To Hard Copy or Not To Hard Copy?

I'm the first one to admit it. I hate change. I resist it. I complain about it, and in many instances I even refuse to acknowledge it's reality. I inherited this stubbornness from my dad, who still gives the first three digits of his home phone number as SPRING-7 while regularly referring to such Cleveland landmarks as "The High-Level Bridge" and "City Hospital." I carry on the tradition by telling people I'm going to Jacob's Field or the Gund. When CDs came out, I continued buying vinyl. When DVDs arose, I kept hunting for stuff on VHS. Smart phones? I'll just stick with my flip phone, thank you very much. As for ebooks, I scoffed at the very notion when they first appeared. I remember telling a coworker at Borders that hard copy books were like incandescent light bulbs. Both represented the ultimate pinnacles of human ingenuity. I insisted no matter what comes next, real books and real light bulbs would NEVER be replaced.

Now it's some twenty years later, and the federal government has banned real light bulbs, and I just published my first novel as an ebook, eschewing paper and ink in favor of virtual pages. So what the hell happened to me? Well, a few things.

For one, I got a Kindle a few Christmases ago from my wife, and I found that I actually liked the format. All those books on one reader. No more lugging five books into the coffee shop when I can't decide what I'm in the mood to read.  Yes, I still go the library constantly, and I still check out real books. However, this ritual mostly stems from the habit of going to the library. All those hard copies are right there in front of me -- so easy to browse, so easy to check out. The process of downloading library ebooks to my Kindle is still more complicated than simply walking up to a desk, handing a librarian my selection and checking it out. Once the logistics of borrowing library ebooks gets streamlined, I may just forego hard copy books altogether.

Which brings me to the actual point of today's missive. For every person I meet who seems thrilled that Cat & Cat is conveniently available as an ebook on all the major platforms, I meet five other persons who unabashedly ask me if I have any real books to sell? By real, of course, they mean hard copies, and when I inform them that the book is only available in e-form I'm always assured that they'll buy a copy when the real book comes out.

I'm not angered by this reaction, mind you. I mean I'm the guy who refuses to send text messages, use a GPS or get an I-Pod. So I get it! Believe me. If my wife hadn't kicked my ass into the 21st century with that Kindle two years ago, I would have sunk all my savings into printing up real copies of Cat & Cat when I finished the book. In fact, printing hard copies of my first novel is still preeminent in my future plans. But real books cost real money to produce, and until I scrape together enough disposable income to invest in hard copies I guess the world will just have to get along with the ebook version of Cat & Cat. Call me a rosy-eyes Pollyanna if you must, but I think we'll all manage to muddle through somehow.