Sometime earlier in the year I took Scribd's reading app for a spin. It's often referred to as the "Netflix of books" which is more or less accurate. For 8 bucks a month you can read the entire library—something on the order of a few hundred thousand titles.
As someone who avoids bookstores because it means saying goodbye to a solid two or three hours of my life, due to my endless browsing and flipping, this was good enough for me.
Just as with Netflix, I've never understood the "it doesn't have X, Y and Z" complaints. Just enjoy it for what it is, and discover something you otherwise wouldn't have.
A month or two into my test-drive I decided to shelve my subscription. It was still too rough around the edges. The interface was clumsy, the display options too meagre, and (strangely) there was no proper pagination. Small details, but reading nerds gotta reading nerd-out.
But I desperately wanted the service to live up to itself. It was so close. So I emailed the company through it's customer service form on its website. And I laid out my nerdy demands. Then I forgot about it. I never received an email back.
A month or two after this I noticed an app update on my iPad for Scribd (I'd unsubscribed, but hadn't deleted the app).
It listed fixes and updates for (almost in order) everything I had "complained" about, everything which I'd said was needed to push the service over the edge to a slam-dunk must-have for—at the very least—myself personally.
I've been a paying subscriber ever since. This isn't a paid endorsement. There are no affiliate links in this post. It was just worth sharing. This is life in the new world of doing digital business.
And it's awesome. Period.
Photo credit: Eifion