Imagine waking up one day and realizing that your deep-seated love for books—the kind that once transported you to other worlds—has been quietly overshadowed by the glow of screens. It's a personal confession that might hit close to home for many of us: the slow decline of our book-reading habits in a digital age. But here's where it gets controversial... is this shift a tragic loss, or simply a natural adaptation to our fast-paced lives? Stick around, because this exploration might just change how you view your own reading routine.
Hey there, fellow wordsmiths and casual readers! Are you still diving into stacks of books like you used to? Do you consider yourself a bookworm, and if so, how many volumes do you typically devour in a year? I've been pondering this a lot lately, especially as I reflect on my own fading habit of cracking open a good read.
Just last month, we lost Ken Dryden, the legendary goalie for the Montreal Canadiens, at age 78. He was one of my sports idols from childhood, and he's the author of my all-time favorite book, 'The Game.' To honor his memory, I binge-watched a ton of YouTube tributes, which instantly made me crave revisiting his work. My copy—well-worn and even autographed—holds a special spot, tucked away among my socks and underwear in the dresser. It's the only book that escapes my carefully curated shelf of prized sports literature. That collection once boasted hundreds of titles, but over the years, I've reluctantly donated most of them to make room, feeling a mix of liberation and regret.
'Good for you, decluttering and letting others discover those gems,' I can almost hear some of you cheering.
'What's the matter with you? Those are cherished keepsakes—surely you'll revisit them someday,' I envision the more sentimental among you, including my own inner voice, responding with a knowing nod.
I also spot those enticing signs for upcoming massive book sales near my neighborhood, and they used to be irresistible. Back then, I'd leave with a haul of 10 to 20 fresh-to-me books, each promising a new adventure. But here's the twist most people gloss over: these days, I barely touch them. In fact, the last book I read from start to finish was Dryden's final one, 'Scotty: A Hockey Life Like No Other,' a brilliant tribute to his longtime coach, Scotty Bowman.
My go-to summer ritual used to involve lounging on a pool float with 'The Game' in hand, soaking up the sun while blasting '80s rock anthems and getting lost in its pages. It was pure bliss, a time machine back to simpler days. Sadly, that's faded too, thanks to a surgery that turned pool-floating into a no-go zone.
So, what changed? Books have always been my passion. My mom was a true book lover, powering through all sorts of genres despite her superhero-level schedule as a busy mom. I have no clue how she squeezed in the time, but she instilled that love in me. As a kid, I'd pick up random books lying around and dive in, even if they went over my head. At nine years old, classics like 'The Gulag Archipelago' by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn or novels by Philip Roth were beyond me, but I tried anyway. And talk about surprises—I once grabbed 'Wifey' thinking it would be like my sister's Judy Blume book, 'Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret.' Spoiler: it wasn't! I still hoard my complete Hardy Boys collection; those will never hit the donation pile.
Yet, while books captured my heart, magazines were my real obsession, particularly Sports Illustrated. The way those journalists crafted intricate stories was mesmerizing—it's what inspired me to dream of becoming a writer myself. In my twenties, I'd polish off two or three books monthly, but it was SI, GQ, and similar mags that truly hooked me.
Life's demands eventually cut into my reading time, but I still made space for books, mostly biographies. Now, though, the true culprit has emerged: screens. I'm hopelessly hooked on my desktop, laptop, and phone. I still call myself a voracious reader—I absorb information like crazy. But it's all in bite-sized nuggets now. I scroll through thousands of articles daily, and honestly, none match the joy of curling up with a physical book.
This sparked some serious envy when I polled my colleagues at Carpenter Media/Black Press about their reading habits. Many are still devouring books at a superhuman rate—25 to 100 per year. How do they manage with such demanding jobs? They're like reading superheroes, carving out that precious time.
Me? I doubt I could power through 100 Berenstain Bears books in a year today. Two pages in, and I'd be fidgeting, itching to check my phone for the latest buzz, like Sydney Sweeney's fashion choices.
Save me, Mr. Dryden.
And this is the part most people miss: Is this digital distraction a modern scourge, or could it be a gateway to new forms of knowledge? For beginners struggling with focus, think of it this way—screens offer quick hits of info, like snacks versus a full meal. But are we losing something deeper? I lean toward yes, but what if screens actually expand our horizons by connecting us to global stories we might never encounter in print? It's a debate worth having.
What do you think? In a world obsessed with notifications, is it possible to balance screen time with the immersive pleasure of books, or are we doomed to short-form scrolling? Do you agree that magazines bridged the gap between quick reads and novels, or disagree? Share your experiences, agreements, or counterpoints in the comments—let's discuss!
PQB News/Vancouver Island Free Daily editor Philip Wolf welcomes your questions, comments, and local story ideas. He can be reached via email atemailprotected; by phone at 250-905-0029 or on Twitter @philipwolf13 (https://twitter.com/philipwolf13?utmsource=victoria%20news&utmcampaign=victoria%20news%3A%20outbound&utm_medium=referral).
