The Bookseller.com

8th January 2009

Gail Rebuck is chairman and chief executive of the Random House Group.

My Sony Reader

21.08.08

I love my Sony ebook Reader. Wafer-thin, stylish and unobtrusive, it has the power to wow the uninitiated into the world of digital books. New York editors swear by the device. It has revolutionised their lives. No more lugging three manuscripts home at the weekend – the ubiquitous Sony Reader stores them all.  In fact one publisher eulogised for a full five minutes on the transformative power of the Reader and has issued one to every editor, marketeer and publicist in his organisation, and to a large number of the sales team.  ‘So what are those manuscripts doing on your desk?’ I asked. ‘Oh, those are the ones I have to edit.’

I have not paid for, nor downloaded, a new ebook yet but no doubt I will be one of the first to do so with the UK launch.  My delight has all been professional – instantly, I can download every manuscript and read them at my leisure in a choice of three type sizes.

On a flight to Barcelona I surprised fellow passengers by laughing out loud at Jonathan Ross; on my return I was engrossed in Simon Schama’s analysis of the USA and its place in the world. A long train journey found me immersed in Ruth Rendell’s brilliant new novel Portobello and I am now reading American Wife by Curtis Sittenfeld. The experience of reading an ebook is strangely hypnotic – even the most irritating flash that accompanies each page turn (a feature of E Ink) has now become rather comforting as if, with each flash, I sink deeper into another world.  It is like the experience of swimming out to sea and looking up suddenly only to find no land in sight. Unlike the familiar feel of a book and knowing how many pages you have read, the Reader immerses you in the text with only the occasional icon signalling that you have read 634 out of 1,456 pages. Another button will electronically turn down the corner of the page so you can continue reading seamlessly. It is probably the lack of physical flexibility that contributes most to the passive, immersive experience – no rustle of pages turning, no smell, no contrast between the laminated cover and the roughness of the paper. Just the imperceptible pressure of your thumb on the ‘page turn’ icon.

In fact my husband, having observed me looking intently at my ebook for several hours, did remark that to the other passengers on the train I probably looked a little demented, staring for hours at what seemed like the same line of type.

I have only played around with the Amazon Kindle, a less attractive design but with the killer application of wireless delivery. This is a stroke of genius and turns it into what Jeff Bezos calls ‘as much a service as a device’.

To be able to wirelessly download books and newspapers is a great advantage.

But despite loving my Sony Reader, it will never be a substitute for the book – such a perfect piece of technology, sensual, shareable and irreplaceable.  When travelling the Reader is a godsend, for manuscripts it is unparalleled and will transform our lives as publishers.  But it has one problem the book will never have.  When the sun appeared briefly one Sunday, I grabbed my Sony Reader and set off to Regent’s Park. I found the perfect spot and settled down to a wonderful afternoon of reading, pressed the switch at the top of my Reader but nothing happened - blank. I had run out of power.

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