Tablets: the saviour of the paperback

It's nearly year since I bought my Kindle. So how does it compare to reading books printed on paper? The Kindle is certainly convenient, easily portable and superb if you want to read several texts concurrently. It is wonderful until it breaks down.

I am on my second Kindle. The first one froze two weeks ago and there was nothing I could do to reboot it. I phoned Amazon. They answered within a minute and  five minutes later  they had ordered me a new one under the warranty. It arrived three days later. Great service. It tells me that they clearly want to support the infrastructure of ebooks and don't want any customer turning their back on their product.

Before the Kindle froze I was reading Kate Grenville's, Secret River, which I had picked up for £0.99 on Kindle's Daily Deal. And that's one of the things that irritates me about my relationship with the Kindle. It has turned me into a book buying skinflint; my greed for a bargain has started to dictate my reading. I was finding the novel somewhat indifferent, so it was a relief to turn to a paperback, The Lincoln Lawyer by Michael Connolly (which I hasten to add, I borrowed from a friend, which would be difficult to do with a Kindle book.) By the time I had finished it my replacement Kindle had arrived and so I continued with Kate Grenville.

Which was the more satisfying experience? I have to say it was reading the paperback. Why? Not because of holding the book. It was a tatty copy with small print. (I always enlarge the typeface on the Kindle). It was because I enjoyed the story more.

Earlier in the year I had another chance to compare. I read Donna Tartt's The Little Friend on the Kindle. Later I read The Secret History in paperback. (Incidentally, I bought it from Amazon secondhand for a snip inc., p&p.) Which was the better experience? The Kindle, because I thought The Little Friend was a more interesting book.

It is the literature that is important, the medium is less so, though I do concede I still enjoy reading paper books. I shall continue to read both. What I would really like is a paperback book with a code to download the ebook, but that's not going to happen for a while because it would destroy the current business model where readers are subsidised so that profit can be made from ebook sales.

I have yet to acquire a tablet and that begs a question for me? Why buy a dedicated e-reader when you can buy all the benefits of a tablet for not much more cash. That is certainly the case with Amazon products. I ask the question. Will the tablet kill the e-novel, just as the CD killed the cassette tape?

Why have a tablet and an e-reader? If you have a tablet the tendency will be to browse the web, read magazines, explore multimedia titles, play games, watch movies, catch up on tv, and fiddle around social media. The benefits of electronic paper may not be enough to persuade customers to buy a tablet and an ereader.

Ironically, the tablet may be the saviour of the paperback.

Burning the rainbow at both ends

Funnily enough I photographed another rainbow today. It was one of those complete ones, where you could see both ends, but is impossible to photograph without a super-wide angle lens. (Which is why we have an imagination and a memory.)  It boded good weather for birding... and as it turned out for writing too.

I have been making notes for a number of days - off and on - but just before lunch I began to write the new book. I have spent three hours writing 250 words. That seems like a long time spend with little to show for it, but I have been working carefully to find the narrative voice and set the tone. I think I have  gone some way towards finding them.

I have set the two main characters up and now I shall let them run and see where they lead me.

Optometry & Optimism - seeing the road ahead.

This morning finds me a happy man. A rainbow arcing over Stroud at 8.00 a.m. I have managed to remove 20,000 words from The Key to Finlac so far (over the summer, not this morning!) I am listening to the new Bob Dylan album and I have the title for the new book I have just started writing (not drawn from Tempest).

It's raining. Less of a distraction.

As usual I was planning on writing something else. That book will have to wait while it ferments a little longer. As I have two books currently in various drafts, I thought I'd be better off writing something for 10-12's (30-35,000 words) - a comic creation to keep me chuckling when the revisions get hard. Ever the optimist...

... or should that be optometrist? I have four pairs of glasses: for reading, for reading in the sun, for watching tv & a pair for working on the computer. Make that five - sunglasses. Maybe six - rose-tinted.

New Shoes & Autumn Leaves

Why do I still use school terms for my reference points even though I am no longer involved in education? Like a dutiful school boy I still settle down to work every time a new term begins and kick off my shoes & go barefooted when end of term comes around. I never have been comfortable with the notion of New Year's Day or the beginning of the financial year in April. Spring & the beginning of the Summer Term has more significance.

And then there is September, where it all really starts. New shoes, new uniform, new stationery; looking forward to kicking though the autumn leaves.

Time for me to review the past two years. I have written 100,000 words. I have a couple of children's novels in nearly final draft. I am a "finisher" - the work ethic side of me sees to that - but I also want to start something new. I want to get back to my 1000 words a day habit. I want to kick though the leaves rather than trudge back from town, laden with shopping however interesting my purchases

If a painter can work on several pieces at once, then so can I - as long as there is an end in sight. That is the challenge. The juggling....but not as the mood takes me. It requires more discipline than that.

Tupperware tells its own story

Does not posting a blog recently mean I have been focusing hard on the book? Mostly.

Writing the first draft of a book is like being a child again, running down the beach on the first day of the holidays to stamp my feet in the water. It's all shrieks and hollering. The second draft is shivering back up from the shore line, feet stabbed by stones. The final draft is being rubbed hard with a sandy towel. Warming, but unpleasantly abrasive.

But there will be a time when the sun breaks through, and I'll sip scalding sweet tea from a Tupperware cup, hot sand between my toes. And I'll dream that dream of never going back to school again.

When Less is More...More or Less...

This is my morning. Still working on the revisions to The Key to Finlac. Still trying to reduce the first 45,000 words to no more than 10,000. It's a tough call, but I'm, getting there. The question to be asked all the time is: What is essential to the story? If it doesn't move the narrative forward, leave it out.

But it is also important to remember that 35,000 words have not been wasted. They have not been expunged. Not so much evaporation as distillation.

I write this, so I have the heart to go back to the book again tomorrow. It's a reminder to myself as well as a glimpse into the writing process.

French Lessons with Donna Tartt

Apart from the fact that it is again going to be really hard to get back into the discipline of writing, what have I learned from my visit to France last week?

• Normandy is a continuation of Dorset (geologists may tell me I am entirely wrong) and that is no bad thing. I am still capable of writing an ambiguous sentence
• Red Squirrels abound.
• Driving on the back roads is like being in the 1950's, but you can go faster and engines are more reliable.
• My father landed tanks at Utah Beach in WW2 when he was twenty years old. (But he never mentioned it until I said we'd been there - I wish I'd known beforehand. Do fathers ever talk to sons?)
• Language is not everything - but it helps. A smile goes an awfully long way. It's a myth that the French habitually laugh at the English.

WHAT I REALLY LEARNED is not to be daunted by other writers. Enjoy holiday reading. Come back wanting to write as well as Donna Tartt.