At the beginning of November I wrote about the Kindle and how I felt it was permanently changing my reading habits. Three months later I haven’t changed my tune: I’ve read more books since then than I have read in the last two years combined.
Before the Kindle (BK) if I read anything it was on-line. I was so involved with blogging and reading blogs that everything else fell by the wayside, and newspapers were pretty much the only content I consumed.
The ease of the Kindle is what won me over: it’s a doddle to use, and is so small & thin that it just slips neatly into an overcoat pocket or evening bag. Whereas, when waiting for a bus or a meeting I may have previously have pecked nervously at my Blackberry, now I found myself whipping out the Kindle.
Given my Dyspraxia, I am quite capable of intending to buy a particular book then promptly forgetting, never to think of it again. With the Kindle the thought becomes action in seconds. The only drawback? The amount I spend on books now.
No, actually there IS a drawback. Last week I was looking for something on the top shelf of my wardrobe. I knelt up on the bed and felt something hard under a knee. It was my Kindle, caught up in the sheets. I pulled it out and there was a tiny mark on the bottom of the display but nothing more. But when I tried to turn it on – nothing.
I am furious with myself. Sensible people, GROWN UP people would carefully place their expensive e-reader on their bedside table. No, I have to fall asleep, tangling it up in the bedclothes.
So, that’s it. My Kindle days are no more. Turns out that that was a very expensive three months of delightful reading.
I’m not happy: I keep thinking of my plane journey tomorrow and the books I ‘ll have to heft in my carry-on to assuage the boredom, as opposed to my slim Kindle, with its hundreds of boredom-botherers.
RIP: it was great whilst it lasted.