I feel torn writing this, because we’ve had so many good times. We’ve been through so much together. I really mean that. Remember that road trip to Minneapolis, where we drove through the night, and you helped keep me awake? And those early mornings at the gym on the elliptical with the sounds of my favorite authors and stories? I will always cherish those times. I want you to know that.
But there are some things that have been bothering me for a long time. I didn’t say anything, because it didn’t seem as though there was anything that could be done to change them. After all, you’re a part of Amazon, and it wouldn’t have been fair for me to think that you could be something that you’re not. But then I found someone else, someone who shares so many of the same interests as me. Someone that fits me better than you do.
Don’t get me wrong, you’re impressive. I can buy almost anything from you guys. At first you were really into books, but then you took on the world, and it seems like that has worked out well for you. But over the years I’ve found myself wanting something more personal, like a local bookstore, instead of, say, a global mall. I mean, you have algorithms, Audible. Algorithms. I realize that is all fancy and technical, but you give me book recommendations based on a mathematics equation. Libro.fm provides recommendations from real, independent booksellers. Human beings.
And I couldn’t shake the fact that by buying from you, I’d be lining the pockets of a handful of wealthy people and stockholders who have, at the bottom line, no interest in supporting the community I live in. Where are they? Do they even read audiobooks? With Libro.fm, I’m able to buy audiobooks through my local bookstore. I’m supporting the business owned by people I actually know and care about. I love my community, and I want to support it.
Audible, it’s not you, it’s me. Like I said, I couldn’t expect you to be anything other than who you are. But Libro.fm gets me, so I’m going to have to say goodbye.