For the last five years or so I’ve been predicting in print and elsewhere that electronic books would soon appear and play an increasingly important role on the publishing landscape. That said, I tarried. The Sony Reader debuted. Then came the Kindle from Amazon. But I didn’t pull out the old plastic to buy a new piece of plastic.
In truth, I knew I’d be doing it eventually. But I was hoping that Apple might offer its own version, a reader’s version of the iPod. I’m as big a sucker for their design elegance, their cool, as my own kids. (I just try and cloak the fact with old fogey grumblings.)
A couple of months ago my mother in law, Madelyn Singer, passed away. She’d lived with us for more than a decade. A professional mathematician (and former ballet dancer) she loved gadgets, always had to have the latest calculator, was still doing math problems in her head to the very end. And Madelyn, of course, had a Kindle.
So during the painful process of distributing her earthly belongings, I suggested that perhaps the Kindle might come my way . . . .
I like it. I really like it. It’s light, thin, wonderfully portable. The page–the screen does indeed look like a printed page–is easy to read as long as there’s enough light. Yeah, just like a book, you do need a reading light. But the size of the typeface is adjustable, which is terrific.
Amazon’s biggest innovation is the ease with which you can link to, where else?, Amazon. The Kindle uses cell phone technology to make the link, but you’re not charged, at least not directly, for that cost. And the number of books available now in Kindle format is growing quickly. It’s very, very easy–too easy, too tempting. . . .
Despite what you may have heard elsewhere, however, this will never replace your other gadgets. Getting it to hook up to other Internet websites is clumsy and slow. The keyboard is adequate to type in a book title or three, but it would never do for email.
And my yearning for Steve Jobs’ crew to flick their magic has not really disappeared. The Kindle ain’t elegant. It’s forward-page, backward-page buttons are too easily tapped; each page change is too slow and comes with a nasty little flicker. And if you lose your place, and you will, finding it again can be a royal pain.
Bitch, bitch, bitch.
I like it. I’ve already read two books on my Kindle. It’s great for travel. Tuck it in a bag and you’ve got as many reads as you need in one light book-sized gadget.
Yet I’m pleased to say that my old fogey grumblings are not just an act, after all. No way I’m giving up the printed page for reading books that are serious, that are important to me, that I want to possess in something other than electronic bytes.
This is all good news. At least that’s what I hope. The electronic reader won’t replace old Mr. Gutenberg any time soon. Rather, the Kindle and other e-readers to come, (please, Mr. Jobs. . .), will offer useful and pleasant additions to the landscape, not a whole new map.