It’s not often you can say you’re reading a book because of a conversation you had with your brother over Christmas about how you would survive the Zombie Apocalypse. (If you’re curious, we decided that for long term survival a katana would be the weapon of choice). I was making the argument that why would you want to be the last human on earth? Pulling in themes from I am Legend (the book), I argued that I saw no point in fighting for the remnants of humanity when, even if a handful were to survive for a short period, ultimately in a pandemic of zombieism, the monsters would win and become the norm. Surely, I said, the worst thing about becoming a zombie was loosing all sense of self afterward? A zombie with a brain now…

Brother Dearest mentioned a book he half remembered. I googled “zombie retain consciousness” and got to Monster Island:

The Book:
Monster Island by David Wellington

The Facts:
Pages: 378 (paperback)
ISBN: 978-1905005475
Published: 1 May 2007
Price: £7.99
Publisher: Snowbooks

The Blurb:
As the shambling zombie masses cover the globe, advanced nations quickly succumb to the feeding frenzy. Complacent first-world citizens are no match for the mindless, fearless undead. Civilization’s only hope rests in war zones like Somalia, where fighting for survival is the norm.

From this quarter emerges an unlikely group of heroes. A small army of girl warriors are crossing the world to find the supplies necessary for their survival. They are guided by Dekalb, a former UN inspector, chosen for his knowledge of America.

The zombie plague has taken out this once-powerful nation, and the insatiable undead now fill the streets of New York City. One amongst them is different. Though driven by the same hunger, his mind is alive, and he’s discovering the advantages this difference can bring. Dekalb will soon learn that if there’s anything more dangerous than a flesh-hungry zombie, it’s one with a plan.

The Review:
Dig a little deeper on the web and it turns out that Monster Island was first written as a serial novel in blog-format. This shows in the writing from the start, where the chapters are short, as are the sentences. The action starts from the first page, as the Statue of Liberty looms through the fog, and it continues pretty much unabated till the final page. It’s clearly written to be read on the web and on the screen, grabbing your attention and never straying too far from the styalistic path. It would be rather two-faced of me, a blogger, to take issue with this style, so I’m not going to take issue with it.

Apart from the fact I don’t like how it translates to the printed page and book-form.

The book grated on me pretty quickly and kept grating upto the last page. I found the flat two POV narration irritating, with the constant flip-flopping between Dekalb and Gary jarring. All the time as I was reading and jumping from one crisis to the next I had a niggling desire in the back of my mind for more flesh on the narrative bone. Give me some characterisation, I pleaded. A plot-twist you don’t see coming from the first page. A chapter longer than seven sides – yes, I counted. The longest is the final chapter which wraps everything up, and even that’s only eight sides long. Perhaps I’m jealous? Brevity is a technique I’ve never mastered and it does have it’s place, but to me the constant flipping between narrative voices and action simply meant I never fully got into the story. It read like a modern music video: styalistic, dramatically shot and fast cut; all flashing lights and swooping camera angles, with scantily clad beauties and a thomping tune to distract you from the lack of content.

Still, I enjoyed it. I loved the concept of intelligent zombies. The most convincing section of the book was the section which detailed (all to briefly) the spiraling collapse of civilization. Moments of brilliance shone through the book and one of the main supporting cast, Ayaan the gun-toting school girl, was touchingly drawn. It kept me entertained through two hours of having my hair cut/coloured. I wanted to get to the end to find out what happened (I’d guessed correctly). I even felt a little sad that I had reached the end and that certain characters met the fate that they did.

Would I recommend Monster Island?
Probably not. It’s telling that there are two other books in the sequence (Monster Nation and Monster Planet) and that I don’t want to read either of them. It’s also telling that I’m probably not going to pick the book up again any time soon for a re-read. I don’t begrudge the money I spent on the book exactly, but looking back I’d rather have read it in it’s free form off the web.

Two mugs of tea and a biscuit – bits of the book were good and I appreciate it for the authors experimentation with the free-web/pay-print model, but on the whole I think I’ll give the zombie genre a miss for a while. Shuffling undead work on the screen but it takes a better author than Wellington to make them scary on the page.

PS: The Amazon links I’m using here affiliate links. All I get out of these reviews is the joy/horror of reading new books and sharing them with you 🙂

Ok, Birthday Fairycakes really, but the other has such a nice alliterative feel to it.

I’m following the course of action that suggests a way to a mans heart is through his stomach. If the EDLO’s reaction to the cakes is any way to judge, he’s halfway to proposing marriage already, but then are so are the rest of my team! Never have I seen 15 fairy cakes vanish so rapidly. I was going to take a picture but by the time I remembered to reach for the camera-phone, they were inhaled!

These really are insanely simple to make – just four (five if you’re feeling fancy) ingredients, half an hour, and they’re done – but are remarkably effective. The following amounts make 15 standard fairy cakes or 8 to 10 muffin-sized cakes.

Ingredients (cake)

• 100 g margarine
• 100 g caster sugar
• 100 g self raising flour
• 2 medium eggs
• 1 tsp ground ginger/cinnamon/nutmeg to taste

Ingredients (frosting)

• Approx 50 ml whipping cream
• 1 bag Maltesers (crushed)

Method

1. Cream the margarine and sugar
2. Beat in the eggs, one at a time, adding a spoonful of flour with each egg
3. Gently fold in the remaining flour and stir until smooth
4. Pour into paper cases (about halfway full as the mix will rise)
5. 190⁰ C / GM5 oven for 15 minutes (until golden and firmly spongy to the touch)

1. Whilst the cakes are cooling, whip the cream till nice and stiff
2. Crush the Maltesers and fold into the cream
3. Ice the cakes
4. Eat…

Tips
Usually I have tips/suggestions at the end of a basic recipe. Not this time; it is that straight forward. You could try playing around with flavourings (the cinnamon bit), maybe adding some cocoa powder? Or play around with the frosting some. You’re limited only by your imagination. And ability to stop from scoffing the results of your labours before they’re iced…

Not having a voice, even temporarily, is a very strange and eye opening experience. We take our voices for granted and not just for speech. We make countless vocalisations throughout our days to communicate with other people.

From something as simple as an “uh-huh” to show you’re listening to a friend whilst she shares the latest trauma of her love life, to a muffled “F***” at work when something goes wrong (eliciting soothing response from the boss), to an “Oi! You!” to get someone’s attention the other side of the room.

We use our voices a lot, so when I’m without, as I am a lot at the moment thanks to a pair of vocal cords that for some reason no longer close properly – your guess is as good as the specialist at this point – I find myself baffled at the smallest tasks.

I can’t call across the office to tell someone they’ve got a call on the other line. I can’t respond to jokes the EDLO points in my direction. I can’t give the Boss Lady the quiet reassurance she needs to function – ok, she doesn’t need it, but she does seem to function better if on occasion she gets a “of course… yes… ok…”. I can’t easily pass messages on to other people. Yes, I can email/write them out, but what about when several members of the team are severely dyslexic and avoid the written word like it’s one of the biblical plagues? And what about when I want to ask my colleague who sits opposite me a question? Emailing doesn’t always get a straight response if she’s not looking at Outlook at that second and it just seems plain silly when she is sitting close enough to poke with a biro!

Don’t get me started on trying to book a hair appointment over the phone when you’re croaking like the whole cast of the Budweiser frog advert. Or how people look at you like you’re rude for not thanking them for holding lifts etc. One of the girls I work with is in a snit with me because I didn’t say hello when she popped in. I’m not rude! I just can’t talk!

I’ve had to farm off a chunk of my job (i.e., the phones) to colleagues. Thankfully everyone is very supportive and so I can do this, but it does give you a whole different appreciation to what it would be like to not interact vocally at all. I am at the point of putting a line in my email signature to the effect of “please respond via email if possible because I have no voice”

I like talking. I could gabble for Britain if you get me started on a topic I like and I’m with people I know/feel comfortable with. Having to consciously not talk is strange. I go to say something and have to stop myself because the whole “rest your voice” order from the doctor means I have to almost ration my words.

It has its good points I will admit. I’m getting more work done because I’m not answering the phones so I don’t have that constant distraction (though I almost miss not knowing what queries are flying through the ether). It is forcing me to think about what I have to say and sort my ideas out before I make a complete arse of myself. It’s given me an excuse to not engage certain people in conversation. I will admit, there are people in my day-to-day life who gabble even worse than me. They don’t find me a good conversationalist at the moment, so leave me alone. Woot!

The bit that bugs me most though? It’s very hard to flirt convincingly when you’re croaking pathetically. Not cute pathetically either, where the response elicited is “awww, come here and have a big hug and let me look after you…” No, my croak/squeak is getting me looks of “oh dear, just shoot her and put her out of her misery…”

I am lucky. My loss of voice isn’t permanent and I still have my hearing; most people who are mute are so because of hearing impairments, but it does make me doubly aware of the fact that writing really is how I connect with the world. On the internet, everyone can hear you scream.

Part of the whole “get a job in publishing” plan for 2008 is going to entail moving to a new city because, nice though it is, Southampton is seemingly devoid of decent publishing establishments – go figure. Now, scary “I’m not going to know anyone” relocation issues aside, this is really rather an exciting prospect. I never realised it about myself, but it turns out that I have a little bit of the wander-lust in me. I like to settle into a place and make it my home, but at the same time, after a few years I do tend to find myself getting a bit bored and wanting new challenges and new horizons. I expect that this is because I haven’t yet settled down into the whole career and/or stable relationship thing. But it might also be because I just like to go and explore new places.

I’ve been lucky enough in my life so far that I’ve seen more than a few cities around the world and I have noticed how every city has a feel to it, a vibe and a beat. Some cities I can be in for thirty minutes and go “I love this place”, others my immediate reaction might be loathing, or it might take me longer to grow to like. Now I am thinking about relocating away from Southampton, I am starting to think what it is that is drawing me to certain places and not to others. We live in a world where it is not inconceivable to pick up your life and start afresh in a totally different city, country, continent if you so desire, so it would make sense that I would try and narrow down the choices some to avoid making a humungous mistake!

Liverpool – Liverpool always seemed like a small city to me and not just because geographically it is. When I moved there, a ‘city’ was New York: bustling, teeming with life, chaotic, crazy and high-rise. Liverpool was low-rise, busy but run-down, rough right the way through, any glitz just a thin veneer on the top. Smokestained and totally unique, my southern country eyes just couldn’t work it out. It was the first place I had lived long-term after leaving where I’d grown up so the whole “getting to know a new city” was rather new to me. I lived there for three years and didn’t really appreciate how much fun it was till I left and moved to Southampton…

Southampton – is a very blah city. Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against it and I am enjoying living here, but it has got nothing to really recommend it either. I guess that’s the problem with being a port city: people don’t come here for the city itself, they come here to get somewhere else. I’ve had great fun since I moved here approaching four years ago, but I’m starting to get antsy. It’s not where I want to settle – I need me some bright lights!

Bristol – Now Bristol is a city that I hold with hatred and loathing in my heart. I freely admit that this is because I had my bag nicked there and spent a very miserable hour driving round it horrendously lost, and really I’m probably doing the city a great dis-service, but I’m sorry. I just don’t like Bristol.

Bath – Bath, on the other hand, is a city I adore. It’s just so pretty and so, so… So Jane Austen. With great shopping. I’m not sure I’d want to live in Bath itself but the environs are to die for. I’m a Somerset lass, always have been, always will be, and there’s just something about the landscape of the moors and the Mendips that seem right to me. If I’m being honest here, Bristol also fits into this: there’s one stretch of motorway I used to drive down every time I came back from Liverpool. You were just past Bristol, you turned the corner, and the entire valley was stretched below you. Every time I saw that view I could feel my heart lift. I saw it as was home in a way I can’t properly describe. The countryside just fits. Unbeatable.

Wells – so small you can’t really call it a ‘city’ in the modern sense, but it has a Cathedral so it is a city. (If you saw “Hot Fuzz”, then you’ll know Wells as the setting for Sandford). Wells Cathedral will always be the quintessential cathedral to me – I’ve sung along to the organ in the Choir. I celebrated Christmas services there throughout my childhood. Wells Cathedral is one of the few places on earth where I can admit to the presence of the divine. He may not be my god, but that doesn’t mean he’s not up there pulling some strings and inspiring beautiful architecture.

Cardiff – it’s been a fair while since I was in Cardiff, and then it was a flying visit for some choir or orchestra visit or something. My perceptions of the city now are pretty much totally based on the bits you see in the new Dr Who and Torchwood. It looks pretty magnificent but I’m not sure I’d want to live there. Something about it just doesn’t push my buttons.

Edinburgh – a city I remember with love and affection. The first time I remember being there was when I was 14 on a family holiday (the first summer holiday my brother didn’t come on because he was all growed-up) and I wasn’t totally 100% as I was still recovering from a fairly hefty illness nine months before, but the city grabbed me and made me feel safe. I fell in love with the history and buildings and for the first time felt a connexion to the Scots part of my heritage. There’s something quite magnificent about browsing in a store attached to a traditional woolen mill and your mum pointing out a tartan, going “that’s our tartan – I remember my grandfather wearing that…” It was also the last holiday we spent any great time with my Great Aunt (a formidable lady). After a few days in Edinburgh, we went off on a week or so of just rambling through Scotland in the car, going where the will took us and fetching up in the most amazing assortment of B&Bs and guesthouses all across the country. I loved it. The last time I was in Edinburgh, it was an archery competition and it was there I completely buggered my back, so my last memories of the city are tinged with excruciating pain, but I still love the place. I wouldn’t be surprised if my feet didn’t find their way back there someday soon.

York – is a city I’m hopefully going to reacquaint myself with very shortly. Moose tells me nice things about it, but all I can remember is going to the Jorvik Centre and stamping out a coin. That was fun.

Portsmouth – seeing as how I live in Southampton, traditionally I am supposed to be all *grr* at Pompey, but I can’t find the vitriol in my heart of those born’n’bred here. It’s got some good shopping and some pretty fantastic naval history going for it. They have a half-decent football team at the moment (a sentence that’s going to get the shit kicked out of me at work) and… Yeah, I can’t get all fussed either way. Not a place I’d want to live though. A city has to have something extra to make me want to live there and Portsmouth’s just a nice place to visit.

New York – another city I hold with great affection. I have had some great times there when I was visiting my brother but it just so totally insane. Like no other place on earth. That isn’t hype but fact. All cities and places are unique I guess but… Manhattan is just something else. There’s no way I’d willingly want to set my life up there. I expect I could hack it for a year or so and have the time of my life but, after that, I’d need to come back for a dose of British sanity!

Paris – I will admit up front that I spent all of 20 hours in Paris, and most of that at night. It was the tail-end of a school history trip to the battlefields of Europe (a rather depressing trip if you are curious) and we arrived in Paris at about three in the afternoon, going straight to our colourless hotel and late food. We then went on a trip on a Bateaux Mouche which was lovely, but bloody cold as none of us we prepared so had nothing thicker than a t-shirt between us. That took us to the evening when some bright spark said “let’s go up the Eiffel Tower!” which led to a mad race across night-time Paris, only to get to the tower in time to be told it had shut five minutes earlier. Then we wended our dejected way back to the hotel for sleep, and an early morning to catch the Eurostar back home. All in all, not the best 20 hours ever! I see Paris in the films and think “that would be lovely”, but somehow that is just overwritten with my impressions of the city as being all grey, damp and depressing.

Kota Kinabalu – it is possible to fall in love with a city but not want to go back there. K.K. is one of those places. I fell totally, head-over-heels in love with the whole of Malaysia (leeches and creepy-crawlies the size of your head not withstanding) in the month I spent there. Culture shock to 18 year old me certainly, but in a good way. However K.K. itself the first time didn’t impress. I’m guiltily still Western enough to want a bit more of a cosmopolitan flavour to my cities (hence, I guess, KL and Singapore’s place in my heart). Returning to K.K. after a week in the deepest, darkest rainforest on the other hand – I felt a genuine rush of “home” when we rolled up to our digs for the night. Still, what I feel for the place is nostalgia, not a desire to return.

Singapore – I can still remember the almost visceral feeling I had in Singapore, a feeling of “I could live here. This place I like”. I can’t place my finger on what it was about the place but I want to go back, if only to be proven wrong. Bits felt a bit false (Sentosa for example was seemed awesome till we experienced the reality the resort was mimicing) but on the whole I adored the place.

Kuala Lumpur – it was the wall of heat I walked into as we left the air-conditioned bliss ofKLIA which told me “you’re really the other side of the world” rather than the 20 hour plane trip. It came as something of a shock to me – I always thought I hated the heat but that trip to Malaysia flipped me into a sun worshipper, or at least a fan. I relished the temperature (I will admit, this was made easier by the prevalence of air conditioning!) I loved the whole place and I wish I had been able to spend longer there, but we were only there two days on our way through to Borneo.

St Peter Port – Guernsey in general was beautiful and welcoming. A lovely place to go for a holiday and it felt safe to go there on holiday on my own. I had the most amazing time and will be going back if I have any say in the matter. Would I want to live there? I’m not sure. I don’t think right now. I have a feeling that, at this point in my life, living there could get a little dull.

Toronto – a lovely city. I’m still bowled over by how bloody friendly Canadians are. Yes, it’s cliche, but it’s also true. From the moment I walked through customs (freakishly welcoming), I felt at home. Canada in general is so big and foreign enough but cut through with a reassuring streak of the European that is missing from America. In both Toronto and Kingston I felt comfortable – also very, very aware of my accent to the point I made the Cute Canadian do most of the talking because I felt so self conscious! – and I loved the blend of modern with that little bit of history. The suburbs of Toronto (Brampton in particular) sent chills down my heart because they were just to soul-less, but the city itself… If nothing else, it’s the home of the yoghurt covered pretzel, so of course I love it!

Oxford – bearing in mind the OUP, it’s not inconceivable to think I might end up in Oxford. In fact, I’ve already interviewed with them for a job a few years back (I didn’t get it because even though they knew I’d do the job really well, I lacked the experience so they gave it to someone with the paper qualifications, more fool them). Oxford is a beautiful place, full of history, but it is a university town. Friends who live there say there’s nothing much to do outside of that insular group. I’m not sure right now I want to be within such a small circle. Call me selfish but I’m still young – I want to live a little!

When I listed out the major cities I’d been to, I realised I have been blessed to travel to some pretty fantastic places with some pretty awesome people over the years. I was also struck with how they fell mainly into “places I loved visiting” and “places I want to live”. I still contend that the best way to get to know a city in a short space of time is to go there with someone who knows and loves the city to show you the best bits, but the places I have a “live here” gut reaction to are the places I’ve visited and re-visited to some respect on my own. They’ve become my cities – my cities are more than what you get in the guidebooks. They are made of memories and quirky little cafes where you can sit all day with a notebook and endless cups of coffee, writing away, that no Rough Guide would ever tell you about. My cities are admittedly small sections of the bigger city, places strung together in a sequence of experiences which owe nothing to geography and everything to how you really live in a place.

London is one of those cities. It has taken time to grow on me and what I know of it is based on aimless missions and wanderings. It being our capital an’ all, I’ve always taken it for granted. (I didn’t visit it till I was 12). At the time it didn’t do anything for me. Now though, I love it. I love the new buildings juxtaposed with the old. I love the energy – busy, but quieter than New York. Now New York (Manhattan) is a truly fabulous city but I wouldn’t want to live there, the pace is just too insane. Too weird. Great place for a holiday though. London however, I can imagine living in.

Which I guess is a good thing, considering where I want to end up.

You probably need to have been living in a cave for the past few months (or just blissfully uncaring about advances in digital technology) to not have realised that Amazon has released it’s Kindle book reader.

Enough people have shared their opinions on the matter (a select few links are at the bottom of the post) so I will save you yet another dissection of the gadget. My only Kindle-specific views are:

1. It is just so damnedly ugly
2. I love that you can connect via wireless to Amazon to get books
3. Why is it so cripplingly content locked?

Please Note: these views are based TOTALLY on other peoples reviews of the Kindle. I haven’t had the (mis)fortune to play with one myself yet. This might change. It most likely will not.

Instead I’m going to use this post to answer Jeremy’s question of what I want from an e-book reader a bit more in depth than I could in the comments.

My mobile telephony needs have once again been thrown into sharp focus after I so spectacularly flattened my last one. As I was wandering through West Quay shopping centre the other day, I pondered once again why, when I want a mobile that lets me easily browse, send emails, upload pictures, take calls, has a useable UI and looks good, I keep holding off from getting one. It might be because I am a stingy cow, and what keeps me from upgrading is the payment model. For my mobile phone I am used to paying for what I use, and that not a lot. I don’t like data plans because who the hell knows if they are going to be using 1, 2, 10, or 100000000 oogies of data transfer each month till they’ve tried it for a bit?! I am also miffed because the phone I want isn’t on the network or plan I want. Why do mobile phones have to be locked to a carrier and price-plan? For example I would be more likely to go for an iPhone if it was not tied to 18 months on O2, a carrier I have never been able to get a signal on in the areas I live, work and play. I resent paying a premium for the handset I want and I doubt I’m the only one so I have to stray into the shady world of phone-unlocking and crippled features depending on the limits of my plan. It is not a scenario I am happy with. Yes, I know I live in cloud cuckoo land where we can chomp merrily down on the cakes we also possess, but, damn it! I can’t be the only one thinking like this?

Plus, if I am being honest here, do I really need to get my emails and browse on the go? Probably not.

So how does this mobile phone rant tie into the Kindle and my ambivalence? There is a link, I promise you.

It is all to do with the content locking and the payment method. Amazon have one thing right in that you pay per download for books, instead of in advance, but my spidy senses are still tingling. What about all the text documents and free e-books I have already got stored LEGALLY on my laptop? They were free and open when I got them, which is why I have them, so why should I want to pay to read them on my Kindle? What about documents I have written myself and want to read on my own Kindle/device away from the laptop? Want to read over a draft of your own novel whilst curled up in bed? Sorry. You’ve got to pay Amazon for the privilege of getting it onto the Kindle in the first place.

And then there is the styling. Can you really imagine being comfortable pulling a Kindle out of your bag to read on the train? My Filofax gets me looks of retro admiration. My PowerBook still has its sleek titanium 12″ gorgeousness going for it. My iPod, even if it is now 4 generations of styling out of date, still looks reassuringly sexy. The Kindle? Just thinking about using it in public makes me want to curl up in a ball of my quirky aesthetic and die. So I am shallow. I am going to be paying hundreds of my hard earned cash for the privilege of totting this thing around – of course I want it to look good!

Before my rant starts to disappear up its own derrière, perhaps I should clarify what I want from my fantasy e-book reader?

Portable
This kind of goes without saying, really. By portable I mean no larger than about the size of a large paperback because that is the biggest size which is 1) easy to hold and 2) fits in my handbag. Plus, of course, it has to be slim and light. My Filofax weighs enough already and as I am still a depressingly analogue girl at heart, I suspect I am going to give it bag-room in preference to a digital gizmo any day of the week.

Scroll view OR paged view
Give me choice. Give me options.

Mac compatible!
You would think this went without saying, but it doesn’t. I have no plans or desire to ever go back to being a personal Windows user. It is not inconceivable that I might stray into Linux territory, but either way, my device is going to be supported on as many OS’s as possible.

DRM independent
I may not like it, but I accept that the e-books I buy may come laden with a form of DRM. It would be nice if they didn’t, but I live in the real world. However, my reader will be able to display all formats, both the locked, the crippled, and the gloriously free. See my afore mentioned grumble about having to pay to read my own draft writings? I don’t want that to happen.

Search
What is the point of having all that text in digital form if you cannot search it? I will not embarrass myself by admitting the number of times I have read a physical book or journal and wished for search…

Note Taking and Annotating
Scrawling notes on drafts and research papers is vital. Being able to tag notes to a particular part of a digital text? Goosebump time. A reliable tagging and bookmarking functionality are key.

Text input functionality
This is kind of necessary if it is to have that annotating functionality. I am not sure the form they input should take. My preference would be for a physical QWERTY, but I could be persuaded to adapt to an alpha-numeric keypad a la a mobile (so long as it had decent predictive text), or a handwriting interface like a Palm, or… something I haven’t thought of. Do I want to be able to write documents from scratch or just edit/tag/annotate extant ones? Now that’s a questions. If it is to be a proper mobile computing device then I need to be able to at least write emails…

WiFi
I am willing to pay for internet use on the fly but if I am in the range of my own home WiFi, let me use it and save some cash! I am not sure if I am sold with the method the Kindle uses to get content. The whole dock-with-computer-to-get-new-content ritual is familiar from the iPod, but it would be nice if my shiny e-book reader could do more than just display me some books. If it could let me browse online as well, connect to ebook stores (not just the one of course!) all the better. If it could let me ‘beam’ books and text to other people? Oooh. Depending of course on the text input functionality, if it could let me blog on the move… Well, that would eliminate the need for me to have many digital devices.

This is where my wish-list for an e-book device is blurring into my wish for a portable media platform, I will admit it.

Colour
Why do I want a colour screen when books are essentially black/white? Well, if it is going to have that lovely WiFi so I can look at things online, why am I limiting myself to just black and white? On top of that, B/W is perhaps one of the worst colour contrasts it is conceivable to have for screen reading. Right now I am writing on a screen with white text on blue – let my device have a quality screen and a customisable display. Screen reading is not the most fun experience in the world and after a while your eyes get tired. Plus, let us not forget the number of people who have visual problems. Hands up who has ever bumped the resolution up/down on their screen, flipped the colours, increased the font size? Right…

Audio
Well, digital media encompasses audio as well, so let me listen to my podcasts and audio books and music. I am not expecting the device to be able to spew out dolby digital surround sound, just a recognisable tune through some headphones.

Easy to use
Watching Curly Durly play with her Christmas TomTom I was struck with how she is just plain scared of technology. Beyond a certain level it freaks her out and she is petrified of breaking it. I fully expect this is because for the past two decades barely a day has gone by in the house without one of us yelling at a particular piece of (computing) technology that (once again) wasn’t functioning as we expected it to. Her “it’s too complicated for me to understand” mentality started as a defense mechanism but has become something of a self-fulfilling prophecy, so getting her to adopt technology is an uphill struggle. To this day she still SHOUTS in her text-messages and anything beyond the VCR defeats her, but she was getting to grips with the TomTom after just a few minutes because there was a limited range of things she could do to start with and it would take some going to f*** it up. It really was “out of the box” easy. I want my device to pass the Mum Test – I want her to pick it up, be comfortable with it, and to be reading books without having to wade through a fifty page manual first.

Looks good
I know. I know. I know. What is and isn’t good looking is highly subjective and I am no designer, but in my head my device is sleek. Elegant. Smooth edges. I have no colour preferences, nor am I a die-hard fan of the current trends for brushed metal and/or white plastic, but… It is going to have to be classy. Timeless. Something you want to pick up. Something you covet. Something that goes “I am worth the money she paid for me”, but says it in a refined manner. A top-range Tag Heuer timepiece instead of Argos-Chav-Bling.

Photos
Now I am just being silly, but I have got to be able to photo-blog from my portable media platform, haven’t I?

And there you get to the sleeping policeman in the avenue of my reasoning, because I don’t actually want an e-book reader when all is said and done. I want an all-singing, all-dancing multimedia mobile computing platform device that will let me do anything and everything, including reading e-books. And make me a decent cup of tea into the bargain. I want it to be extensible and legitimately hackable like the Chumby so I can benefit from the things other people created that I never dreamed of.

The one thing I *don’t* want is for it to be my only mobile phone. I want my phone to be, well, a phone. Something I can stick in my jeans pocket on a night out so I have something to call a taxi with and to arrange to meet up with other mates further down the evening. Something I’m not going to be out £500 when I drop it, sit on it, leave it in a taxi… I’m not saying that I don’t want my device to be able to take/make calls and route them through my bluetooth earpiece, but that’s not actually a deal-breaker.

Everything else though. That I want.

I just don’t want a Kindle because it disappoints me as I think it has disappointed other people. Frustratingly it could be so much more. But am I on the wrong track here? If this 3000 word ramble shows you nothing else, it is that even I am not sure what I want myself.

I’ve tried to put down in this post what I want from a mobile computing device and where I see mobile, ubiquitous computing going, but I am still not convinced. It is all a bit too nebulous still. Plus I am still not totally convinced that I even want an e-book reader. I love physical books too much. I had a great time over Christmas rummaging through the crates of books in the loft from my childhood. The memories they evoked were just so powerful. Can I, will I, ever feel that for a digital book? I have e-books sitting on the laptop right now but I rarely (if ever) read them. Is that because the mechanism I have for reading them (sitting at my desk) is unsatisfactory, or because I just don’t like e-books? And is a useable e-book reader, as Scoble points out if you can bear to sit through his rant (link below), not necessarily the death of physical books as doomsayers predict, but are people going to end up with a digital copy AND a physical copy? Try it in digital form for a nominal cost, enjoy it, share it with friends, buy a copy for your bookshelf to read in the bath? Instead of wanting my tea-making-device, should I be wanting an e-book reader that excels at being just that: a reader for my digital library?

I quite clearly cannot make up my own mind.

I’m going to extend Jeremy’s original question to all you lot here: What do you want from an e-book reader?

Links:

• The Kindle has landed
• Gizmodo do a good basic Q&A with the Kindle
• Is Amazon’s Kindle the ereader we’ve been waiting for
• Scoble’s rant review

Ah, there’s nothing quite like hanging a new calendar to make you reflect on the year past and the year to come, is there?

I didn’t do a “new year” post last year for some reason so I can’t look back reliably on 2007 to tell if it went as I had planned or predicted. I do know that, on the whole, it went really rather spankingly well. Technically my domestic situation (single, rented flat) is exactly the same as it was a year ago, as is my employment situation, and I still spend my leisure time in a similar way, but the little things have changed dramatically. 2007, I am confident saying, rocked.

This is the part of the movie where the villain swivels round in that big chair, stroking a fluffy Persian, reveals his cunning plan for total world domination and utters a trailer-worthy line like “no, Mr Bond, I expect you to die!”.

Followed by twenty minutes filled with explosions and implausible martial arts scenes, before our villain dies in some gruesome (but still vaguely comedic) fashion, with just enough breath left in his body to lie in the ruins of his secret volcano layer and curse something along the lines of “I’d have made it if it wasn’t for those pesky kids…” before the camera pans to the dashing hero swooping the swooning heroine off into the sunset.

Perhaps I should rethink this analogy?…

So what’s my plan for 2008?

Well, even though reading about other people’s resolutions is rather boring, and I have a whole “don’t plan because it is going to go arse-over-tit” thing, I’m going to share mine this year. Because I am nice like that and I believe in tempting fate. So in no order what-so-ever:

1. Continue the whole healthy lifestyle kick I’ve been on since September. I already feel oodles better (damn it all those I-told-you-so people will never shut up now) and am on the verge of having to buy new, smaller clothes (woot!) so it would be silly to stop now I guess. It’s just nice having muscle definition again. Plus the whole being able to go through a day without my back imploding in agony is rather pleasant
2. A new look for Bright Meadow. Yeah, I know, I’ve been saying this for so long now you’re getting bored, but it *will* happen!
3. Move to London. This will (baring the unforeseen) happen. If I’m not celebrating my birthday in London this year (or at least a city that boasts a reputable publishing house and isn’t Southampton), I will want a BLOODY good reason why not
4. Jump out of a plane. (Relax, attached to a parachute!)
5. Get a job in publishing. Again, this is a “barring acts of divine intervention” deal. At least if I haven’t landed the job by December 31st 2008, I want to be well on my way to getting it. Or have spent the past six months lying on a beach in Maui writing a best-selling novel after winning the lottery as reason why not
6. Get more of my damn writing done! I’d like to say that I’ll have a finished draft by the end of 2008, but I’m not that optimistic. I just want to have had fun writing it
7. Go on more dates. Frankly, I need to get a life. Rapidly. Before I hit 26 and end up a bitter, twisted, crazy cat lady

And that’s it. That’s my 2008 mapped out right there. Is any of it going to come true? Fingers crossed. Am I going to be upset if it doesn’t all come off according to plan? Not overly. Just so long as I have fun along the way 🙂

What have you got planned for this forthcoming year? Do share.

Wondering why I haven’t posted lately? Let me introduce you to the shattered remains of my new Razr to give you some indication of how shockingly shite my weeks have been lately.

I didn’t lay out money for it thankfully – Thanks to changing contract, the CCM had a barely used handset that needed a good home. I was fed up to the back teeth with my own phone (a Samsung D600 I never managed to love in over a year of having it. Something about the whole experience just didn’t gel) so I jumped at the chance for a new phone. Just over a week later and… splat. One misstep in a cafe et voila. It is quite impressive what the full weight of me crashing down onto my handbag can do to a phone. Thankfully the only thing dented other than the phone was my pride, so I’m able to laugh at the situation.

Laughing at the situation was much helped by my colleagues assorted reactions. “Oh, it’s a little bit demented, isn’t it?” – was the classic understatement of the century from the Boss Lady. A comment which was followed in true team fashion by the Tickle going “I’m sure we can turn it back on… where’s the battery meant to go?… This bent bit here?… You got some sellotape?… What did you DO to this thing?!… Um, yeah, I don’t think we’re going to be able to turn it back on…”

At least my reputation as the clumsiest project support this side of the Horse Head Nebula is still intact.

How does this relate to my lack of blogging? It just serves as the perfect illustration of the hectic-ness and sheer oddness of the last couple of weeks. Work has hit this “calm before the storm” patch which is freaking me out – we’ve been running on pure adrenalin for over a year now (holy crap where has the time gone?!) so this temporary slow-down to what, for everyone else, is normal working speed just completely throws the whole finely tuned machine out of synch. Yes, our normal working practices look insanely chaotic to outsiders, but they work for us! On top of that I’ve been experiencing a surfeit of festive cheer lately (I am a not-so-secret Scrooge), have the niggles of an RSI attack looming, and am just plain knackered.

All of which, you’ve guessed it, leaves me with no desire to blog.

Then people start prodding me, asking when I’m going to write next, and getting me to meet them for lunch, then texting/emailing/ringing to ask where the Roast is, and… Grrr! I know it is no excuse but I am a contrary minded cow and the more people want me to do something, the more I dig my heels, get a strop on, and resist.

So no blogging.

I fully planned to keep blogging through the festive season, but it turns out I’ve also fallen prey to the general malaise that seems to hit the Web around this time of year as everyone shuts down, goes slow, or simply goes into hermit mode and refuses to come out until 2008 is a few days old and the hang overs have worn off. That last is me by the way.

I fully intend to go into hiding, marshal my reserves, get some writing done and come back in 2008 better and brighter than ever before.

Or at least more awake and hopefully with a new mobile phone!

So have a lovely time doing whatever your religious/social/cultural inclinations would have you do. Be good to your friends and family, and I’ll leave you with some lines from one of my favourite Christmas tunes:

I wish you a hopeful Christmas
I wish you a brave New Year
All anguish pain and sadness
Leave your heart and let your road be clear

*EDIT*
Knew I would forget to say something!
I will still be twittering whilst I’m away. If you’re not already following me on Twitter (and why not), either keep an eye on twitter.com/BrightMeadow, or my tumblog which agregates everything.

Have a good holiday!