One of my bookshelves
When it comes to clothes, I'm pretty cool. When it comes to hairdos, I'm updated. When it comes to music, I can rock anything from Fun. to Simon and Garfunkel to Mozart. But when it comes to books I'm a grandma. I resist the e-book. I resist the move from paper to electronic.

When I moved in December, the first boxes I brought to the new place were full of books. Pounds and pounds of lovely books. Before we decided where the dishes went, or who slept in which room, the books all had a home on their shelves around the fireplace. I love my books. I love the way they smell. I love the way they feel. I love they way they look.

My friend gave me a Nook for Christmas. I accepted the gift gratefully, downloaded a bunch of free e-books and took it to the gym with me. Admittedly, it's easier to take on a plane than the hardcopy version of Duma Key, and easier to tote around the gym than Shogun, but I still wasn't sold.

See I'm a writer.I've known since I was eight years old that I would be 
published some day--that someone somewhere would hold my book in their hands and be as intrigued by it as I was by A Wrinkle in Time or The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe. Someone would dog-ear my pages and lovingly place my book back on their shelf when they were done. Someone would loan my book to their friends. My book.

But I find myself considering e-publishing. I have three books that are done and they've just been sitting around collecting dust. I'm pretty sure I'll do with A Scribble in the Margins, but I'm not positive yet. This doesn't mean I'm going to bypass an editor. I think that's irresponsible, but the idea of having someone e-hold my e-book in their actually hands has got me kind of excited. I'm considering some different marketing strategies and with the help of my friends, I think I can sell enough copies to make a splash.

Still I wonder. Am I evolving or giving in?