In fact, being of a reading disposition meant that I always had a use for that little pocket inside my school blazer (yep, that's private education for you); it was a handy little book-sized nook always about my person. Although I'm sure my mother wasn't overly happy at the pocket stretching that took place as the size of book read began to increase.
The book pocket continued into my working and commuting life - any inside jacket pocket always contained a book (unless it was particularly large, then it had to be carried in the bag). This made my commuting life feel a bit more constructive, more useful. Sure, I had to spend hours each week crammed into a stinky moving sweatbox but at least I was getting through a few books. Oh, I'm sure I could have started up conversations with the other commuters around me but that would, of course, have singled me out as some of arch mentalist. Besides, I don't really really want to (mornings especially; I'd rather not say a word until I've been awake for at least 90 minutes).
Aside from the obvious booky appeal of getting swept away by someone else's imagination, there's the whole tactile experience of reading, too. The heft of the book, that papery texture, the musty old smell of a second-hand or particularly old book. All part and parcel of the reading experience. So imagine my surprise when I found myself wholeheartedly embracing my brand new ebook reader...
To Be Continued