I admit it. I love my Amazon Kindle.

Yes, I'm anti-DRM and I've never been interested in ebooks before. I used the argument of wanting to enjoy books -- you know, books. Those things you can take into the tub or dog-ear or hand to a good friend and not be too broken-hearted if you don't get it back because you're only out five to ten bucks.

I once got in trouble with my mother for bringing too many books on vacation. I'd filled a garbage bag full of paperbacks. If I'm caught waiting somewhere without a book, I feel naked and bored. I love books.

So when I got the Kindle as an unexpected birthday present, I didn't know what to think. I tried it out and it turns out I loved it. I won't go into all the awesomeness about it, (you can read reviews here and here), as this is not a Kindle review. This is an article talking about a very unexpected problem with the Kindle.

"Ooo, you got a Kindle? Can I see it?" people ask. And I balk. You see, in my house, we have different book shelves. We try to keep the scifi together. The mystery, the horror, nonfiction, reference, graphic novels, collectibles... each genre is roughly segregated. If you were to stroll around our house looking at our books, you would see what we chose for you to see.

And because it's not really kosher to stroll around the more private areas of people's houses to look at their books, you won't see what we don't want you to see.

Yes. I like porn. Pr0n. Erotica.

I loves me a good fuck book.

Now, I'm betting most of you aren't gasping. I write for SuicideGirls, and you're reading SuicideGirls. That's why I feel comfortable telling just you. The others, they may not understand.

My daughter's best friend's father, for instance. He may not understand. But he wanted to see my Kindle too. Which means he could see all the books I have on my Kindle. I specifically showed him the ability to go to the Amazon store...which then showed him my recommendations based on what I'd purchased.

"We're recommending THIS dirty book for you because you liked THAT dirty book!"

Oops.

If you look on my device, you can see my monthly Kindle subscription to Asimov's. You can see I just bought Soon I Will Be Invincible by Austin Grossman. I am reading several books by one of my heroes, Lawrence Lessig. I'm doing research into PG Wodehouse, who was a major influence of Connie Willis, who has in turn been a huge influence of me. I have a book on quilting, in case I want to pick up that hobby. (Yeah, I read fuck books and I do crafts. I have layers.) I have books to help research my latest novel, and I have the latest novel itself in doc form.

I have John Scalzi, Tobias Buckell, Benjamin Rosenbaum, and Haruki Murakami on my Kindle. I have friends' novels on my Kindle to review and give them comments.

And yes. I have some dirty books.

If you are eager to see my new Kindle, you will learn things about me that I may not want you to know. Like I'm a fan of anthologies edited by Alison Tyler. And I like Christmas erotica.

Heck, if you know the Kindle's interface you can figure out how far along I am in my books just by glancing at my book shelf. Then you might find the embarrassing fact that I just might be farther along in some pr0n than I am in Lessig's works.

One blessing is that you can manually delete things from the Kindle, which is what I did before I showed it off to some family this past holiday season. Of course, from what I can tell, if the Kindle has room for it, it will automatically download the books you've purchased from Amazon but it doesn't detect on the Kindle anymore. I can't figure out how to stop that besides turning off the WiFi.

The thought of deleting all my erotica every time someone wants to see my Kindle seems clumsy and silly. And honestly more work than I'm willing to do. Also, it would seem awkward if I struggle with the UI every time someone just wants to see a toy that logically you should just hand over.

Should I own my interest in the books where the secretary is tied up as a Christmas present for her boss? Should I confidently hand over the Kindle when someone asks, with a, "you asked for it!" look on my face? Or should I continue to pretend to be a productive member of Puritan society? No sex books for me, thanks. Not on my shiny, ironically pure white ebook reader.

Or I could just stop reading erotica.

Naaaaaah...


Mur Lafferty is an author and podcaster who recently released her first novel, Playing For Keeps. She Speaks Geek every month on SuicideGirls.com. Click HERE for more of Mur's musings.

I’m so often feeling “Kumbaya” about the aspects of my geeky lifestyle that it hits me like a train every time two aspects don’t quite mesh. In this moment, it's my love of geeky toys vs. my card carrying EFF member's stance against DRM and other shackles on digital content.

On one hand, I love my toys. I added up how much tech I carry around with me (camera, digital recorder, Flip video cam, iPod, Blackberry…) and was a little amazed. I never thought I was a gadget-head, and I am usually one to hold back when something shiny hits the market so I can get opinions on it and allow the company to work out kinks (I’m still not sold on the iPhone). But when I do get the toys, I love them dearly.

On the other hand, I’m an avid enthusiast for open media, Creative Commons, and digital content. I love what the Internet has done for creators and the doors it’s opened for us. DRM (Digital Rights Management) is a foul word in my language, and I am very pro-sharing of content, believing the artists’ fans will give back if/when they can. (And I hope this will be proven next week as my book Playing For Keeps will be released via free PDF and a print version on Amazon.com.)

I didn’t think these two things could butt heads, but I was wrong. I discovered this when my mother bought me an Amazon Kindle for my birthday.

Now, I’d heard that the Kindle was pure evil in a tapered, white tablet. It has DRM on the files, it won’t let you share, it’s unmodifiable (one of the requirements of DRM is you have to keep the device pure, else people can modify it to unlock said content), it won’t support simple PDFs. It is too expensive and it eats babies.

I’d also heard that the Kindle was going to be the ebook reader to end all readers. Its wireless capability would allow for amazing versatility in regards to purchasing books, emailing files to the Kindle, even listening to music while you read. The screen is ePaper, as readable as regular paper (no glare, no backlight), and buying content is so simple I would see my kid’s college money draining away.

So my Kindle in hand, I contacted a friend who’s a staunch anti-DRM advocate. I asked him, “My mom bought me a Kindle for my birthday. What’s an anti-DRM woman to do?”

His advice was to sell it and buy a Palm.

Possibly good advice if I’d won it, but considering my own mother gave it to me, I feel it’s rude to treat it like a big Amazon gift certificate. And besides. It’s shiny.

I was delighted to find that the Kindle was inspired in part by one of my favorite books, The Diamond Age by Neal Stephenson, which centers around an interactive smart book that falls into the hands of a little poor girl and is instrumental in raising her.

I spent a lot of time exploring the capabilities of the Kindle, from the basic browser (I can log into Twitter, but can’t seem to actually tweet from it) to putting music on it to testing out the various PDF conversions. Lack of PDF support was one of the biggest issues with the release of the Kindle, but the conversion support that allows you to email DOC and TXT files to your Kindle (among others) seems to work with PDF now. At least, I was able to get a PDF on my Kindle with no problems. (I also checked out the program Stanza, which also converted it to a Kindle-friendly format, but removed the paragraph breaks of my books, which would get rather annoying. For windows users I believe the MOBIpocket program works for conversion. But try just emailing a PDF first and see how that does.)

But damn. It’s shiny. It looks good. The instant gratification factor is high. The thought of putting all my ebooks that I didn’t want to read on my computer makes me giddy. I am not on board with paying for otherwise free blogs, but I did get a subscription to Asimov’s and was thrilled when the August and September issues landed on my Kindle. I’d like to have the cover art of the magazine, but that’s a minor quibble. And the deal is, honestly, I can see a lot of room for improvement. I mean that in the best way; the problems are clear and look like they can be fixed in the next generation - no page numbers is puzzling, some people dislike the blink in the page that comes before a new page loads, etc. But damn, a Kindle with these minor problems fixed would be formidable.

But the big problem still exists: I can’t stand DRM. It’s a principle thing. I’m not fuming at being unable to send the file to all my buddies, I’m annoyed at the assumption that I’m a criminal and would do so if they didn’t stop me. Also, I’ve purchased this content, but I can only read it on my Kindle. If I drop my Kindle and break it, too bad! I have to buy another Kindle to keep reading. I don’t like not having access to content I pay for.

And as a creator, DRM offends me. It feels vaguely unsettling to have this device (shiny!) and enjoy it a lot (so shiny!) and yet when I consider my book coming out in a couple of weeks, I don’t want it to be available for the Kindle. I don’t want my content crippled by DRM; if people want to download my PDF and put it on their Kindle, rock on with their bad selves. But I want them to have the same control over the content they pay for that I demand from the content I purchase.

Thus, even as I squee and dance around with my shiny toy, this small, gnawing sense of hypocrisy is always there. I’ll read others’ DRM protected work, but won’t do the same for my own. I am considering how to deal with this, but I haven’t reached a conclusion yet. As far as I know, my publisher doesn’t release Kindle editions yet, which I know is just a cop-out for me, but this is a bridge I must cross eventually.

So make it easy on a conflicted geek with principles and a shiny toy, Amazon. Kill the DRM. Then I can happily squee, put my books on your Kindle, and when the second gen comes out, maybe I’ll even buy one myself. OK?

(It’s so shiny!)

Mur Lafferty is a writer and podcaster from Durham, NC. Her first book, Playing For Keeps, will be released in print August 25 - there are no plans for a Kindle edition.