You Can’t Swipe This: Why My Books Are Meant to Be Held, Not Tapped

Why I Only Offer Physical Books

(And Why That’s Exactly the Point)

If you’ve come looking for a Kindle version of my books, you won’t find one. There’s no ebook, no download, no swipe-to-read. Not because I’ve forgotten, or because I’m behind the times — but because Luminovels were never meant to live on a screen.

These books are designed around a simple idea: that experience matters. And for the kind of stories I tell — ones woven through photography, illustration, and narrative — the experience begins with how you physically engage with the book itself.

Size Isn’t Cosmetic — It’s Core

Take Through Water and Ruin, for example. It’s printed in an 8x10 inch format — larger than a typical novel, and with good reason. The page size fills your field of vision. It invites you in.

For context:

• A typical smartphone screen is around 3x6 inches — making it over four times smaller than a single LumiNovel page.

• Most e-readers top out at 6 or 7 inches diagonally, with black-and-white screens that do nothing for colour-rich imagery.

• Even most tablets (like a standard iPad at 10.2 inches) offer less surface area and a far flatter, colder experience.

Many spreads in the book stretch across two full pages, creating an immersive 16x10 inch visual layout.

What happens to a 16x10 spread on a digital device? It shrinks. It’s cramped. The details blur, the impact fades. It becomes something entirely different — and far less compelling. Think about websites: mobile versions aren’t just smaller, they’re redesigned entirely because the experience of using them on a small screen is so different. The same principle applies here. Luminovels are crafted specifically for their physical size — not shrunk, stretched, or retrofitted.

** Note that all the photos above are scaled relative to each other. So no matter how you are viewing them (phone, tablet or computer) you can still feel the different sizes.

Pages, Not Pixels

There’s a joy in turning real pages. A rhythm. You feel the paper, maybe two stick slightly and you slide them apart (yes, that has a name — it’s called blocking when fresh pages briefly cling). You lift the weight of the book. You smell the ink and paper. You see the art at full scale. You flip back to a photo you love. You show someone a passage by pointing to it, not scrolling toward it. It’s tactile. Human. Shared.

That’s what I want for my readers — not a swipe, not a download, but a moment. A physical encounter with the story.

No Notifications, No Rush

Digital devices are noisy. Not just in sound, but in attention. They flash, ping, buzz. They urge you toward the next thing before you’ve finished the first. A book doesn’t. A book waits. You pick it up when you’re ready. You read at your pace. You don’t need battery. You don’t need updates. You just need a quiet space and the willingness to dive in.

Luminovels are not just about telling a story — they’re about inhabiting it. You, the art, and the moment. Nothing in between.

Books Belong in the Real World

You can shelve it. Lend it. Gift it. Lay it on your coffee table or carry it in a backpack. You can pass it to a friend and say “just look at this page.” Not share a link. Share a moment. That’s not nostalgia — it’s connection. Real-life, eye-to-eye, page-in-hand connection.

There’s nothing wrong with digital books. But for what I’m making, digital just isn’t enough. I’m not interested in compressing the experience to fit inside a screen. I’d rather expand the page — and give you something to hold.

That’s why I only offer physical books. That’s why they exist at all.

Thanks for reading.