I’d just gotten a new iPhone – all shiny and pretty, wrapped in a hot-pink case – and my friend Nik, who was visiting for the weekend, asked a question that I’m eternally grateful for: “Do you know about the Kindle App?”
I’m a bit wary of all things electronic, so I meekly shook my head. I had no Kindle App. I had, in fact, no Apps at all.
“Here,” Nik said gently, reaching for my phone. He showed me how to download – for free! – a little button. When I touched the button with my fingertip a moment later, an entire bookstore unfolded in front of my eyes – mysteries and thrillers, beach reads and biographies! I could buy any of them, at any time. If I got stuck in a terrible traffic jam, I could read the first few chapters of the new Lee Child. Waiting in pick-up line at my kids’s school, I could browse the opening pages of a half-dozen novels before settling on the one I liked best. Never again would I be without a book in hand.
I love, love, love my Kindle App. It won’t ever replace traditional books for me – I still yearn for the comfortable weight of one in my hands – but whenever I’ve got some unexpected downtime (a long line at the grocery store, a bout of insomnia at 3 a.m.) I reach for my trusty iPhone and dive deliciously into another world.