Week and a half in: I love my Kindle. I am surprised at how happy I am with it, and how much more I read now that I have it. I even read short fiction now; it’s nice to end with a small, contained story for the evening.
(I like it to be individually available, rather than as a collection, but I think I’ll try some of Patrick Nielsen Hayden’s edited anthologies next. I read his intro to one of them and I’m impressed; I think I’ll like the stories he picked.)
My commute is rather long, so the Kindle is ideal. If I run out of novel, I can buy more stuff, or download more samples for free. And the samples are much longer than what you get on Amazon.com or most other online stores (if they have them at all). Even longer than the ones on Google’s book search.
On the weekend I wandered out in nice weather, sat in restaurants, and read read read. It was a lovely experience. I wish everyone could have a Kindle or eReader or something they can read without wanting to tear their eyes out after an hour (LCDs do that to me for whatever reason).
Although I do see that people do seem to like to rain on Kindle parades; enthuse on the Kindle, and folks drop by with “you shouldn’t enjoy it! It’s lousy and you’ll regret it!” which is rather rude. And if they’re trying to enlighten you, they’re rather condescending about it. It seems to speak of bitter grapes at best and trolling at worst. Sorry, youse guys. I just enjoy my Kindle that much.
And my reading speed is picking up. Most novels last two days with me—two weekdays of commute and job at that. I want to read as many books as I can, as many short stories as can. Life is too short, for tomorrow we could die, hit by buses or shot by psychos on the front porch (I think my life will end that way, which may tell you something about my life).
Yes, I do Twitter from my Kindle, more and more frequently; I could even blog, if the Kindle were smarter about text fields. One day I hope that it is.