Tag Archives: poetry

How much would you pay for a book?

How much would you pay for a book? Or, to put it another way, how much is a book worth to you?

A couple of weeks back, I was chatting to an acquaintance about books. During our conversation my acquaintance stated that many ebooks are overpriced (he mentioned that some cost £7 or more), and given the low cost of producing electronic versions they should be more reasonably priced. He also went on to state that he bought many of his books in charity shops, with many retailing for as little as £0.50.

The above conversation made me consider the question, what is a book worth? My collection of poetry “My Old Clock I Wind” retails for £2.99 (for the ebook) and £10.99 (for the paperback). Turning to a comparison with the demon drink. I enjoy a refreshing pint of Fosters. In my favourite local the price is £4, so anyone drinking there can enjoy two and a half pints of my favourite tipple at a cost of £10. Alternatively they could (with the addition of £0.99) purchase the paperback edition of “My Old Clock”, or three copies of the ebook (and still have change from a £10 note).

While beer is refreshing it is, by its nature here then gone. In contrast a book can be read many times (whether in electronic or paperback/hardback format). So, weighing my work against the cost of a pint in my favourite local, my book is, in my view value for money. In fact why not do both (I.E. purchase a copy of my book, in any format and enjoy a pint while reading it)!

The above comparison is intended to be read in a light hearted manner. There is, however a serious point to all this. Some individuals who complain about paying £10.99 for a paperback (or £7 for an ebook) will think nothing of buying several rounds of drinks on a Friday evening. Anyone who drinks in central London will know that (depending on the number of people in the round) that this can leave the person paying with a bar bill of £50, and on occasions considerably more.

All this is not to say that some books are not overpriced. I do, for example find it odd when I see ebooks costing similar amounts to their paperback/hardback alternatives. While it is right that authors and publishers need to make a living, there is much less cost entailed in producing an ebook and all things being equal ebooks should (in my opinion) reflect the lesser cost entailed in their production.

As regards books in charity shops, everyone loves a bargain and most people get a warm feeling knowing that there cheap purchase is helping to support a worthy cause. However (to state the blatantly obvious) authors and publishers could not survive where all books to be bought and sold in the second-hand market. Someone has to buy the book fresh off the press, otherwise the whole show will grind to a juddering halt!

In conclusion, books are, in the final analysis (as with any other product or service) worth whatever the purchaser is prepared to pay. A person who is caught up in the social whirl may think nothing of spending £70 or £80 on a night on the town, but ask that same person to buy a paperback for £10.99 and he protests that it is overpriced. While it is undoubtedly true that some books are overpriced, the vast majority certainly are not.

As always I would be interested in my reader’s views.

Kevin

Deathbed

Did a shadow pass
Before the glass?
Why stare?
For there is no one there.

His head
Upon the deathbed
Breathes her scent.
Should he repent
And if so, of what?

The bed is hot
Where the cold girl lay.
He finds a number
(Not her’s,
The one who is descending the stairs)
But the girl he texted yesterday.

Should he slumber
Or encumber
The bedpost with another notch,
A further blotch
On the once virgin sheet?

There was a rich young man named More

There was a rich young man named More
Who was extremely fond of the poor.
When they asked him for money
He said “the weather is sunny
And I do adore the poor!”.

Evensong

You were going to evensong.
I wanted to go along
But felt shy
To ask (I don’t know why).

An agnostic sitting in a pew
Next to you,
That wouldn’t do!
Though I know
That I wouldn’t be the first sceptic to attend
And pretend
Belief.

Our life here is brief
And religion softens grief
For the believer knows
That he goes
To a place
Where God’s grace
As sweet water does fall
On all.

In the singing of hymns
We forget our sins
And cough due to the dust
From ancient books,
While God looks
Down
With a frown
For he knows our lust …

Perhaps I will
Next time go along
To evensong
And perchance find a still
Place where God’s grace
Does fall
On all.
Though it may not be so
Nonetheless I shall go
Along
To evensong.

My Owl

I have lived in Upper Norwood since 1997. Upper Norwood is one of the greenest parts of Greater London and I am fortunate that my home overlooks an historic park. The prevalence of greenery leads to a diversity of wildlife, including foxes and owls.

From time to time an owl’s mournful cry reaches my ears. I like to think that he (or she) is the same owl. However given that I have resided in the same spot for some 20 years this is impossible.

Below is my poem “Owl

“Owl” can be found in my collection of poetry “Refractionshttps://www.amazon.com/dp/B01L5UC2H2