Something awful happened today.
I'm so depressed I may not be able to find a way to put it into words.
Even sitting here thinking about putting it into words is making me want to cry. Well, maybe not cry. It's not bad enough for crying. I'm not even that sad. Maybe "awful" was a little dramatic.
Let me rephrase.
Something pretty bad, but not really that bad, but still bad enough to make me want to blog about it, happened today. I blog about everything so, really, you can't rate the badness of what happened solely upon my desire to blog about it. It's highly probably that my desire to blog about it comes from nothing more than boredom, which has nothing to do with said bad thing.
So, anyway, my Kindle died. And not the "charge the battery" kind of dead.
The eternal kind. Vacating this world forever. Rest in peace and godspeed.
Kindle death looks strikingly similar to iPhone screen death. Except with iPhone screen death the actual iPhone is still functional underneath its shattered and devastated shell. Not so with the Kindle.
It be dead, yo.
I won't be hosting a funeral, only because it died while I was reading a great book. Lack of funeral due to holding of grudge.
(BTW, if you like YA fiction, check out Don't Fear the Reaper by Michelle Muto. The first half is awesome, but I don't know how it ends. Thanks, Kindle.)
It got me thinking, as I sat brooding over my inability to read this fantastic book, just how difficult the search for a great book was for me.
I've bought a lot of ebooks in the past few months, mostly self-pubbed and cheap, and I've been continuously disappointed. I post about that a lot, and I kind of get scared that people will get offended by my constant complaints about the poor quality of a lot of the books being released, but I've decided I don't care. If you're going to put out crap, I'm going to bitch about it.
Anyway, I finally found one that was written well, properly formatted, and edited. It was like Christmas morning. Not to mention, the story is just so good. Creative and original, awesome characters, blah, blah, blah. I was loving it.
If you look through my Twitter feed, you'll notice that I don't usually tweet about what I'm reading. That's due to the fact that I'm not usually reading things worth tweeting about. There have only been a select few that I've enjoyed enough to take time to recommend.
(Such as: The Night Walk Men or Dark That Day, After All (Black Light of Day) by Jason McIntyre, In Memory of Greed by Al Boudreau, The Mill River Recluse by Darcie Chan... there might be a couple more, but I can't get on my Kindle and don't remember them right now. Either way, not a lot out of the ton of books I've purchased.)
I just love good books. I love to sit down and start reading and forget about the words. I love to be immersed. I love looking up only to realize an hour has passed in the blink of an eye because I was so absorbed in the story.
That's why I read.
I don't read so that I can skip over spelling mistakes or slang or awkward phrasing. That's why I haven't been reading as much lately.
Yes, I'm very picky. No, I don't think that's a bad thing. Just how I roll.
This book sucked me in and now it's gone! Swallowed up in the depths of Kindle heaven. (It's probably on Amazon and I could read it on my computer, but it's not the same.)
So, anyway, that's all. My life is over.
Not really. I think I'm going to drag my mom to the mall this weekend and get something new. A fancy touch screen one.
How technologically advanced of me.