nooked

Over the years I've gradually converted to an e-reader - usually my Nook - as a regular bedtime reading companion. It doesn't need a bedside lamp turned on, or later off, to use, and it doesn't need a bookmark. I can literally drop it as I fall asleep, assured that I can pick it up later at the same page, assuming I can find it amid the bedclothes or in whatever cranny off the side of the bed it may have fallen. And it's also useful for naps, when I'm not sure if I'll drop off to sleep or not.

Such was my goal when I picked up the Nook this last afternoon, intending to continue my new bedtime reading project, Sense and Sensibility. (I'd tackled Kim on the Nook, but had no taste to continue the book after the discussion session.) But, alas, instead of a nap and a pleasant read, I found myself in for over two hours of mostly frustrating online chat and phone colloquy with Nook support, for my book library had disappeared, replaced by an error message saying that "Nook has stopped."

Yes, I'd rebooted it. No, I hadn't changed my contact e-mail since last successfully using the Nook that morning. No, I hadn't missed a software update. I had to repeat these answers several times, at one point in the chat even copying and pasting my previous answer in the new reply box. Eventually I had to undertake a complete reset, which wiped out all my formatting customizations as well as erasing all record of anything I'd put on the machine which wasn't purchased from B&N. Fortunately I remembered what most of those wore that I wanted to keep - mostly items from the TAFF library - and was able to reacquire them.

But that's sure a way to spoil your afternoon, isn't it?