You’ve been anticipating your favorite author’s new release – maybe Brené Brown’s “Braving the Wilderness,” Michael Connelly’s “The Late Show,” or whatever James Patterson’s cohort of cowriters is releasing this week. You’re on the book’s Amazon page and your finger is itching to buy. Do you tap on “Hardcover” or “Kindle”?
Your choice may be pragmatic – the Kindle version means you don’t have to lug a hardback in your carry-on bag – or it could speak volumes about your attitude toward traditional paper books and digital books. Have you made the switch to digital, are you steadfastly committed to paper, or do you have a foot in each world?
The Digital Bridge
Like most bookworms of a certain age, I was firmly rooted in the paper tradition. Growing up, my central fantasy revolved around buying a house next door to the library, a nearly windowless building with vaulted ceilings, hushed whispers, and cooled air that rushed to greet me after a long bike ride in the shimmering summer heat. To this day, I can clearly picture the exact shelf and location where I could count on finding Madeleine L’Engle’s magnificent “A Wrinkle in Time.”
Fast forward through more than three decades of buying, borrowing, and lending bound books. Of detailed wish lists distributed to family members in search of gift ideas. Of driving with my sister to virtually every library in the county in search of each of John D. MacDonald’s 21 Travis McGee novels. Of finishing the last page of the last chapter of my new favorite author and having to scour Amazon and wait for her next book to arrive.
And then, as the leaves began to fall in 2007, the buzz about Amazon’s new e-reader, the Kindle, turned into a roar and my imagination took flight. While the first Kindle sold out less than six hours after its launch on November 19 (and wouldn’t be available for another five months), my fascination with the device’s potential grew. I was enticed by the prospect of having 200 books at my fingertips. In fact, I was slightly obsessed.
Yet it would be another three years and several more iterations – the Kindle 2, the Kindle DX, and the Kindle DX Graphite – before I would have a Kindle to call my own. My extraordinarily generous sister preordered a Kindle Keyboard (also known as the K3) for my birthday, and I had it in my hands by the first week of September 2010.
Fits and Starts
Considering my anticipation and excitement, I was loath to admit my new reading companion didn’t quite meet my expectations. My inner typography geek wasn’t thrilled with the fonts (or leading and kerning), though the Kindle’s E-Ink Pearl delivered nice contrast for readability. But my slight dissatisfaction was more a function of the Kindle’s inability to render the illustrations in the first e-book I purchased, “The Great Typo Hunt,” by Jeff Deck and Benjamin Herson.
Slightly daunted, I moved on to other titles. Some books (Steven James’ “The Pawn”) were initially only available as e-books. Other purchases were the result of a phenomena all-too-familiar to Kindle aficionados: borrowing paper copies of the first two books in a series, finishing the second, and immediately needing to start the third or face the prospect of serious withdrawals. So I had no choice but to rely on my Kindle to deliver “The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest,” the third volume of Stieg Larsson’s Millennium series.
Over the next year, another ten books found their way onto my Kindle, either because they were only available digitally or because my Amazon credit had to be redeemed for digital products. And then…thud. I fell off the Kindle bandwagon and went back to paper books. It turned out that I liked the heft of a book in my hands, the feeling of turning the pages, and – yes – the typography. I also welcomed visualizing the distance between my bookmark and the end of the book – something I could never quite gauge on my Kindle.
Six months passed in a haze of textured book covers, thick paper, and that irresistible new-book smell. During that time, the Kindle 4, Kindle Touch, and Kindle Fire were introduced. The first was notable for its accessible price ($79 with ads), the second for its touchscreen and experimental web browsing, and the third for its Android-based OS and iPad competition. When, in the spring of 2012, I was gifted a hand-me-down iPad, it was time to dip my toes into the Kindle waters again – this time with the Kindle app.
App on the Scene
The Kindle iPhone app had launched in 2009 to mixed reviews. Many felt that the concept was sound, but that the iPhone’s small screen size was too cramped, making reading for an extended period of time impractical. When the iPad debuted in April 2010, Amazon was quick to convert the Kindle app to a universal app for iOS. The iPad’s larger screen size created a welcome home for the Kindle app, and readers embraced WhisperSync’s ability to bookmark a page on the iPad and then seamlessly open to the same page on their iPhone or Kindle device.
I thoroughly enjoyed reading TIME Magazine on my new-to-me iPad, to the extent that I tossed the physical magazine into the recycling bin when it arrived. The crisp photo displays and bonus digital content exceeded expectations. Yet I still wasn’t sold on the Kindle app. My disorientation with respect to my place in a book persisted, and I became increasingly annoyed when a book abruptly ended but the app indicated that I’d read only 90 percent. Although I came to recognize that the app counted the sneak peek of the author’s next book, it disrupted the pace of my reading experience. It sent me running back to paperbacks and hardcovers for another two years.
While I was dithering around dusting my bookshelves, Amazon was busy improving the Kindle. The Kindle 5 was ultra light, weighing in at just under six ounces, and extremely affordable, but the groundbreaking Kindle Paperwhite stole the spotlight in 2012. Four LEDs illuminated the screen, the battery life was amped up to the equivalent of 28 hours of continuous use, and the contrast was exceptional. The Kindle Fire HD also made its debut, offering three screen sizes. The following year, Amazon offered the Kindle Fire HDX, and the Kindle Paperwhite 2 entered the market with a faster processor, improved touch response, and E Ink Carta for even better contrast.
In the fall of 2014, Amazon released the Kindle 7 – an updated classic, now with a touchscreen – along with the Fire HD 6 and 7, a newer version of the Fire HDX, and the Kindle Voyage. The Voyage added two LEDs and an adaptive backlight sensor, but received mixed reviews from users who felt the new features weren’t worth the $200 price tag, especially when compared to the still-sensational Paperwhite.
Living the Dream
Coincidentally, around the same time, I had an epiphany that would forever change my interactions with books. Thanks to the Kindle app, digital books, and my library card, I could, in a sense, (virtually) live next door to the library and fulfill my childhood fantasy.
My local library system – like fully 90 percent of U.S. libraries – offers digital books that can be checked out and downloaded to a Kindle or Kindle app via Amazon. That discovery enabled me to set aside persnickety notions of proper book placeholders and typography, and fully embrace the Kindle app. Since September 2011, I’ve downloaded 94 Kindle books – but only purchased 10. Five more were gifts, and the remaining 79 were all free library books, starting with James Patterson’s “12th of Never.” For chuckles, let’s say that all 79 library books were available in paperback (they weren’t) and that the average cost per paperback was $8.99 (it wasn’t). Even so, the $710.21 in savings would be enough to buy eight of today’s Fire HD 8 tablets with Alexa – with money left over for accessories.
While I was tapping my way through my 94 Kindle books, Amazon was busy refining its line of e-readers. The Kindle Paperwhite 3 was released in 2015 with twice the number of pixels as the original, as well as better typography and kerning. The following year, the Kindle Oasis hit the market, offering an E Ink Carta HD display, ten LEDs, and a sans-serif font. The asymmetrical design tapered on one side for ergonomic grip and rotated for single-handed operation. Amazon also upgraded its standard Kindle; the Kindle 8 was lighter, had increased RAM, and featured Bluetooth that could be used by screen readers.
The Pendulum Swings
A funny thing happened along my library journey: I developed a strong preference for Kindle books. So strong, in fact, that I no longer read paper books at all. The pendulum has swung to the extent that I’ll even pass on reading a signed first edition. A year ago, I was fortunate enough to attend an Ann Patchett reading for her latest book, “Commonwealth.” The price of the ticket included a copy of the book and, following her delightful talk, Patchett (one of my top three favorite authors) graciously signed my book.
I was incredibly anxious to read the book, but after the first dozen pages, it became an impossibility. I read in bed, lying on my side, with my iPad propped up on a pillow next to me. After three years spent with Kindle books, a hardcover book was so unwieldy, so heavy, and so awkward, what with the holding and the page turning and the bookmarking. I couldn’t be bothered. Instead, I added my name to the library waitlist and read “Commonwealth” on my Kindle app four months later. As crazy and lazy as it sounds, I’m a total Kindle convert.
Minority Report
My all-Kindle-all-the-time philosophy isn’t shared by many. According to the Pew Research Center, only six percent of those surveyed exclusively read digital books. In contrast, 28 percent read both print and digital books, and 38 percent read only print books.
Strikingly, Pew reports that, while digital book readership skyrocketed from 17 percent to 28 percent between 2011 and 2014, the numbers have since flatlined. Yet the devices used by people who read e-books dramatically expanded between 2011 and 2016. Those who use a Kindle or other e-reader have increased from 7 percent to 8 percent, but those reading on a tablet – like a Kindle Fire or iPad – mushroomed from 4 percent to 15 percent. Similarly, cell phone readership has increased from 5 percent to 13 percent.
By the Numbers
The percentage of folks reading digital books is only one slice of the Kindle story. The other is the market for Kindle e-readers and Kindle Fire tablets. Amazon’s approach has been similar to the approach used by computer printer manufacturers: sell the hardware at cost, and derive profit from the supplies. Just as printers are cheap and toner is expensive, Kindles are economical and e-books – which are essentially just digital files – are expensive.
While Amazon doesn’t release sales figures, Forbes estimated that 20 million Kindle devices (both e-readers and tablets) were sold in 2013, and that sales for Kindle e-readers skyrocketed to more than 13 million in 2011 before dropping to around 10 million in 2012. International Data Corporation reported that Amazon shipped an estimated 9.8 million Kindle Fire tablets in 2013, a number that plummeted to 3.3 million in 2014, but rose to 5 million during the fourth quarter of 2015, when the company released a $49.99 version of the Fire. The low-cost Fire spurred continued growth into 2016.
While it’s hard to pinpoint Kindle e-reader and tablet sales and market share, the Pew Research Center provides a second snapshot of the ways Americans have access to digital books. By the end of 2016, three-quarters of consumers owned smartphones and half owned tablets. Tellingly, 22 percent owned an e-reader, up from just 2 percent in 2009 but down from a high of 24 percent in 2013.
If you’ve never owned an e-reader and are ready to take the plunge, the Kindle Paperwhite is your best bet. It features four built-in LEDs, 300-ppi resolution, and a six-inch, glare-free display. Best of all, you can choose between a model with Wi-Fi only or Wi-Fi and 3G connectivity.
If you prefer a tablet, the Fire 7 has an unbeatable $49.99 price tag. You’ll not only be able to read to your heart’s content, but you’ll also have access to web surfing, videos, and music – plus a built-in camera that also shoots video.
Reconciling the Digital Divide
Ultimately, the paper vs. digital book controversy has a master arbitrator: Amazon. Whether you’re an e-book enthusiast or your reading experience feels hollow unless you can physically hold a book, Amazon delivers. Tap the “Kindle” button on a book’s Amazon page, and you’ll receive the immediate gratification of knowing the novel or biography is at your fingertips. Tap the “Hardcover” or “Paperback” button, and you’ll experience the delicious anticipation of a book arriving in the mail.
Either way, you can read to your heart’s content. As for me, I just received an email from the library informing me that the latest James Patterson book has been automatically checked out and that I can download it from Amazon. That’s book number 95 for my Kindle app – and my idea of bliss.