Me and the Kindle, a year later

So last September, I bought a used kindle for a steal. If it hadn’t been so cheap, I wouldn’t have made the plunge, but at the time it was a bargain that the reader in me couldn’t resist.

Well, its been a year now – so what’s the verdict?

Meh.

There are certainly pros to the kindle. Being able to get a book at 2am has its appeal, especially for someone like me, who realizes ten minutes after the nearest bookstore closes that I’m jonesing for something to read. The ability to send samples of books has saved me more money than I can count – books that seemed interesting, but when I got a chance to read the first chapter or so, discovered that it was shite.

The cons, though, are a bit weighty, at least to me. There’s a myth that kindle books are cheaper. Not really. If the book is a new release, then yes, the kindle edition will generally be cheaper than the hardback, but most of the kindle books are equal or more expensive than their paperback counterpart. The price of having it instantly? Not sure. And what does that say for the overhead cost of printing and distribution if the digital format costs just as much? Add to that that despite the plethora of books available, if your reading habits take you out of the mainstream pop-fiction market, your pickings get scarcer and scarcer. And as you’ve seen in previous posts of mine, there seems to be some confusion in the kindle store on pricing/editions. You would think there would be one version of a book (with obvious exceptions for translations, especially of historical books), but no, you have to actually double and triple check your selection. Over in the printed world of amazon, your choices are clear – hardback, paperback, trade. Maybe a special edition here or there, but that’s it. You would think that with this same set of books, there would be a single kindle edition – but no. Sometimes there are multiple copies of the same recently published book, with multiple prices. What the hell? And woe to you if you get into a book series after the first release, because you may find the paperback with a friendly link saying sorry, the book isn’t available on the kindle – but the exact same book in a previous release (hardback, or previous paperback printing) does have a kindle edition. Homo Habilus says what on discovering he has opposable thumbs?

Then there’s that one thing I didn’t realize I’d miss.

I like holding a book. Yes, its great than I can place the kindle on the treadmill shelf and read a book while working out. Changing the font size on the fly is wonderful if your eyes are tired, or just crap like mine. But there’s something more intimate about holding a book in your hands. Awkward at times, depending on the volume, but there’s that intimacy of being connected to the book, feeling the paper and spine beneath your fingertips, that is lost in the digital world.

In the end, my verdict is a 5 out of 10, deadpan centerline. Its more than a novelty, but after a year I don’t find myself compelled to replace my entire hardcopy collection with digital versions. I have a few books on the kindle to read still, including Ken Scholes’ Lamentation (yes, its next on my reading list!), but I also have a reserve shelf of fantasy and sci-fi paperbacks to read. Maybe my tune will shift when we look to move closer to my job next year, and the advantage of space savings is more compelling, but right now I’m not rushing to make that shift.

To put this not quite enthusiastic review in perspective, there was a coworker at my former job who bought a kindle. She reads mostly biographies and new, bestseller type fiction, and she loves her kindle to death. It gives her exactly what she needs without the weighty, cheaply produced hardcopies to lug around. She took her kindle with her on vacation and was able to take a half dozen books that she wanted to read without having to dedicate a suitcase to it. So there are happy kindle owners out there – I’m just not one of the thrilled beyond belief ones.