Kindle Publishing For Blogs
Given the subject of this blog, I think it's appropriate that you can now have new posts delivered direct to your Kindle library. Poetry After Ink is now available from the Amazon Kindle Store. The monthly price is set at £1.99. I should make it clear that I didn't choose the price; I wanted to make the blog available in a format that I believe has a lot of advantages, and I'd prefer it to be free. Amazon claim to, 'define the price based on what we deem is a fair value for customers.' In my case, I think they've been extremely generous to my witterings.
How easy is it to use Kindle Publishing For Blogs? Obscenely easy. So easy it almost feels like cheating. You have to complete two short online forms, and then wait two to three days for your blog to appear. You won't have to look at any code, and you shouldn't have to make any changes to the source material. Amazon magically distributes your new posts without you having to let it know that you've updated.
I took advantage of the 14 Day Free Trial so I could check over my blog, and make sure the words weren't scattered randomly over the screen like a concrete poem about an explosion. It looks more professional than I could have imagined; but then my blog is just text, with the occasional hyperlink thrown in for fun. Simple is what the Kindle does well; if you try to make it do too much, it starts gently weeping.
I still think this new format has a lot of potential, and could allow writers to present their work in new ways.
Imagine if, rather than releasing a long sequence of poems as an eBook, you posted one to you Kindle Blog each day. I'm not suggesting that just to be novel; I think it would reflect the way that most people consume poems in print. Ever tried to read a book of poetry by a single author in one sitting, like you would a novel? I've tried, but it's almost impossible to give each poem the attention it needs. To be honest, after reading more than about five poems by a single author in one sitting I find myself scanning them. My thought process reads, 'Something something hot day, metaphor for a bird, religious reference I don't understand, on to the next one.' That sounds awful, but if I'm able to flick between books, I find I'm much more able to appreciate the poems I read.
If more poets took on my idea, it would be like having a stack of books to dip into on your bedside table, except portable.
By Sarah Dawson