I'm charging it.
I have purchased 13 books, but haven't figured out how to download them. I can't connect the Kindle to the WiFi network until Ross comes back from yoga & grocery shopping to tell me what the password to our network is. And if there's any way to download them through my computer & its USB cable, I haven't figured it out.
So while we're all waiting for that exciting development, I will share with you the real source of my headache.
Let's start with a new Thomas Perry. I adored his Jane Whitefield stories, absolutely love them. I had thought (clearly wishful thinking) that he had a new Jane Whitefield book out, but I gather Strip does not feature her. But it still seemed like an interesting book, so . . . I take out my psychological calculator and the thought process goes a bit like this:
- Well, $12 is a lot of money, particularly as I could buy it used for $8.
- But if I bought it used, I'd have a hardcover. I really don't want a hardcover, even of a book I adore.
- But do I really want to wait until it comes out in paperback? After all, it's one of the books I had tagged as being suitable for digital downloading.
- But $12?
- Oh, for goodness sake, it's a toy. Buy something to play with on the toy.
- Oh, all right. (But I may hold this against the book you know.)
I'll let you know how that goes.
I did buy a couple books that I had tagged because they only came in digital, including Marie Force's Fatal Affair, which had been favorably reviewed in a bunch of places. I totally would have bought Carolyn Crane's Double Cross (second in her Disillusionist series) but it's not available until next week. And yes, I can pre-order it so it will magically be in my Kindle, but let's not go crazy here. I can wait until next week.
I got some free books, if only to see if I would reject them on the grounds that they're free so they can't be worth anything.
And after that -- I bought smut. Yup, smut is cheap; averaging about $3/book. I love that -- that's cheap enough that I could buy one title by each pseudonymous author (for all I know, they're all written by some sweaty guy named Ralph) and see if any of them are any good.
[Sidebar on the topic of smut. I like it. I love Emma Holly's unabashedly smutty books, for example. But it's not romance. At least I don't think so. Here's my reasoning: We can be thinking about our hearts & lives or we can be thinking about our genitals & libido, but I really don't believe we can do both at the same time.
As a result, I think a book can deliver the angsty goodness, or it can deliver the smutty goodness, but not both. I could well be unique in believing this, and lord knows I have enough quirks to rule out any chance I'm an average consumer. This is just what I think.
Of course, most romances have sex in them. We want our protagonists to be sexually compatible, if only to rule out a possible hiccup in their HEA. But when I think back over the totality of my keepers, I remember a book because of its luscious romance, or its hawt sex, but never both at once. There's a Susan Johnson -- one of the early ones, before she got difficult to read -- which I remember for the sex scenes but the romance itself was forgettable. And if I pick a book where the romance is unforgettable, I don't recall the sex particularly.
Someone said once that she didn't believe anyone who claimed to read one sex scene and skipped the rest. (I believe she felt this was up there with "the check is in the mail.") Well, I tend to, unless the sex scenes are dramatic in some way and relate back to the emotional journey for the couple.
When I think about my WIP, I'm pretty sure I could excise the sex and apart from a momentary annoyance that the hotel room door was just shut in their face -- twice -- the readers wouldn't miss it. But hey, that's just me. And this is not an area where I believe for a moment I'm right.]
Okay, Ross is home. Stay tuned for Part Two.