I like paper books. But I also like ebooks. They each have their place.
An ebook weighs less, has variable type size, is backlit. You can store hundreds of them in a space no bigger than a piece of toast. But I have just discovered one thing that ebooks really suck at. You can’t wing them off the nearest wall.
Roger Ebert called it the idiot plot. You know the type. For instance, a young woman decides to change into her nightie before going to the woods, alone at midnight, to investigate that demonic noise she just heard.
In the case of the ebook I was reading, the plot involved a graduate instructor inviting a female student (whom he didn’t much like) into his apartment not once, but three times, without thinking that there might be repercussions. Come on. I rarely criticize other writers, but come on. I’m supposed to care about this guy after that unforgivable brain fart? Burn him at the stake, I say.
A paper book could have been drop kicked across the room in a fit of irritation. But you really don’t want to do that with an ebook. So now I have to find something else to toss, pitch, kick or slap. I may be my own idiot plot today depending on who or what crosses me.