Falling out of love with my Christmas Kindle

Finally Blogger has decided to keep me logged in, so I can comment this evening (so far only on my own blog, but I'm hopeful it will last). Here, as promised, is my Kindle post:

That honeymoon didn't last long. Don't get me wrong, I'm still fond of the Kindle's good points - particularly the germ free reading and the knowlege nobody will ever again be able to throw my entire book collection into a skip (we all know what happened, so I'm not going to keep going on about it, but there are some things a person should never forgive).

But, but, but...

As the weeks have gone on, I've identified things I'm not too happy with:

• It's awkward to hold. Several times, as I've drifed off to sleep, it's fallen and hit me in the eye. A real book has never done that.
• The Kindle is a machine. I've heard stories - horror stories - of people being left with NOTHING TO READ when their Kindles have broken down.
• Cost of books: Some of the Kindle versions can cost as much as or slightly more than the paperback version. I know there's VAT on Kindle books. But there are no printing costs, distribution costs, storage costs or costs associated with shelf space, so the old-bag-book-keeper in me thinks this is ludicrous and unfair.
• The American version, I believe, allows friends and family to borrow books. I wouldn't lend a book out illeagally, ever. But, as the technology's available, it would be nice if I could let friends borrow books from my Kindle, just as they can with my real life library.
• Worryingly, there have been reports Amazon have taken to sensoring books retrospectively. Or deleting books altogether. They've always had a good excuse, either the material is questionable or there's a query over rights. But the very fact they are able to do this worries me. This is the equivalent of them knocking at the door to demand the return of a real book - and I've never heard of that happening.
• A Kindle doesn't feel like a real book. It doesn't smell like a real book. It doesn't give me goosebumps when I pick it up, like a real book does.
• This is what's disturbed me most I think: Amazon have gone all 1984ish and are spying on our reading habits through our Kindles. When we download books, information must be fed in the opposite direction, too, because they can show me passages that other readers have highlighted. They know what I read and when - and probably use the information as a force for evil, relentlessly marketing. I'm not fond of being spied on.
• And I've been left wondering, if I download my own work onto my Kindle so I can read before submitting, will Amazon be tempted to fiddle with that? I know that makes me sound big headed - surely Amazon have much better things to do than fiddle with my WIPs. But, when I was a teenager, I asserted my individuality by wearing a variety of badges on my school blazer - one of my favourites announced:  'Just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to get me'. And it's true.

Having said all that, I think the Kindle is a great supplement to real books. I'll certainly be hanging onto mine for dear life - particularly for the convenience of having so many book in such a small space. But, if I'm considering a book that costs more than a few pounds, or a book I know is a keeper, I'll be going the real route every time.