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My Kindle Made Me A B*tch
I have seen many many many people drawing up pros and cons of e-readers versus paper’n'ink books. I have even done it myself. However, now that I have been using it for a couple of months, I realise that everyone has been missing a crucial point: e-readers make you a completely unreasonable so-and-so.
Say, for instance, you want to read My Cousin Rachel. In the past, you would simply have gone to the library and checked it out. But now, you head for the kindle store only to find it is not available. You huff and puff about this. Of course, you STILL COULD GO TO THE LIBRARY, YOUR KINDLE HAS NOT BROKEN YOUR LEGS. But now that oddly seems like too much effort. So you don’t read it.
Or say, that you think ok, well I think I might read Great Expectations instead. You head to the Kindle store. But you notice you have to pay for it! Even though Jane Austen is free, Dickens wants your cash! (Why is this, by the way?) And even though it is eighty six pence; approximately the cost of the packet of biscuits you have scoffed, you bitterly resent this. Of course, you STILL COULD GO TO THE LIBRARY, etc, etc. But you don’t. So you don’t read it.
And then say, you want to read Moonwalking With Einstein. But this is ten whole pounds for the kindle book! When it is only £8.17 for the paperback! (And this is still a pricey paperback, I think.) And you cannot understand this discrepancy! And you fret about it for days and days and days and regularly check back in desperation because THERE MUST BE SOME MISTAKE! But there isn’t. And eventually you begrudgingly do fork out the tenner, because you actually do really want to read this. And then you wistfully think back to that eighty six pence on Mr Dickens.
You are probable a nicer, less demanding, more patient person than I am. Your kindle has probably enhanced your life without destroying your soul. How do you manage it?
Supposed place of literary legend
A few weeks ago, I spent the night here:
which looks like your standard (if standard is an appropriate word) fancy-schmancy hotel, but was apparently where Charles Dickens got the idea for Miss Havisham’s spooky, spiderwebbed home in Great Expectations, so seems worth a mention here. I have no idea if this is true or not, as the only evidence I have is the hotel’s information, but who am I to spoil a good story?
Oh, HELLO, if you have come to find out what my guilty pleasure is! Dudes, it is not pleasure if you spoil it with guilt. I say, revel in whatever terribleness you enjoy. For me, it is Malteasters (maltesers, in bunny rabbit shaped form, with a much more pleasing chocolate to crunch ratio), the novels of Philippa Gregory, SpringWatch/AutumnWatch (for the non-British, this is essentially a programme where people in bad jumpers say incomprehensible things about birds) and not leaving my flat for several days in a row and not caring.
