What makes a good bathtub book? Well, and I pose that question generally, as if there were a general answer. There isn’t. People are different, one to another, and (as YHB may have mentioned before) that’s what makes the world interesting and fun. So, the following is typed with the awareness that it is particular to YHB, and if this is more information than you really wanted to know about the bathing habits of the blogger, well, You Have Been Warned.
The first criterion, of course, is size and weight. And value, I suppose; a slender chapbook, signed by the author who is an old college buddy, might be kept away from the soapy water on the principle of the thing. And, of course, even if I owned a small electronic device for the reading of text, such a device would not come into the tub, even if it would make Bleak House the same weight as Crystal Singer. Which is too, bad, really, since simultaneous immersion into hot water and a big sprawling novel would be really nice, if it weren’t too hard on the forearms. However, things being how they are, a good bathtub book should be a paperback, and points must be deducted for length over four hundred pages.
Then the question—old friend or new? Sadly, my local library does not have many paperbacks (for sound reason), and I rarely buy books I haven’t read, so I generally go with the old friend. Oh, sometimes I’ll take a hardback in—losing points for maneuverability, but worth it for the splendor of the new world. On the other hand, the old friend can be more relaxing, and then of course I am less tempted to stay in for just one more chapter, as the water cools and my skin threatens court action. Also, I’m less likely to discover, ten pages in, that I really don’t want to read this book, or at least that I don’t want to read it now, and of course it’s the only book within arm’s reach. So, on the whole, an old friend.
Although, I should point out, there is the combination: a new book in a loved series. Sadly, most of these my favorite series are now coming out in hardback, and I am insufficiently patient to wait for the paperback. That is, I wait to buy them in paperback, but I read the library copy in hardback, so by the time I’m taking them into the tub, it’s a re-read.
OK, an old friend, well-thumbed (but with the pages still firmly attached). Does it have to be very good? No. Nothing too ambitious, actually, as a book of true ambition will either succeed beyond the comfort of the tub or have alternating stretches of brilliance and annoyance, also not suited for a nice long soak. Well, and a ambitious friend of unusually long standing, where you’ve rubbed the edges off the brilliance, might well suffice, but I find myself better off with competence. An above-average book, without visible flaw but without true sparkle. A series novel, in fact.
And, ideally, a nice big tub.
chazak, chazak, v’nitchazek,
-Vardibidian.
Wow, did I first read Crystal Singer the year it was published? Dang.
An electronic book could in principle be waterproofed, and in fact there are surely such devices out there now, although probably not intended for bathing.
There’s also always the option of a waterproof book. There are probably even some that aren’t erotica. :^)