Moon Memo: The Horror and eReaders
Hello from the Foster-Powell triangle, where I am at the beginning of a 4 day weekend. I have spent too much time suffering at work to not have a long break. I just got out of the bath. I have already read most of one book, and have added another 3 to my library (more on that later). I am still naked (Sabina cheers). Tonight I will be eating tacos with my partner. Tomorrow we will be watching Godzilla with our friends. Life is relatively peaceful right now.
And yet.
The hum of disaster is in the air. We find out about mandatory layoffs next week. Everyone is treating me like I will have a job after next month, which is nice. But it also means that there could be a conspiracy to make sure I don't just quit. I don't know. Regardless, a trans woman friend of mine quit in anger, said she was tired of being yanked around by all this. We had a suicide attempt happen. It's a mess.
And yet.
Today Jade is working at the library, and a TERF group is trying to hold a meeting there, and while the crowds are showing up to talk them down, it causes so much stirring of trauma. I am a firm believer in the first amendment. It's my favorite amendment. People should get to meet in public places regardless of their beliefs, especially where government is involved. And the Library, my safest space, is government. And yet. And yet. And yet.
And yet.
Gaza is still being bombed by American bombs. Hamas hold Palestine hostage, and Israel murders children, sees all Palestinians as Hamas. This is a gross simplification. Don't email me what I should believe, unless it's a shared horror at pictures of dead children, of dead men and women and others, crying hospital workers, buildings mangled by war.
And yet.
Bodies are temperamental and glorious. Shoulder pain today. Jade's face still swollen from whatever caused the infection. My friend A recovering from her orchi, looking beatific and beautiful. The lingering whisper of a new friend meowing in my ear in the bathhouse last Saturday as I fingered her. Bodies are glorious, and scary.
Books. The tech part that I'm sure no one cares about. I have a new toy. A Boox Palma.
I've had a Kindle for about what, 8 or 9 years now? I have a thousand books in it. But it's bulky in my fanny pack. It makes it hard to want to carry it into work. So I've spent my breaks and lunches staring into my phone. I don't want to spend my breaks so connected to the world. Letting the horrors of the world infect me. I want to read. I want to read more books. I want to read long reads from magazines. I want to revel in the written word.
I also want to get away from youtube videos. Too much wasted time watching streaming. My attention is broken.
So. New fun toy. Form factor is an Android Phone. It's basically an Android phone. Except it has an e-ink screen. Doesn't have a sim card, so away from phone it can't get on the internet. I've put a kindle app, the amazing Reader app, Simple notes to take notes and write poems, a podcast app (more later), and that's it. It's a quiet device for reading. No chat apps. No internet. Nothing to distract me from reading for about 10 minutes in my beanbag at work between meetings.
Craig Mod wrote about it in his Roden newsletter (which you should read!). He's basically one of the great believers in eReaders, and he was lamenting the fact that things seem to have stagnated in Kindle land. His description of why he loves the Palma is exceptionally inspiring:
"Overall, I'm inspired and happy -- happy to have found a durable solution to a non-trivial problem: How do you engage with deeply researched, lovingly edited texts that exist mainly (if only -- increasingly only) in digital form? Personally, I cannot sustain attention on a text longer than five-hundred words on my laptop or phone. Something broke in my mind a long time ago with respect to these devices. _ When I write on my laptop, the internet is off and I'm in a full-screen mode, light text on a dark background. That keeps me grounded. But now, when I encounter a long form piece that looks fantastic, I throw it over to Reader. No longer a Graveyard of Good Intentions -- with my Palma in pocket, I plow through my queue (or "Inbox" in Reader vernacular). It's inspired me to dig through the archives of The Paris Review, load up with old author interviews. Again, unlike dumping these into my Kindle, there is no fear of "contaminating" my library view.
In the end, this all may sound silly. But I suspect the way I feel above is not unique. You, too, may have been broken by whatever chemical sorcery happens when you pick up an iPhone. And you may have been disheartened (if only subconsciously) by the state of Kindle reading. For the first time in about a decade, it feels like moats may be collapsing, and that is, indeed, an exciting thing."
There it is: I feel broken. I want to go back to reading when I'm feeling bored. I don't want to participate in the doom scroll all day. I want to be able to Just Read if I want to.
I got this thing yesterday. Set up was a breeze. Feels nice in the hand: So light. So easy to hold. I put a little elastic strap on the recommendation of a youtube video, just so I don't have to clench my hand around it. Put the apps on it, hid all the rest, put my iPhone in my office (so it wouldn't chirp at my all the messages I was missing), and laid in bed to read. Read for an hour. It was perfect. When I was ready to sleep, I put it next to me, turned on a boring technology podcast, and fell asleep.
No nightmares. Dreams of France in the 1930s, chasing a criminal with a Maigret shrug. Best sleep I've had in months.
I woke up this morning, and read for another 2 hours (I almost finished a whole Maigret mystery. I've downloaded more, plus some Agatha Christie's. I have truly become my mother). Didn't even touch my iPhone for the first two hours of the day. Wrote a poem in Simplenote. It transferred straight to my computer for edits. That's nice. Typing on it feels weird, but that's perfect. This is a reading device.
There are things I don't like. It's not waterproof, so I have to be careful in the bath. It doesn't sink perfectly with my kindle, so it can't just live in my fanny pack as the go away book of my dreams (I have to update them manually. Sigh...). The ergonomics are as bad as any other phone shaped device. It has a camera, which is fucking ridiculous (I've painted over it with white out pen). The alarm clock app is bullshit...too quiet. I slept right through it, so I'm pulling out a small separate alarm clock (I do not want my phone in my bedroom anymore. I shouldn't start my day with the horrors. I've been doing that for too long.). But overall, it's really wonderful. We'll see if I'm still thrilled by it next week.
It's the little things, friends. You need to find little pieces of joy where you can find them. Like reading books in the bathtub on a friday, playing hooky from work, on a little device that is purely a reading machine. How marvelous this disgustingly cruel life can be.
Love you all to bits. See those of you that can make it to Godzilla tomorrow night.
Love and stuff,
Misha Lynn Moon