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Illinois Press book showcase, showcasing over 50 books and 35 book jackets. Photo by Brad Thorp

For most women, I suppose, it’s chocolate. You know, that one weakness that never fails to put some life in our eyes, inspire a little frenzy or move us towards an evening spent sitting curled up under a blanket and in an armchair. For me, it’s always been books.

Those who obligingly or unwillingly end up in a bookstore with me are bound to end up whiling away an hour or so as I wander through the shelves. Though I know you are never supposed to “judge a book by its cover,” I confess to being attracted to a sharply designed book cover without fail.

Fact is, however, I love most things about book design. I love the covers, the fonts, the way the page edges are aligned (especially when book pages are cut to look a bit rough), the smell …

Now, enter the world of electronic books.

Recently, as I was passing through a bookstore with my visiting mom, she abruptly stopped and turned towards a large display and said, “There, Lauren, wouldn’t you want one of those for your birthday?”

A self-professed technology junkie, I can see why she thought that the shiny Nook we now stood looking at together would be something I would want. After all, rarely do I pass by the Apple store in the Illini Media building without stopping to stare at the latest toys.

I can even see why I should want it. Essentially, it’s a way to carry around a library in my pocket. Why then do I just not have any desire to own one? Is it because my relationship with the written word has been built on too many years of feeling the pages as I turn them?

Though I have been on the hunt for an old-fashioned typewriter for quite some time, it’s only for aesthetic purposes. As a writer, I am thankful everyday for the advancement of technology from typewriters to laptops. As an editor, I love being able to see and send the articles for my section and others on the217.com. So why am I so stubbornly against the wave of Nooks, Kindles and kobos? Aren’t they just the next step?

Perhaps, in the end, it’s nothing more then a fear of what could be lost.

I want to be able to look up and see my favorite books on the shelves above me. I want to be able to spend hours in a bookstore looking at the latest efforts from my favorite authors. When the next sensation hits shelves, I want to wait in line at midnight with friends until I get the chance to flip open the cover. I want to pick up a 1000-plus-paged book and feel daunted just by the weight of it. These are things I can’t get with a Kindle.

Until this moment, I never really understood why one of my friends from home has refused to make the transition from CDs to mp3s. Now, I do.

While I am happy that these electronic libraries will make reading-on-the-go easier for many people, I can only hope that the bookstore doesn’t eventually become the record store of today.