If the Internets has taught us anything, it’s that, in the near future, no one will be able to read ink on a page. Newspapers will be delivered to inboxes, not mailboxes; books will be read on Kindles, not leaves; and the silver screen will satiate our need for stories.

Only one group can stop print from fading into obsolescence, just one hardy band of traditionalists stand between us and this paper apocalypse … the Amish.

That’s right, folks.

One of the few bright spots for foundering Christian publishers are best-selling Amish novels, according to the AP’s Eric Gorski.

Gorski writes “The undisputed industry leader is so-called Amish fiction – typically, romances and family sagas set in contemporary Amish communities. They’re a surprise hit with evangelical women attracted by a simpler time, curiosity about cloistered communities and admiration for the strong, traditional faith of the Amish.”

If you want to sell it, one litr’y agent tells the AP, put a bonnet on it.

Ann Rodgers of the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette follows up on Gorski’s story by reading a bunch of Amish romances to see what the fuss is all about.

Rodgers writes “For the women readers who have made Amish romance the fastest-growing genre in Christian fiction, these books aren’t exactly steamy aphrodisiacs.

Hand-holding is a heart-stopping event.

A hero’s greatest desire is often to teach an English, or non-Amish, heroine about Jesus. Plots may stir an irresistible urge to bake rhubarb pie.”

Rodgers makes two interesting points about Amish novels: For the most part, the Amish don’t write’em or read’em.

Finally, the AP published a feature on Monday about The Budget, an Ohio newspaper with a wide Amish following nationwide.The Budget may be the only paper in the country whose readers revolted against it going online. Thank you, Amish.

According to the AP: “Far from impeding the newspaper’s success, shunning the Internet actually solidified its steadfast fan base.

As other newspapers increasingly shed staff and reduce the frequency of their print editions in the face of growing competition from the Internet, The Budget is plodding along comfortably in the recession.

Subscriptions, which cost $42 a year and account for most of the newspaper’s revenue, have dropped by just a few hundred in the past year. Advertisers – who are mostly Amish – are not fleeing to the Internet. And plans are in the works to add a couple of reporters to The Budget’s editorial staff of about a dozen people.”

So, I guess we all know where to turn in our resumes.