Cancelling Amazon Prime

I just don’t think it’s worth the cost — for me.

I joined Amazon Prime when it first started in 2005. Back then, it was $79/year and all it guaranteed was free 2-day shipping. I’m pretty sure that applied to all items on Amazon and that might be because back then when you bought from Amazon it was actually sold by Amazon and shipped by Amazon. (None of the “marketplace” crap there is today.)

Time went on. My subscription renewed annually. I lived in a little town in Arizona that had very little retail shopping other than groceries, hardware, and ranch supplies. Amazon helped me get good deals and quick delivery on the computer components, software, books, and other items I needed in my job as a freelance computer book author. I enjoyed the ability to order anything and have it shipped to me for free within two days.

Amazon added Prime video in 2011. It didn’t matter to me because I had super crappy Internet service at home and satellite TV so I didn’t need/want to stream video. Of course, that changed in 2013 when I moved to Washington State, got super fast Internet, and skipped the satellite or cable service. But I’m not big on watching TV so I really didn’t stream much on Amazon. I had Netflix. And a DVD player.

In 2014, the annual price for Prime membership increased to $99/year. They added Prime Pantry, Amazon Music, and Amazon Photos, none of which held any interest for me. Amazon Now was also added; it offered same-day shipping in metropolitan areas as far removed from my rural home as can be imagined. But Prime still seemed like a good deal for free shipping within 2 days.

Prime Day debuted in 2015. It basically conned Prime members into buying more crap they didn’t need — although I did get a smoking deal on a hybrid queen-sized mattress for my camper one year.

Prime Reading started in 2016, although I only discovered it last year. It offered a limited selection of books and magazines to read for free. I used this feature to read a few magazines I couldn’t get at the library.

When the Amazon Rewards Visa card came out in 2017, I got one. I earned points for my purchases and used those points to buy things on Amazon. No annual fee. I still have the card but I rarely use it; Chase (the bank that runs the card) has super shitty customer service so I now mostly use my Apple Card, which gives me “cash back” that I can spend anywhere. 2017’s Prime Wardrobe did not interest me in the least. And the special Prime benefits at Whole Foods were useless to me because there wasn’t a Whole Foods within 200 miles of my home.

When the Prime membership price went up to $119/year in 2018, I started wondering whether the free shipping — which was really the only feature I used regularly — was worth it. It’s around then that I started streaming video in an effort to get my money’s worth. But I didn’t stream much.

2020 and covid rolled around. All of a sudden, I wasn’t getting free 2-day shipping. I was lucky to get items I ordered within a week. It was the lockdown, of course, and I really couldn’t blame Amazon. It was temporary — or at least that’s what I thought.


Amazon will ship for free even if you aren’t a Prime member. Just buy at least $25 worth of eligible stuff.

Truth is, I haven’t gotten regular 2-day shipping on Prime items from Amazon since Covid lockdowns began. It’s been more than two years.

So this year, when Amazon announced that it was raising the price of prime membership to $149/year. I took a good, hard look at what I was getting for that. A lot of folks don’t realize it, but if you spend $25 or more on Prime eligible items, you get those items shipped for free even if you’re not a prime member. I just tested this by logging out and adding a $14.99 item to my shopping cart. See the screen grab here? Buy $10.01 more and it all ships free.

Then I started to explore my Prime membership settings. They offered this helpful graphic to show how much I used Prime features:


In 12 months, I had 80 free shipments — which I could have had without Prime membership — and watched just 14 movies or TV shows.

I concluded that Amazon Prime simply wasn’t worth $149/year to me. Frankly, it isn’t even worth $119. Maybe not even $99, unless I start watching a lot more television.

So with my membership up for renewal on March 12 at the new $149/year rate, I decided to cancel — or “pause,” which apparently removes features and stops billing but keeps my account on standby in case I want to fire it back up. Cancel is an option, too, and I suspect that I’ll use it if they start spamming me to come back.

It’s pretty obvious that Jeff Bezos — with his fancy new yacht — doesn’t need my money. And why should I spend my money on services I don’t need or use?

You can read more details about the history of Amazon Prime from 2005 to 2020 in this article.

Why I Shop on Amazon

Where else can I get exactly what I want when what I want is something weird?

If you’ve been following this blog, especially lately, you know that I’ve been doing a lot of video work. A bunch of it requires two cameras that create a pair of videos that must be synchronized. As I explain in my video about the setup, I was creating a sort of key frame for synchronization by clapping my hands between the two cameras, which face each other.

That’s not the way professionals do it. They use what’s called a clapboard. It’s the iconic black and white (usually) device that’s snapped together right after the director calls “Action!” Typically, it’s got spaces on it that are filled in with information about the scene being shot, including the date, take, and scene identifying data.

The real benefit of a clapboard is that when you snap it shut hard, it makes a sharp clapping sound. If your video clips have an audio track, this clap appears as a spike in that audio track. That makes it super easy to align the clips so both spikes appear one after the other. Perfect alignment, right up to the frame.

I decided I wanted one of these things.

Now, I live in a rural area. While Wenatchee is a nice little city nearby, it doesn’t have any shops that cater to video producers. This isn’t Los Angeles. Although we have a few video production companies in town — I’ve done some flying work for two of them — the demand for video equipment will never be enough for someone to open a shop that carries the equipment they need.

Besides, I had very specific needs. I wanted one that was small so it would fit in my video kit but not a toy or novelty item. I wanted it to work with dry-erase markers instead of chalk. I wanted it to be sturdy with a good snap.

So I did what most people in the U.S. do these days: I went to Amazon.com and searched for movie clapboard. And Amazon immediately showed me hundreds of search results.

To be fair, some of them were really off-base. A coffee mug with a movie clapboard on it. A novelty director’s party kit that included a fake Oscar, megaphone, and clapboard. A picture frame designed to look like a clapboard. Clapboard keychains. Pillow covers with a movie theme that included a clapboard.

But the vast majority of the hundreds of items listed were actual, usable movie clapboards.

I went through them. It took some time — but not nearly as much time as it would to find a brick and mortar shop that sold clapboards, get to it, make my selection (if they had what I wanted), and get home. I eventually found the one I wanted: Action Cut Board, Andoer Acrylic Clapboard Dry Erase Compact Size TV Film Movie Director Cut Action Scene Clapper Board Slate (whew!). It was $10.99 with free shipping.

I read the reviews with a grain of salt. Amazon reviews are notoriously untrustworthy. You have to read a bunch from “verified purchasers” to get a real idea of the pros and cons of the item you’re considering. Disregard the 5 star reviews that seem a bit too glowing and short on details. Disregard the 1 star reviews that seem too critical and short on details. You know the kind. The rest of the reviews were good enough. One mentioned the solid clapping sound. I think a few complained about the small size — which is actually a feature I wanted.

So I ordered it. It arrived in two days.

The clapboard really is exactly what I wanted, but I admit it did not arrive in perfect condition. Two of the nuts/bolts holding the clapboard on were a tiny bit loose; I tightened them. And the acrylic board that had been glued into a slot on the clapper part wasn’t exactly aligned. Fortunately, it also wasn’t glued in very well, which made it loose in the slot. I pulled it out and glued it back in with more glue and better alignment. What do I expect for $11, right?

Clapboard
Here I am, showing off my new little clapboard during a livestream event on YouTube.

I showed it off to my YouTube channel viewers at the beginning the AMA Livechat I did last night. I snapped it for them.

This is the kind of thing that’s impossible to find in brick and mortar shops unless you’re in a large enough city with a large enough market for a niche item like this. And that’s why I turned to Amazon. Although it’s often a pain in the butt to wade through the search results and quality is becoming a bigger issue every day as they allow more and more junk to be listed, I will almost always find exactly what I’m looking for, usually at a price that I’m willing to pay.

Self-Publishing a Paperback with Amazon KDP

Easy enough, but not ideal.

Part 107 Explained
Want to become a commercial drone pilot? Start by learning all about the FAA’s Part 107. This book will help. Buy the ebook edition on Amazon or from Apple. Or buy the paperback edition on Amazon.

Back in April, I wrote and published a short guide to FAR Part 107, which are the regulations governing commercial small UAS (drone) pilot operations. In the U.S., a pilot who wants to fly a drone for hire must get some training on these rules and then prove they know them by taking a test. If you’re not already a pilot, there’s additional certification and training that must be done. The FAA has recognized that a small UAS is an aircraft and must be regulated as such. As a helicopter pilot sharing airspace with drone pilots, I’m pretty happy about that, although I’m not happy about the folks who operate with little or no regard for the rules.

In preparing for the test and later answering people’s questions about the regulations, I looked for a guide that explained everything in plain English. When I couldn’t find one, I wrote one. It was my first book project in about four years and it wasn’t very tough for me. When it came time to publish it, I did it the easy way: I created ebook files in the correct formats and published them in the Apple bookstore and on Amazon.com.

Understand that I’m a big proponent of ebooks and very rarely buy printed books anymore. It’s a lot more convenient for me to read on my iPad and I get the added benefit of taking as many books as I want with me on trips without adding any weight to my luggage. I assumed that the folks who wanted a book like this would be on the same page as me.

But apparently that isn’t so. Lots of people seem to really like printed books, even for something as short as this one.

I normally use a print on demand publisher for my paperback book publishing needs: Lightning Source. They are affiliated with Ingram, so any book I publish using their service is automatically listed in Books in Print and appears in bookstore book catalogs, including Amazon and Barnes and Noble. The service isn’t difficult to use if you have the ability to create a PDF in the correct format. I usually write my books in InDesign, which can spit out documents in the formats I need. I fill out a few online forms, I upload the content and cover files, I pay a nominal fee, and I wait. The books are usually available within a week or so.

But yesterday, while checking the sales for the Part 107 book on Amazon, I saw a link for creating a paperback using Kindle Direct Publishing (KDP). I did some research on how it worked, what it cost, and how royalties were calculated. It seemed straightforward enough so I thought I’d give it a try. I figured that if I didn’t like the results, I could cancel publication and get the paperback printed through Lightning Source.

I spent about five hours yesterday prepping the manuscript for print publication. The trouble was, the manuscript I’d published as an ebook was absolutely filled with links to references on the web and cross-references to book content. In the ebook, you could tap a link to go right to that source — another benefit of ebooks over printed books. I had to manually convert all of the references to URLs in footnotes or page references in parentheses. I also had to remove all of the URL formatting that had been applied to link text. And because many of the URLs were really long, I had to use a URL shortener — I prefer bit.ly — to give each link a short, custom URL.

When I was done, I tried creating a PDF but didn’t like the results. I was working with Microsoft Word 2011 — I never did go to the Office 365 suite — and it doesn’t offer many options for PDF files. And, for some reason, it was spitting out a separate PDF for each section of the document. (I used sections to add custom headers for each chapter of the book.)

Since the KDP system accepted Word documents, I uploaded in that format. I then spent another half hour recreating the book cover for print.

When I was all finished, I previewed the book. That’s when I discovered that KDP had changed pagination for some reason that wasn’t immediately apparent, thus making my table of contents incorrect. Great.

I was offered the option of downloading a “corrected” Word document, so I did. When I opened it up, I discovered that the “correction” included changing the margins for the document. I knew what they said the margins should be, but I thought that was a suggestion. Apparently, it was a requirement. So I opened my “uncorrected” file, changed the margins, updated the table of contents and cross-references page numbers, and made a few other minor tweaks. Then I saved the file, uploaded it again, and previewed the results. It was fine.

Ready for Publishing
Here’s the dialog that appeared when I clicked Publish.

I clicked the buttons that needed clicking and eventually saw a dialog box telling me that my paperback had been submitted. Although one message had told me it could take 72 hours, this one said 12 hours. Whoa.

I shut down my computer for the day and went about my business. It was only 3 PM. I think I spent a total of 6 or 7 hours on the conversion process.

This morning, a little black dog who will remain nameless in this discussion decided she needed to bark at the coyotes howling off in the distance at 3:15 AM. That was all I needed to wake me up.

I lay in bed for a while with my iPad, checking weather, doing a word puzzle I do every morning, and checking in on Twitter. Then I decided to check Amazon to see if my paperback book appeared. I was very surprised to see that it did.

Book Listing
Here’s my book, all ready for purchase. I think it might be #1 in New Release and #11 in in Books > Arts & Photography > Photography & Video > Aerial because I bought two copies this morning.

Of course, I bought two copies right away: one for me and one for my friend Jim, who got me into drones. The only way I’m going to see the book is by buying it. At least I earn royalties on the purchase.

I guess what blows me away is just how quickly the book was made available. When they said 12 hours, they weren’t kidding. I used standard Prime shipping; my book will arrive Monday because today is a holiday and they don’t deliver on weekends. Still, that means they’ll print and ship the book tomorrow.

If the book looks as good as the ones I get through Lightning Source, I might have a new provider for my limited audience paperbacks. Let’s face it: Amazon sells more books than anyone else. For a book that normally would not appear in a brick and mortar bookstore, there isn’t much of a reason to get it in that Ingram catalog. And although I need to run the numbers, I suspect I might actually make more money publishing through Amazon; I’ll have to do a cost analysis to see.

As for ease of publishing, well, if you don’t try to get fancy and you use the Word template Amazon provides, it’s pretty darn easy to publish a book. So easy that I’m thinking of doing it again this month. The only thing I miss is the flexibility of getting my manuscript just the way I like it. Maybe it’s time to fire up InDesign and use that to create PDFs that KDP can’t change.

Phishing with Amazon. Again.

Yet another ploy to get you to click a link.

The latest phishing scam to hit my inbox: a message supposedly from Amazon to tell me that my order has been cancelled. Two of the four links in the message go to a site other than Amazon where a PHP page is waiting to do something nasty to my computer.

Amazon Order Cancelled?
Pointing to a link should display its URL. This message is obviously not from Amazon.

Don’t click links in incoming emails, folks!

When Readers Think Their $4 Investment in Your Book Buys You

A rant.

iBooks Author Cover
The third of three books I self-published in 2012 as an experiment. Of the three, it did best.

Yesterday, I got an email from a guy who apparently bought my 2012 book, “iBooks Author: Publishing Your First Ebook.”

This book was one of three I self-published in early 2012 and it was available in a variety of ebook formats, as well as in print. It was the first book out about iBooks Author software and sold very well for the first year or so. Then, as most computer books do, it aged and pretty much died. I lost interest in writing for a while and never bothered to revise it.

I should mention here that it was the 84th book I’d written since 1991, so it wasn’t exactly my first rodeo.

The reader — who has the word “author” in his email address — sent his first message at 3:03 PM using the contact form on this website:

Hello,
Just spoke with Apple about how and where to publish iBook Author books and discovered that they can be viewed (read) not only on the iPad, but MacBooks and Mac Desktops and the iPhone. Your statement that iBook Author books can be viewed ONLY on the iPad is incorrect;

(Apparently some “authors” don’t realize that you end a sentence with a period (full stop, if you’re in the UK) and not a semicolon.)

First, I have to admit that I was surprised that anyone was still buying a five year old computer book. Second, I was surprised that anyone who would buy a computer book that old might think it had up-to-date information in it. I don’t know what version iBooks Author is up to — I don’t use it anymore — but I have to assume it’s past version 2.0. I wrote about 1.0 and my book was available less than a month after the software was released, when the only way to read an iBooks Author book was on an iPad. (The Mac OS app came later.) I responded:

That book was written for version 1 way back in 2012. That’s FIVE years ago. Things change. The book was not updated for changes.

Maria

Was I being rude? I don’t think so. But with all the time I spend on Twitter, I can’t even tell anymore. I deal with trolls daily and I half suspected I was being trolled. So I was only partially surprised when he replied 12 minutes later with:

Poor excuses. Doesn’t give you a whole lot of credibility

What the actual fuck? Seriously? This guy buys a 5-year-old book and thinks I don’t have credibility because the book is out of date?

I started to write a nasty response but deleted it. I went with sarcasm:

Whatever you say.

Maria

Eye RollingIt doesn’t appear in the message here, but I inserted the eye rolling emoji. I like that one. It sums up my thoughts about people who complain about things that they really have no right to complain about. Or when I encounter sheer stupidity. (I rolled my eyes a lot in the last few years of my marriage. Half the time, I didn’t even realize I was doing it, but it drove my wasband crazy.) I use it a lot on Twitter.

Eleven minutes later — this guy must have been sitting at his computer waiting for me to email him — he responds with a silly threat:

Perhaps I’ll simply return the book to Amazon and complain that it’s 5 years out of date and the so-called author doesn’t care.

This really cracks me up. Does he honestly think I care if he returns the book to Amazon? If he bought the $3.99 Kindle version, I only made $2.79 on it. I can’t even buy a cup of coffee for that, so it certainly isn’t going to break me. If he bought the $14.35 print version, the joke’s on him. I self published using print on demand and my printer does not allow returns. So Amazon has to keep the book and I don’t lose a dime.

And if he does tell them he’s returning it because the author doesn’t care, they’ll likely think the same thing I think: why the hell should the author care about someone dumb enough to buy a 5-year-old computer book and expect it to be completely accurate with the current version of the software?

Again, I started writing something nasty and deleted it. Instead, I went with this:

What do you expect me to do? Write you a special copy? Get real. You bought a 5 year old computer book and you expect it to cover the current software?

Return it.

Not exactly friendly, but who cares? I don’t make my living writing computer books anymore. I don’t know too many people who do. Did he honestly think his threat would get any action out of me? What kind of an idiot is he?

Anyway, that was the last I heard from him yesterday. I thought I was done with him. But in the morning, a new nasty-gram appeared in my email inbox:

You are so very typical of the slapdash, irresponsible, third-rate scribbler who never gets it quite right, doesn’t care, makes excuses and then plays stupid. Who was to know that the book was five years old and out of date? Why didn’t you update it? I would have. Sloppy.

Book Details
“Who was to know the book was five years old and out of date?” Anyone who read the book details on Amazon. Duh.

The sheer stupidity and obnoxiousness of this troll was beyond belief. He needed to be schooled and I was ready to do the schooling.

The kid gloves came off. I responded by saying exactly what I thought:

Wow! Your level of cluelessness is amazing. I’m trying to figure out why you include the word “author” in your email address. You can’t possibly be a real author.

For your information, I have written 86 books since 1991. I’ve worked with over a dozen publishers, including Random House, McGraw Hill, and Macmillan. (Ever hear of them?) I’ve had numerous bestsellers since 1998 — enough to finance the launching of a third career as a helicopter pilot. Yeah, the red helicopter that appears on my website is actually mine. How do you think I bought that? By being a “third-rate scribbler” selling “slapdash” books?

And now a dose of reality: publishers decide whether or not to update books based on sales potential. The book you bought sold relatively well in 2012 but as additional titles covering the same topic came out on the market, I determined that potential future sales for a new edition would not be sufficient to make the project worthwhile. If you were a REAL author, you would understand this basic principle of publishing as a business. But apparently, you’re just another writer who is going to lean on self-publishing as a vanity project. While you might be able to spend all of your time writing a book that no one will buy, I have much better things to do with my time. Hence, the book was not updated and is unlikely to be updated in the future.

I’d like to add here that your attitude really sucks and that it’s a good thing you’re exploring the world of self publishing because no real publisher would work with you.

Now return the book and go bother someone else. I’m done with you.

Maria

PS: Thanks so much for participating in this exchange of emails. It’s giving me something to blog about this morning. My readers are not going to believe this shit is real.

And then I blocked his email address so I wouldn’t get any of his crap again.

I can’t wait to see what he comments on this post.