May 03

I bought an Amazon Kindle 2 earlier this year. I’ve now read several novels and a bunch of short stories on it, as well as two magazines and a newspaper. I feel I know the device well enough to be able to review it.

Mobile phones are all about bling. Fancy cases, custom screensavers, custom ringtones, and so on. The iPhone has upped the ante as far as bright candy-colored animated buttons, slick animations, and throwaway gimmick applications. Reading a book, however, is all about forgetting the object, forgetting the real world, and being drawn into the text. So ultimately, the ideal e-book reader would be one you barely noticed.

The Kindle is a pretty good design. It basically works as a book, which means you shouldn’t expect any "wow" moments. In fact, it’s easy to examine it and think "So what?" Many people have done just that. But I’m going to leave the naysaying for another article. First, I want to talk about what it’s like to live with and use a Kindle.

The device itself is about the size of a trade paperback. Here are a couple of pictures of it sitting with a paperback copy of Philip K. Dick’s masterpiece "VALIS":

Kindle vs VALIS

Kindle thickness compared to book

As you can see, it’s about the same size and thickness, and that’s including the protective case. To compare the Kindle to another familiar object, it’s about the same size as a regular DVD case, plus an extra centimeter or two of height.

On the other hand, the Kindle is a bit less than twice the weight of the trade paperback. The metal back probably doesn’t help, but it does mean that the device feels solid and substantial, and not like a piece of cheap flimsy plastic.

Putting it all together, with the extra weight and familiar size, it still feels like a book. Sitting and reading with it therefore feels immediately somewhat familiar and comfortable.

Of course, that’s a comparison with a single trade paperback of typical size. Here’s a different comparison:

Kindle vs doorstops

That’s the complete Hitchhiker’s Guide in hardback, and a copy of David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest in paperback. I’ve also got Infinite Jest on the Kindle; guess which is more comfortable to curl up in bed with?

The main attraction of the Kindle is the screen. It uses e-ink, which means that the screen basically looks like laser printer output. To be more precise, the Kindle screen has about half the resolution of a low end laser printer, but uses shades of gray to antialias the text and make it smoother. There is no glow or flicker at all. The background is gray, and the print is dark gray; overall, it has slightly less contrast than a well printed paper book, but still looks very good.

Here’s a photo of a yellowing Harlan Ellison paperback, next to the Kindle screen. I’m not sure exactly why, but the Kindle doesn’t seem to look good in photos. In real life, the two are about comparable in readability. The paper has slightly better contrast, but the cheap printing tends to mean the letterforms are a bit irregular.
Kindle screen readability
You’ll notice I’ve put a dark vinyl skin on my Kindle. The pure white of the casing is one of the few design errors Amazon have made. Because of the way our eyes work, it makes the e-ink screen look darker and less readable than it really is. That’s why if you see a Sony e-book in your local Borders, you might think its screen looks superior. (The bright lighting in the store also helps.)

Some have questioned why the bezel around the Kindle screen is so large. It turns out that there’s a good design reason: it makes the device more comfortable to hold. The space at the sides of the screen is almost exactly the width of my thumb. I can hold the device in one hand, gripping with my thumb, without touching the screen. To flip to the next page, I simply need to roll my thumb slightly, thus clicking the next page button. This means that it’s actually easier to flip to the next page on the Kindle than it is with a paper book. In addition, there’s no risk of accidentally flipping two pages at once.

A related issue that worries people about the Kindle is that the screen refresh is slow compared to an LCD. Also, the entire screen blinks while it refreshes. Well, I’m glad to say that after a very few hours, it becomes a non-issue; you simply don’t notice it any more.

The first reason is that the "blink" isn’t like an LCD flashing; there’s no light emitted. Secondly, the refresh happens significantly faster than I can reliably turn a page in a paper book. And thirdly, you subconsciously learn to time your button click so that the refresh happens while your eyes are moving from the bottom of the screen back to the top. Honestly, I’ve been jolted out of the flow of reading more often with problems turning pages in paper books.

Of course, it’s not good enough to be able to do the things that a paper book does. Technology needs to offer some advantages, so let me outline a few.

First of all, you can change the text size. The picture above shows the second smallest size, which is about the same as a paperback. If you have poor eyesight, you can flip to double size without needing to buy a special large print version of your books. That’s probably one of the reasons why Kindle ownership seems to skew towards older readers.

I don’t need large text, but a feature I do find myself using is the built-in dictionary. If I hit a word I don’t know, I can highlight it with the cursor to get a brief description, without leaving the page. (The definition appears in a bubble at the bottom of the screen.) Clicking enter gives me the full Concise Oxford American Dictionary entry, if I want it. When I’m done, I can hit Back to go back to where I was.

Now, obviously I have a paper dictionary sitting on my bookshelves. I could go look up words from paper books–but I hardly ever did. I never wanted to break my reading session, go find the dictionary, and leaf through it to find the right definition. As for the idea of carrying the dictionary around with me when reading–no, that wasn’t going to happen. So Kindle will probably lead to my actually learning some new words.

Another feature I use a lot is highlighting. You can use the cursor joystick to swipe across some text. That text automatically appears in a text file you can read on your computer, complete with the title of the book you read it in, the author name, and the place in the book. If you view your highlighted text from the Kindle, you can jump back to the actual page.

Annotations work much the same way: Move the cursor to the spot and start typing, and you get a footnote marker in the text which will lead you to your note. The note itself appears in a computer-readable text file, again with the author and title and location.

These features absolutely rock my world for book club reading and personal study. I’m currently working through a book on US history, annotating and highlighting as I go. When I’m done I’ll pull the text into an outliner, and use it as an instant first draft of some revision notes. Similarly, when reading last month’s book for the book club I’m in, I swiped bits I particularly liked, and jotted down notes here and there, then e-mailed the file to my BlackBerry to act as discussion crib notes. So again, there’s a real convenience gain over jotting in a notebook or on an envelope used as a bookmark.

Ah yes, bookmarks. Say goodbye to those. When you want to stop reading with Kindle, you can just put it down and forget about it. It’ll power off automatically after a few minutes of no page turns, flipping the screen to a picture of a famous author or illuminated manuscript. When you pick it up and push the switch to turn it on, you’re right back where you left off.

You can even close the book you’re reading and go back to the menu and read something else, and next time you open the same book, you go back to wherever you were last reading.

What if you page back to an earlier point in the book to revisit something earlier? Push the menu button, and there’s an option to jump you straight to the furthest point you’ve read to.

If you still really, really want a way to drop multiple bookmarks, then the annotation feature will do the job. However, Kindle is primarily aimed at the kind of text you read from start to finish in a linear fashion. If that’s what you’re reading, you never have to think about bookmarks, never have to deal with lost bookmarks. The right thing happens automatically.

Having said that Kindle is aimed at linear reading, it does nevertheless have a search feature. I haven’t used it, other than to verify that it works. I imagine I might find a use for it when I’m done with my history book and want to go back and see if I missed noting any good stuff about Thomas Jefferson.

Books can also have a table of contents, allowing you to click an entry with the joystick and skip to the appropriate part of the book. There can be cover art too, though the grayscale screen isn’t going to wow you with that.

You might be wondering about battery life. The e-ink screen uses no power to maintain its display, so the only time battery is used is when you push a button. I go over a week between charges, even with heavy weekend reading.

One thing that does eat battery is the wireless networking. For that reason, I don’t tend to use the Kindle for web browsing, and turn off the wireless unless I’m expecting to receive something. Even with wireless on, though, a battery charge will last you for days. The charger is barely larger than an AC wall plug. It’s USB, so you can also charge from a computer, or a universal USB charger. The cable for the Kindle is a standard micro-USB cable. Ah, if only Apple were as good about using non-proprietary chargers and cables…

Buying books is easy. You go to Amazon, log in, find something interesting, and hit the 1-click button to buy it. In less than a minute, it appears on your Kindle. You can also order stuff from the Kindle itself, but I’ve generally found that the experience is better with the full Amazon web site rather than the cut-down pages served up on the device itself.

Another killer feature is the free previews. When I see any moderately interesting book that has a Kindle edition, I hit the free preview button. Amazon sends me a chunk of the first chapter. If I read that and decide I want to read the rest of the book, I can order the book straight from the Kindle. The full book replaces the preview, and inside a minute I’m back to reading.

According to rumors, Amazon is getting 10% of its book sales as Kindle editions. Amazon say that Kindle owners buy 2.6x as many books at Amazon as non-Kindle-owners. I don’t doubt this, as I’ve found that the Kindle has gotten me reading more. The conveniences I’ve described may seem slight, but when you add them together, it seems to me that the Kindle is better than paper. I find myself increasingly reluctant to buy paper books–especially when they’re hardbacks, lengthy works, or (worst of all) both.

The Kindle does have some downsides. Yes, the initial cost is pretty high, as it’s still very much at the early adopter phase right now. You have to read a lot of books to make up the money in savings, so don’t look at it from a cost-saving point of view; it’s all about convenience.

There’s not much snob value either. If you’re the kind of New York hipster who has to be seen reading the right books, the Kindle won’t appeal to you.

A related issue is that the selection of e-books available isn’t fantastic. It annoys me that there’s nothing by Lem, very little by J.G. Ballard, not enough Harlan Ellison, no Jeff Noon, only one book by Michael Marshall Smith, and so on. It’s rather like the early days of CD or DVD; and as was the case with those new technologies, the selection is getting better all the time.

But that said, there are already more wonderful books than I’ll ever have time to read–so perhaps it’s time I get back to my comfy chair. In a while, I’ll be writing a second article, dealing with common objections to the Kindle, and whether they stand up.

Mar 13

Amazon have misused the DMCA to demand takedown of a file called azw-0.1.zip. Since I have both the archive file and a Kindle, and have used both together, I can explain what’s really going on. Hopefully this will clear up some of the misinformation floating around.

The code in the disputed zip file is written in Python. It calculates the Mobipocket PID for your Kindle, based on the serial number written on the back. You can then provide this PID to any e-book store that sells e-books in DRMed Mobipocket format. They can sell you encrypted Mobipocket e-books, and you can then run a second Python script which flips a flag in the e-book file, making it readable on your Kindle. (The flag is just one that says “This is encrypted for Kindle”; no encryption is broken.)

This works because Amazon bought Mobipocket a few years ago, and used their DRM scheme and e-book format as the basis of the Kindle’s e-book format. The basic Mobipocket format is pretty simple. It’s HTML inside a Palm OS PDB database. That’s it. The DRM just adds a layer of encryption.

So, why are Amazon upset about this?

One theory is that they don’t want Kindle owners buying books anywhere other than Amazon.com. Well, if that’s the case, they’re playing a losing game, because Fictionwise (recently purchased by Barnes & Noble) sells e-books in DRM-free Mobipocket format, which you can just drag-drop onto your Kindle.

A second theory is that Amazon don’t want people to be able to create DRM-encumbered e-books for Kindle themselves, bypassing whatever fees Amazon may be charging for the service. I don’t know how true that may be, as I have no interest in creating DRM-encumbered anything, so I’ve never investigated how much Amazon charges.

My personal theory is that the real reason Amazon don’t want people finding out their Kindle’s Mobipocket PID is a fear that people will then find out how to decrypt their DRM-encumbered Mobipocket books.

And indeed, there is a completely different set of Python scripts floating around on the web that will decrypt a Mobipocket e-book given the PID used to encrypt it. This shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone; DRM is fundamentally flawed. Clearly the e-book reader software has to have all the information necessary to decrypt the book so that it can show it to me. That being the case, it’s inevitable that the decryption code will be reverse-engineered if enough people are motivated enough to do so.

But make no mistake: the azw-0.1 files do not break any copy protection or reveal any secret codes. They just calculate the PID of your Kindle, based on the serial number that’s written right on the back of the device in plain sight. They are interoperability tools, and the DMCA explicitly allows for interoperability tools. I suspect that the EFF could take on this case and win easily.

While I’m writing, here’s a quick summary of a few Kindle myths that I see repeated a lot in coverage of the story:

  • The Kindle traps you into buying everything from Amazon.

    Not true. Even if the azw scripts were illegal, you could still buy as much DRM-free content as you liked, load it directly onto the Kindle via USB, and never use the wireless connection to Amazon at all. As mentioned above, you can buy DRM-free e-books in Kindle-ready Mobipocket files from Fictionwise.

    It’s like the iPod: you may be stuck with a single vendor for DRM-encumbered content, but you can buy your DRM-free content from anywhere. Personally, I intend to buy as little DRM-crippled content as possible, and hope that Amazon gets the message.

  • The Kindle uses proprietary e-book format.

    As mentioned above, the Kindle’s native format is a trivial variation on Mobipocket format, which is HTML inside a Palm PDB database. The open-source mobiperl tools will pack and unpack .mobi and .azw files.

    As Mobipocket’s FAQ points out, the HTML extensions and metadata are based on an open industry standard.

    Also, there are free tools from Mobipocket for creating e-books. They’re Windows-only, however, and don’t seem to work under WINE.

  • You have to get all your content onto your Kindle by sending it to Amazon.

    Wrong. The Kindle mounts as a hard drive, using Storage Class USB. No drivers are required on Windows, Mac or Linux. Your library of books appears in a folder called “documents”. They’re just .azw and .mobi files. You can drag more books into the folder in Mobipocket or ISO-8859-1 text format, and the Kindle will display them.

    If you want to read PDFs, you have three options. One is to e-mail the PDF to your Amazon Kindle e-mail address; Amazon will convert it and it will appear wirelessly on your Kindle, at a cost of 10 cents. The second option is to e-mail the PDF to your free Kindle conversion e-mail address, and have Amazon e-mail it back in mobi/azw format for you to load onto your Kindle via USB. The third option is to use free tools to convert the PDF to mobi yourself, in which case Amazon need never see what’s in your PDF.

    From my own experiments, it appears that Amazon are using the open source pdf2edit on their back end as the conversion tool. Either that, or they’re using something which has exactly the same formatting conversion quirks.

Nov 20

Dear Amazon,

You’re so almost there with your new Kindle e-book. There are just a few minor details you need to fix to get me on board.

First of all, you need Mac support, and preferably Linux support as well, both for content creation and for reading books. There’s really no excuse for not having reader support, as you have a working Mobipocket reader in Java that will run on Mac and Linux, you just haven’t taken the time to package it up properly. The creation tools ought to be a pretty simple task to port too; a command line version would be fine. I don’t even care if it can’t apply DRM; I just want a way to be able to package up free text.

Secondly, you need to either drop the DRM, or drop the price of the books. Let’s consider a real example here. I’m about to start reading Charlie Stross’s The Atrocity Archives.

Let’s get one thing straight here: because there’s DRM, I can’t sell the book when I’m done with it, which breaks the first sale doctrine. Therefore, you’re not actually selling e-books, you’re renting them to me for an indefinite period of time, a bit like Netflix does with DVDs. I’d respect you more if you admitted that.

Anyhow, If I go the Kindle route, it’s $9.99 for the book.

Suppose I go the paper route instead. I can pick up a new copy on amazon.com marketplace for $12 plus $4 shipping = $16. When I’m done reading it, I can sell it for $9 second hand. Total cost to me = $7.

So the Kindle is more expensive, and I can’t actually buy the books. That to me is a poor deal.

Oh, sure, Kindle prices include network bandwidth… but with paper books, I had to include the cost of physically shipping dead tree across the country, and I still came out ahead. If you can’t beat the paper book price-per-reading, you’re doing something seriously wrong.

We’ve all watched the music industry flail around overcharging for DRM-burdened files and get nowhere. Learn from their mistakes. Drop the DRM, or drop the book prices to $5 or so (comparable to a DVD or video game rental, plus some markup to cover network costs) and I’ll order my Kindle tomorrow.

Update: Of course, if you gave me the Kindle for free, I’d use it to buy books from you, and look on the extra cost as a convenience fee.

Dec 01

My previous PDA was a Palm V. 16MHz 68000, 160×160 B&W screen that could do greyscale in special modes that most software didn’t use. I didn’t particularly want to replace it, but there were a few issues I was having.

First off, the fact that it was serial based rather than USB meant it was a pain to connect to any modern computer; getting it hooked up to the Mac involved a USB to serial adaptor, special drivers, and a lot of futzing with Palm Desktop, and the end result was painfully slow. As a result, I hadn’t synced it in ages.

Secondly, I’d never liked the screen. Going from the Newton MessagePad to the Palm had been a serious downgrade, necessitated by Jobs killing the Newton. I’d been waiting around for some usable Palm devices with at least 320×480 resolution and a 10cm screen, and they finally started appearing in the last year or so.

Other than USB and a big screen, I didn’t really care too much about fancy features; just the obvious stuff—a beeper you can hear easily for alarms, either Bluetooth or wi-fi with an option for the other one, enough memory for a comprehensive GTD list, and maybe a few games and e-books, and connectivity to Mac and Linux.

I did consider the “smart phone” option (again). I came to the same conclusion as last time I considered it: it just doesn’t work. Generally speaking, I want my PDA screen to be as large as possible, and my phone to be as small as possible. Specifically, I want my PDA screen to be big enough to be usable for reviewing an outline of a hundred or so items, and my phone to be small enough to fit in the pocket of my jeans. The Treo 650 fails both tests—it’s too big for a phone and too small for a pocketbook. I’m sure it’s just the right size for some people, but not for me.

Pocket PC devices? Yeah, right. Even if I was prepared to assist Microsoft’s plans for World Domination, the Pocket PC is pretty much crippled unless you run Windows and/or Office, and I don’t run either. So Microsoft eliminated themselves from consideration.

Nokia Communicator? Tempting, but Nokia don’t seem to sell it in the USA. Or at least, I’ve never seen one, and I’m not buying one without seeing the screen first.

Psion? They seem to have given up on the consumer market, and they always price-gouged outrageously for proprietary peripherals and upgrades. No thanks.

Sony Ericsson P series? Again, I’d never actually seen one, and didn’t fancy buying sight unseen, especially not after my experiences with the Sony Ericsson t68i. Plus, you know, $700…

Zaurus? Tempting again. I kept waiting for Sharp to start selling the clamshell Zaurus machines. Unfortunately, all they sell in the US is the SL-6000. It’s thick and heavy and has a keyboard that’s too small to use, hidden in a sliding mechanism. I don’t like sliding mechanisms, they’re too unreliable. I met some guys from Sharp at a show, and told them I hated the 6000, and when would they be selling the SL-C7xx series or some other clamshell design? They said that they both wanted clamshell Zauruses too, but the Japanese mothership had decided that we were wrong, nobody in America wants clamshell machines. I wasn’t prepared to pay $800+ to Dynamism for an unwarrantied Japanese import Zaurus re-flashed with a partially translated OS, though clearly the fact that some people are rather puts a hole in Sharp’s official position. Anyway, I waited a year or so to see if Sharp would relent and sell my a PDA I wanted, then crossed them off the list when they failed to do so.

So, my short list of options was: Tungsten T3, Tungsten T5, Sony CLIE PEG-TH55, Tapwave Zodiac.

The Tungsten T3 has a gratuitous sliding mechanism. The slider wasn’t going to protect the screen, and I couldn’t imagine any concievable circumstance where I’d want to make the screen smaller than it already was, so what was the point? The T5 kinda illustrates the uselessness of it. I expect it was purely a matter of wanting to recycle the case of the Tungsten T and just drop in a different screen instead of having to do a major redesign. So, not really very appealing.

Ah, the Tungsten T5. Looks like a fabulous device until you read some reviews. The biggest problem is that Pa1mOne b0rked the OS on the T5 and the Treo 650, so that every single database entry is now allocated in 512 byte chunks, like on a desktop PC. So if (like me) you carry small databases with hundreds of phone numbers, to-do items and scraps of info, suddenly they bloat out to 10x the size. To me, it seems like that rather ruins the point of the thing. Palm say they are going to fix it, but the fact that they’ve given Treo 650 owners free memory cards to make up for it suggests otherwise, and they’re keeping very quiet about fixing it for the T5. The T5 has 128MB, so allowing for bloat of the kind Treo 650 users have observed, it’s like a 32MB machine—and Palm think that’s OK.

Even ignoring the memory issue, though, there are other problems. The T5 has software compatibility issues. Most software developers are scrambling with updates, but good luck getting classic Palm freeware to run on it. The connector for sync is yet another new design, so none of the existing peripherals will work. And worst of all, it has no vibration mode. Yup, if you’re in a meeting, cinema, church or whatever, you can’t have it vibrate instead of beeping for alarms. It’s the same rather anemic speaker as the T3, and it’s mounted in the center of the back of the device, so as soon as you lay it on a desk, put it in a carrying case, or even hold it in your hand, the sound is badly muffled.

So in short, the T5 fails the basic functionality requirements due to some very poor design choices by Palm.

Next to be eliminated was the CLIE. Sony decided they weren’t interested in selling in the US any more. That left the Tapwave Zodiac, and I bought one.

Things I like about the Zodiac:

  • It has the biggest rechargeable battery capacity of any Palm device.
  • The case is made of metal, not plastic like the T5.
  • Because it was designed for gaming, it has two front-mounted speakers for loud stereo sound, and a strong vibration function.
  • It has a graphics processor, leaving the CPU free to do actual CPU stuff, so performance is lightning-fast.
  • The internal memory behaves as regular Palm memory, with most of the free space being used to simulate an internal memory card. This is important because Palm OS craps out once files get large, so your photos and MP3s and e-books need to go in “card memory”. With the Zodiac, you get some “card memory” built in…
  • …and then you’ve got two SD expansion slots, one of which takes SDIO cards.
  • A proper navigation joystick and a complete set of application buttons.
  • Most color Palm software seems to run, including titles which I know don’t run on the T5.
  • Real headphone jack capable of driving a pair of portable Sennheisers.
  • It’s black.

Things I don’t like:

  • The stylus just clips on the back. I can see that getting lost.
  • The sync cable is hard to clip on; it tends to feel like it’s clipped on, only to suddenly drop off half way through a data transfer.
  • Case and dock cost extra. C’mon, guys, would it kill you to bundle a cheap neoprene carrying pouch?

Basically, it’s the nicest Palm device I’ve ever seen. It’s a shame that Tapwave’s strategy is to sell it as a game console, because it’s not so hot at being one of those. As a Palm organizer, though, it easily beats the competition—at least as far as the hardware is concerned.