Earlier this week, after much build-up, O’Reilly announced they were now rolling out a new way to buy eBooks: by the chapter.
Adobe Enters (Further?) into the E-Book World
E-Reading Challenge VII: The Reader Lives! & Final Thoughts
After a surprisingly difficult series of support calls and emails, the Reader is working again.* I can buy books again and manage my library of Sony-purchased titles to my heart’s content. But it’s time for me to pass the Reader on to another BookNet staff member who will, after mocking the books I’ve left on the device, share their own thoughts of the experience.
The E-Paper Plot Thickens...
E-Reading Challenge: CONNECT in a Coma
Get Loaded with the iLiad E-Reader
Portrait of an E-Reader as an Early Adopter
I am truly the perfect candidate for using one of these pocket electronic libraries. I commute an hour and a half to work each day so I lug a lot of reading material—not to mention my laptop—back and forth 3 hours every day. My pack probably weighs close to 30lbs, and my chiropractic bill is astronomical.
Embracing the Money Factor While Struggling with the Form
BookNet Canada E-Reading Challenge Part V: Never a Borrower nor a Lender Be...
On the way home, I’m telling a friend about the book I’m reading. When I end my 30-second review, I catch myself. I usually wrap up any enthusing about a book with I can lend it to you when I’m done… I can’t lend this to anyone. My Special Topics in Calamity Physics is in Sony’s proprietary format. If had some other kind of e-ink device, they couldn’t read it. Even if they had a Reader, I couldn’t lend it to them. I would be breaking the law, violating the license that goes along with the book.
BookNet Canada E-Reading Challenge IV: If This Is the Future, Why Do I Feel Like a Dork?
The London Book Fair is a hypersocial time for me. Lots of people to catch up with, meetings all day. Trade-fair wayfinding, balancing directory, map, briefcase and much-needed coffee. Hectic and fun. But every year, after the first day, when jetlag starts to press down, between the fair meetings and the dinner meeting, I need a pub and a book and an hour or two of quiet. Except now, as I sit down to a pint of Shepherd Neame’s finest, I find myself pulling out the Reader in a crowded bar off Charing Cross Road.
I feel like a dork.
