Books are such wonderful friends. They ask no favor, yet they provide unlimited companionship with naught requested in return, save a little attention. Audiobooks and “. . . Talking Books” from the “. . . Talking Book Library” are my new addiction. “Read,” or really heard, at any pace and any time, they are my link to the outside world, or to quote Peter Pan, my escape to “Never, Never Land.” An expert reader is like having a friend just drop in for a cozy chat, a welcomed friend on a lonely morning or afternoon.
Now naught can replace the aesthetic pleasure provided by a well-reproduced volume, even with minimal or no illustrations. There is something sensual that good paper transmits that defies description. So one does not replace the other.
Yet “. . . Talking Books” come with a bonus, at least for catalog lovers such as myself. Every two months a catalog of new additions to the audio book library appears. What fun to peruse new titles, new authors. I have indeed made some wonderful discoveries — and some new, very good friends.