Wednesday, October 20, 2010

why I bought the Kindle instead of the iPad

I have been in the publishing industry for almost 30 years now. Everyone knows that electronic production and delivery will shape the future of the book publishing industry - and most suspect that the future is now. So that's the main reason I finally bought an ebook reader - to be less technologically behind in the work that provides room and board for the family. If you're going to consider yourself an active member of the "long form" publishing world, better at least be aware of the mechanics - or electronics - of the digital book experience, I figured.

The final nudge I needed to order the Kindle was an impending trip to China last month. Anticipating 18 hours in the air each way, I wanted to make sure I had plenty to read without packing a stowage trunk. Sure enough, the Kindle worked like a charm on that trip. I downloaded four or five books at New York's JFK Airport, boarded the plane, ate dinner, watched a movie, and then fired up a book I've been wanting to read. I was sleeping like a baby in fifteen minutes. It felt like home! (And yes, I did finish the book and two others while flying over the Pacific Ocean.)

After I told an author friend why I bought the Kindle, they let me know they were more interested in why it took me so long.  Good question. Frankly, I've not been sold on buying an ebook reader in general, and the Kindle in particular, until now. I do like the feel of paper and ink bound inside a paper or board cover - but that's not what really held me back.

We all know that technological improvements take place so fast that version 2.0 of the newest gadget follows 1.0 by weeks, not months or years. I'm not a late adopter of new technology, but on the other hand, I don't want to be the one purchasing 1.0 at twice the price of 2.0, which will undoubtedly have more features and less problems.

So I waited for multiple powerhouse companies to launch new readers and for three million of my good friends to buy the first two iterations of the Kindle before I jumped in on the third wave.

But then came the next question from my author friend: why the Kindle over the iPad? It is hard to beat Apple for sleek and cool and seamless usability. And the iPad was all over the news and just about to sell its one millionth unit within months of its release when I bought the Kindle.

So here are my reasons for buying the Kindle over the iPad. (Perhaps I'll take up the question of why I chose it over the Sony Reader and Barnes & Noble Nook at a later time.)

1. I read books and there are approximately seven times more books available through Amazon's Kindle Store than are available for the iPad. The gap will close but is still significant.

2.  The i-Pad costs three to four times more than the Kindle. I'm not saying the i-Pad isn't worth it. It looks to me like the iPad is the future of laptop computing and style. Apple and others will come up with a next generation device that is a cross between the laptop and the iPad, which will replace what I use now. But I don't need all the extra computing and bells and whistles that come with it. I've already got a MacBookPro. I just need a book reader. It isn't lost on me that most people I see with the iPad on airplanes aren't reading books, though to be fair, it looks like the magazine reading experience is much better than it would be with the Kindle. But the iPad users I see are more often watching a movie or playing a game, not reading a book. And as a confession, I get distracted easily enough in life. When I want to read a book, less is absolutely more.

3. The electronic type on the Kindle has now reached the same level of readability (and lack of eye strain) as the paper and ink book. When I took the Kindle out of the box I assumed there was a protective plastic film with a picture of a tree covering my screen. The saturation level of electronic ink was so rich and brilliant that I was surprised to discover it was the actual screen. (I'm glad I didn't give in to my impulse to grab a sharp object to lift an end of the "film" so I could remove it from the screen.)

4. The size of the Kindle is just about perfect for carrying in a briefcase or purse - though I wouldn't know firsthand on the purse - and the iPad is just a little too large as an "extra" device. As mentioned above, I don't think the Kindle can compete with the iPad on reading larger visual publications (and certainly not playing games or watching movies). And it's not just due to the smaller size. The Kindle is strictly black on white. So if I was in a different area of publishing - like fashion media or nature photography - I would undoubtedly purchase the iPad.

5.  I also picked the Kindle because I can now use it to carry and read my own documents. This is not really a reason I picked it over the iPad because that is not and never has been a limitation for the Apple device. Let's just say that Amazon fixed something that they got wrong in earlier editions of the Kindle. Because it is a proprietary device tied to the Amazon Store, it used to be if you wanted to read a non-commercial-book document on the Kindle, you had to figure out how to upload it to the store and buy it from yourself there. I know one of the Big Five publishers bought all their employees the Sony Reader for this very reason - there were no limits on putting your own material on your reading device. The publisher wanted associates to experience an ebook reader and distribute company material on it. That was too tough - and expensive - on the Kindle. Maybe a better of way of making this point is to say that Amazon removed a reason I had previously been resistent to buying their Kindle. I'm going to fly to Orlando later today. I want to review a manuscript I prepared for the meeting. Now all I do is convert it to a pdf and email it to my Kindle email address that they assigned to me when I bought the device. The document will be waiting for me on my Kindle in about a minute.

Those were my reasons for buying a Kindle. They may not work for you.

So who should buy the Kindle? Simple. Book readers. I don't think it's going to a good purchase for people who want to read books instead of playing games but need a little extra motivation. But the iPad is obviously - and for more reasons based on around multi-use distractions - not going to do that either.

The early book publishing industry statistics say that book readers buy and read more books once they have an ereader. Why? There are no space-time limitations of having to drive to a brick and mortar establishment during open hours to pick up something that is on your mind right now. Just read a good review on your flight magazine? You can purchase the book in about 30 seconds once you land at O'Hare or Hartsfield, even if your connection is tight. (It should be noted that buying a book on a Kindle is not as pleasant as sipping a cup of coffee while strolling through rows of bookshelves at a bookstore - and will never replace that.)

As a final comment, Amazon offers a lot of public domain books for free at the Kindle Store. I was about to board a plane last week when suddenly a story from my childhood popped into my mind: Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson. I looked it up and found a free edition, which I immediately "bought." It was waiting for me when I took my seat. I read the opening chapters and was flooded with a sense of nostalgia - right after I woke up from my nap. Just like being at home!

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Oh, Say Can Ye Sing - a Modest Proposal

College football begins tomorrow. The NFL opens the following weekend. My son Zachary has already played in two high school football games. The dog days of summer are over. Baseball, America's pastime, might still be in full swing - but now is when America's passion kicks off! (I've been flagged for excessive gratuitous sports-related puns!)

But whatever sport floats your boat, I do have a modest proposal; one I've been meaning to address for some time. In fact the seed for this proposal was quite possibly planted in my mind on July 25, 1990.

Where were you on that date?

Doesn't matter. You remember it. Even if you don't remember that you remember it yet. That was the inglorious day that comedienne Roseanne Barr screeched out the National Anthem at a San Diego Padres baseball game. Her irreverent rendition of the Star Spangled Banner set off a firestorm of criticism that plummeted her popularity as a person while her television career continued to soar to new ratings heights. What's the saying? There's no such thing as bad publicity - even if it is off key and boorish.

My proposal really doesn't have much to do with Roseanne other than the fact that she is just one of hundreds and thousands and hundreds of thousands of individuals who have been asked to perform the National Anthem before a sporting event.

My question is this: whatever happened to someone standing up and leading the whole crowd in singing it together? Have we become so passive and lazy that even the National Anthem is strictly a spectator sport? Have we been turned off to group singing forever just because international soccer fans sing "Ole, Ole, Ole" over and over - and in South Africa they do so accompanied by that horrible device of otic torture known as the vuvuzela?

I occasionally take matters into my own hands - or my own vocal cords - and sing along with the performer, even if not invited or encouraged. But there are two problems with that.

First, performers like to ... well, perform. They like to show what they've got talent-wise. After all, America has talent according to Englishwoman Sharon Osbourne - and after allowing husband Ozzy to perform "Take Me Out to the Ballpark" at Wrigley Field, she would know. But I digress. My point is that a simple, recognizable, minimalist approach to the National Anthem doesn't showcase a performer's talent. That means performers select elaborate arrangements with pauses and holds and undulating flights from one octave to another - and often with less than stellar results. But again, I'm not concerned with the results of the performer. I just know I can't follow along if it's the first time I've heard the tune.

The second problem is that I'm not a very good singer. Some would say I make Roseanne sound pretty darn good. If I'm one of ten thousand singing in Section 3, it's no big biggie. If I'm the only one from Section 3 singing along with the performer, well then, Houston, we've got a problem.

I think the whole crowd should be encouraged to sing along with our National Anthem.

So I make my appeal to high school band instructors, college athletic directors, pro sports producers, and church softball league commissioners to move away from a performance-based approach to the Star Spangled Banner - though I know there are rare breakthrough performances of the National Anthem that launch careers (though I can't remember whose).  But between bad acoustics and the general apathy of those not included in the exercise, most of us can't remember who performed  before the coin flip at last year's Super Bowl (and maybe not after the coin flip either), while we can all remember singing "Living On a Prayer" with everyone else in the room the first time we saw Jon Bon Jovi on a Duracel commercial. Heck, he even pointed the microphone in our direction, which ironically made us sing even louder.

So next time the Vienna Boys Choir is called upon to sing the Star Spangled Banner in an acapella soprano voice that would make opera star Kiri Te Kanawa wish she could hit the high notes, nudge the person on your left and on your right to lift their voices loud and strong with you in an attempt to inspire the whole crowd to sing along.

If that doesn't work, maybe you can start the wave.


Monday, August 2, 2010

The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao


By Junot Diaz. Riverhead Books (Penguin). Published in 2007.

A number of friends and family members recommend books for me to read. With a few of them I take particular note: this is a good indication that I'm not going to like the book. But one person in my life who recommends a book two to three times a year - and almost always one I am initially suspect of because it is not something I would pick out myself - is my son Merrick.

I never would have read Orson Scott Card (Ender's Game), Haruki Murakami (Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World) or Yann Martell (Life of Pi - though I probably would have got to that one eventually) - to name just a few.

Honestly, I really wasn't interested in a novel that deals with the political history of the Dominican Republic under the brutal Trujillo regime - I can watch the news if I want to be depressed was my first thought - but Merrick recommended it - and Diaz's first novel did garner a few little awards like the Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Critic's Circle Award. But on the issue of awards, that's not necessarily a dealmaker for me; after all, there's more than a few Oscar-winning movies none of us liked. So it came back to Merrick's recommendation. I ordered it, promptly put it on the stack of books by my bed - where it dropped as low as the bottom third (usually the sure sign it's never going to be opened) - and read other stuff for six months before finally picking Oscar up. Reluctantly. Did I mention this book deals with the political history of the Dominican Republic under the the brutal Trujillo regime - AND includes footnotes with historical context and explanations throughout the novel?

Are you feeling as unenthused about Oscar as I was yet? I can go on!

But what a pleasure The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao was to read. The jumbled but poetic wordsmything (along with those interesting and slightly disconcerting but somehow fitting footnotes) mark Diaz, the author, as an interesting blend of stream of conscious thought and carefully constructed and intellectual analysis of the world through the eyes of his characters and his out-of-story interjections as self-aware author. (I guess pulling that off is part of the reason he is a professor at MIT. I'm pretty sure he's a very smart guy.) The novel is a subtle and nuanced winding road with an occasional roadblock that delivers a direct, to-the-point, academic, sledge hammer observation on life.

Our hero, Oscar, is born in poverty in the DR - though his grandfather was a wealthy and famous physician in that nation whose unforgivable crime against the state was to hide a beautiful daughter from the lecherous Trujillo - and moves to a rundown, hardscrabble community in New Jersey that is bordered by a dump on one side and a six lane highway on another. There is a fleeting period of Oscar's life when he is the most handsome boy in his neighborhood and school and his mom and great aunt are convinced he is destined to be an international pop star - perhaps as big as Porfirio Rubirosa. But that is a short lived fantasy on their part as Oscar becomes a fat little boy who is the object of ridicule and relentless teasing from classmates. It doesn't help that Oscar's mother is distant and harsh to the point of cruelty - she would probably be reported to health and human services today - with he and his sister. (There's a reason this savage beauty is the way she is that can only be explained by the ravages of the curse described in the next paragraph of this review.) But Oscar is a survivor and escapes into a world of sci-fi and fantasy - he is a bonafide literature and gaming nerd - that allows him to be and dream anything but what he is. Speaking of dreams, Oscar has only two compelling visions in life:  first is to become the Domincan version of J.R.R. Tolkien; and second is to find true love, something he he feels he glimpsed in the golden age of his pre-adolescent youth when he seemed to be on his way to becoming the next Pofirio Rubirosa. Oscar writes novels by nightstand light and falls madly in love on a constant basis - always and inevitably to experience the anguish of heartbreak. Sometimes before the object of his affection even knew he was in love with her.

I should have started where the book starts and mentioned that Oscar is primarily about an evil spirit - the Dominican word is fuku - that has cursed Oscar's family from the moment Trujillo (master of or mastered by evil spirits?) heard rumors of the beautiful daughter of Oscar's grandfather. The evil spirit has destroyed or stolen anything good the family has had or might have experienced - from lands and wealth to beauty and health. (Oscar believes the original fuku landed at San Juan with Christopher Columbus: the Ground Zero of the curse.) So Oscar's family's story is that of a precipitous fall from grace to one of dysfunctional but heroic struggle against the weight of a brutal personal history. The ultimate question I got from the book is this: if you are cursed is there any point in fighting it? Isn't that what a curse is - something you can't fight? Or is there something one can do? How does a lost, downtrodden, forgotten, broken family - and a not-so-little boy who suffers from depression and inertia - stand up to all that an evil spirit - one that is still alive in human form through Trujillo's heirs - and all that it can send at them?

On a visit to see family in the DR it is the frightened, cowardly, non-threatening and non-physically-imposing, ostracized, outcast, loner Oscar that dons the armor of a knight from one of his fantasy novels and choose to face and slay the fuku beast on behalf of his family once and for all - and win the heart of his one and only true love while doing it.

Does his story end in the most improbably of victories - like Frodo Baggins in Oscar's author-hero's Lord of the Rings trilogy - or does his family's fuku prevail and claim yet another victim? If you're in the mood to read a book that deals with the political history of the Dominican Republic during the brutal Trujillo reign, you will discover the answer!

Sad. Humorous. Fanciful. Brutal. Optimistic. Fatalistic. Jumbled. Linear. The Brief and Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao has it all.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

We'll Be Friends Forever


My wife Amy's grandmother, Ora Zimmerman Knies, died in her sleep on June 11, 2010. Three days later we gathered at Memaw's funeral mass held at St. Stephen Catholic Church in Hermitage, Tennessee. She was survived by her three "boys," 11 grandchildren, 22 great grandchildren, and 19 great great grandchildren. She just missed holding a fifth generation of babies, with one of the great great's due to have a child in a few weeks when she passed away.

Beyond savoring the memories and bonds of love and family, anyone who attended her funeral couldn't help but reflect on all that Memaw had seen in her 109 active and colorful years of life. She was born January 13, 1901 - the year the first radio receiver picked up a transmission. Had she entered the world just two weeks earlier she would have been alive during three of the centuries of the Christian Era calendar.

Ora was born in the Territory of Oklahoma - it would not be admitted to statehood for another six years - and traveled crosscountry by horse-drawn carriage as a young girl when her family moved to Winchester, Tennessee.

The array of inventions and developments she witnessed in her lifetime is mind boggling - from the Wright Brothers engine powered airplane to commercial air travel and rockets and man landing on the moon; from the newspaper to the radio and on to the television, which itself morphed from black and white to technicolor with hundreds of stations; from the first Model-T rolling off the assembly line in Detroit in 1908 to the interstate highway system of the Eisenhower era; from penicillin and bubble gum in 1928 to the atomic bomb during World War II.

She witnessed the two world wars with Germany - the first by radio only and the second by radio and television. The day after her death, Governor Phil Bredesen of Tennessee landed in Germany to meet with Volkswaagen officials to discuss manufacturing opportunities in his state.

The United States of America has had 44 presidents in its history. Memaw lived during the presidency of 20 of them, from McKinley to Obama, and including her favorite, JFK.

Ora lived alone in her own house until 103, when she entered an assisted living facility. Her flower and vegetable gardens are still legendary. She drove her car for the last time on her 100th birthday. She did not hand the keys to her sons readily or happily and it took her a few years to forgive them - even though, according to the daughters-in-law, Memaw was pretty certain her boys had never really done anything wrong in life. She finally had to quit bowling in the Madison Bowling League when she was past the age of 100 due to hip problems.

Memaw's last visit to our home was Christmas 2008 and she had a marvelous time, particularly looking through family photo albums. Amy had made memory books for Bo and Zach on their football seasons and after studying them several times, Ora proclaimed she was now a football fan. In fact, she wished she had learned to play. Her one complaint about her assisted living residence was the food. She loved to have a home cooked meal and she participated in the preparation for Christmas Dinner by making her much requested peanut butter fudge. She sat by me at dinner and told me numerous times that we would be friends forever.

We all know that how we live our lives is what matters most. But most of us still have a fondness for the ongoing numbering of our days as well. If longetivity didn't matter we wouldn't work so hard to live longer.

For Memaw, quality and quantity were inseparable. She was one of those believers who received in abundance both of the blessings expressed in Psalm 91:16: "I will reward them with a long life and give them my salvation" (NLT).

So Ora Zimmerman Knies, may I be so blessed, and yes, let's be friends forever.

Saturday, June 5, 2010

John Wooden - RIP

On June 4, 2010, John Wooden died a the age of 99 in Ronald Reagan UCLA Medical Center. He was named by his peers as the greatest team sport coach in American sporting history. Humble, selfless, caring, he won 10 NCAA national championships - something he never talked about - as coach at UCLA. He was a three-time All American at Purdue and won a national championship there as a player. He then coached high school and taught English for 11 years before entering the college ranks. During his tenure at UCLA, which began in 1948, he had four perfect seasons, had an 88-game winning streak, won 7 straight national championships, won 38 straight games in the NCAA tournament, was elected into the College Basketball Hall of Fame as both a coach and a player, and many other accomplishments.

But Wooden, a small-town country boy from Indiana never wavered in his values on the road to the bright lights of Tinseltown.

As a teacher, he began every basketball season by showing his players how to put their socks on the right way. He never talked to them about winning or losing; just living their lives with character. He designed a pyramid of success that he felt would make players victors not only on the court but in all of life. It included values like industriousness, loyalty, enthusiasm, initiative, alertness, poise, honesty, confidence, and other traits that were as much about being a good person as a good basketball player. As a coach, he didn't bully, he didn't cuss, he didn't run the most sophisticated systems. "He was really more like a parent than a coach," said Kareem Abdul-Jabbar.

The theme he spoke of most is love and the great love his life was Nellie, his wife of 53 years. She was his first love and the only girl he ever kissed. After her death, he would sit down on the 21st of each month and write her a love letter that he would then leave on her pillow. Sports columnist Rick Reilly often asked him if he could use the letters as the basis of a book they could write together on making love last. Even decades after her death Wooden, with tears running down his cheeks, would say it was too recent and he needed more time

The Wizard of Westwood was an icon for coaches who are themselves icons. His players speak of him reverentially. Bill Walton said that some of Coach Wooden's quotes and sayings - Woodenisms - that he snickered at as a player are the words he has on his walls and has taught his own children.

Just a sample of Woodenisms that will endure beyond his death are:

Ability is a poor man's wealth.
Adversity is the state in which man mostly easily becomes acquainted with himself, being especially free of admirers then.
Be more concerned with your character than your reputation, because your character is what you really are, while your reputation is merely what others think you are.
Consider the rights of others before your own feelings, and the feelings of others before your own rights.
Do not let what you cannot do interfere with what you can do.

Don't measure yourself by what you have accomplished, but by what you should have accomplished with your ability.
 Success is not final. Failure is not fatal. Courage is what counts.
If you don't have time to do it right, when will you have time to do it over?

If you're not making mistakes, then you're not doing anything. I'm positive that a doer makes mistakes.

It's the little details that are vital. Little things make big things happen.
 It's what you learn after you know it all that counts.
Material possessions, winning scores, and great reputations are meaningless in the eyes of the Lord, because He knows what we really are and that is all that matters.
Success comes from knowing that you did your best to become the best that you are capable of becoming.

John Wooden. RIP.