Among other things, I've been reading real books recently.

Yep. I put down my kindle (which I adore) and picked up some real books. There's something so wonderful about reading a book, book.

It all started with a Margaret Atwood book that I borrowed from a friend over Christmas break--The Blind Assassin. The thing was, I wasn't able to read it easily with my clunky cast. I couldn't keep the book open and turn pages. This was frustrating to say least but I had my kindle so all was okay-ish.
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Then my cast came off and re-discovered books. Since then I've read the Memory Keeper's Daughter and I am half way into both Night Soldiers by Alan Furst (part of it's set in Bulgaria) and a PD James mystery.

Once I am done with my current mystery novel Atwood here I come.

It's funny when I was younger, sometimes I was embarrassed to admit what I what I was reading if I didn't think it was great literature and worthy of my time. Thirty-something me is much less embarrassed by these things. I  haven't read Thirty Shades of Grey yet and I have no plans to but I no longer feel like I most only read those so-called important books just because they are important.

However I am a <em>little</em> embarrassed to tell you what I'm about to tell you.

I 've decided that if I'm reading in bed my kindle is much more convenient. My kindle is less bulky, it's easier to hold and I never have to adjust where I am in in bed or the lamp when I am reading because my kindle is always in the light. Oh and if you fall asleep with your kindle, you never lose your page!

Oh my. What's wrong with me?!