The Meaning of Reading in an Internet Age

If I were more on the ball, I would have linked to this Motoko Rich article, "Literacy Debate: Online, R U Really Reading?," from the New York Times earlier in the week. The good news is that this is apparently "the first in a series of articles that will look at how the Internet and other technological and social forces are changing the way people read." So more to come!

It's an interesting enough article that does a fine job providing the kind of surface of this debate, which they are framing as "digital versus print." The parents want the kids to read books, the kids want to spend all their time online. I appreciated the point that some kids, and even some adults, saw books as boring when you know there is a more interactive alternative, but as ever, I was troubled by the lack of control of online content.

“It takes a long time to read a 400-page book,” said Mr. Spiro of Michigan State. “In a tenth of the time,” he said, the Internet allows a reader to “cover a lot more of the topic from different points of view.”

Zachary Sims, the Old Greenwich, Conn., teenager, often stays awake until 2 or 3 in the morning reading articles about technology or politics — his current passions — on up to 100 Web sites.

“On the Internet, you can hear from a bunch of people,” said Zachary, who will attend Columbia University this fall. “They may not be pedigreed academics. They may be someone in their shed with a conspiracy theory. But you would weigh that.”

The difference between that 400 page book and a variety of websites, though, is that the book can be checked for accuracy, both in its content and in its presentation. I worry that this kid is giving equally weight to "someone in their shed" and experts. Are we really ready to dismiss credentials that easily?

Later, another teenager's habits are discussed:

When researching the 19th-century Chief Justice Roger B. Taney for one class, he typed Taney’s name into Google and scanned the Wikipedia entry and other biographical sites. Instead of reading an entire page, he would type in a search word like “college” to find Taney’s alma mater, assembling his information nugget by nugget.

Again, Wikipedia information is not always accurate. I'm not going to get too upset about the idea of piecing together information because this happened long before the internet, when people would do the same with books, but the sources are questionable, even unreliable, so the information is cheapened.

And I suppose this is what it comes down to: how much respect do people have for information if it's so readily available? It seems the value of this currency drops when it's provided by so many, some of whom may be putting out false information. Using a currency analogy also allows us to bring up the elitism of this view: am I suggesting only a privileged few should have access to and be able to provide information, to keep it's value high? I think everyone should have access, but not everyone should necessarily be providing information, or rather, we shouldn't trust anyone with information. If we don't continue to value education that turns people into experts, then we're heading into some fairly frightening uncertain times.

This article discusses testing internet navigation skills, and I can see some value in this. Kids are using it so often, why not test the skills so they do not waste time and trust bad sources of information? The Educational Testing Service developed an exam called iSkills, and of the 20,000 students who have taken it since 2006, "only 39% of four-year college freshmen achieved a score that represented 'core functional levels' in Internet literacy."

There's plenty of good crap to read online, but let's face it: 80% is personal opinion dressed as fact, or pornography. And I have no problem with opinionated writing or, for that matter, porn, but both should be enjoyed only when one knows enough to navigate them skillfully.

(I'm not sure how porn got tangled up in this point, but maybe it'll get the site more hits.)

PS - I just noticed a letter to the editor on nytimes.com from Mark Hussey, a professor of English from Pace University (whose name again calls to mind pornography), who makes this sound point:

As more and more people fail to “read,” it becomes easier for the powerful to hoodwink them because extended narratives disappear, to be replaced by the quick conclusions available in a Google search. We no longer see that we are repeating old narratives, no longer see how we got to where we are.

To engage with democratic processes — to participate in making difficult decisions or answering challenging questions (shall we go to war? whose fault is poverty?) — requires the ability to examine multiple perspectives, to hold conflicting ideas simultaneously in the mind.

That's in part what I meant to say... thanks!

Another Bullshit review

Sorry to have one on top of another, but here's my 4 sentence review of Another Bullshit Night in Suck City by Nick Flynn.

I tried this book a couple of years ago and ended up selling my copy after reading about 40 pages, but after meeting someone who worked with the author at Pine Street Inn, I gave it another shot. I'm glad I did, but Christopher rightly said that he found the narrator unreliable, and I'm afraid I found this as well. I was fascinated by the story of the author's father and his life, and I was horrified by the tragic early life of the author, but I found the author's clever asides and parenthetical allusions and occasional attempts at literary style (including a chapter in dialogue format, which I just had to skip) frustrating. He has his moments, and I particularly appreciated his handling of the inevitability of inheritance, as he comes to grip with his estranged father's delusions of being a writer as a writer himself, and it was an easy read, but it could have used perhaps one or two more edits to tighten it up, focus it, and really have it deliver, without MFA pretensions.

Outside of my 4-sentence review, let me just say how much I love the title and packaging. Fantastic!

The Beautiful Things That Heaven Bears by Dinaw Mengestu

My 4-sentence review

This novel started out a bit rocky: I was concerned the author wasn't being consistent with facts, and I thought descriptions were uneven or thin. Two things allow me to forgive this rockiness to an extent: 1) it's his first novel, and 2) the fragments come together, the slow pace evolves into a sweet story that, in fact, parallels the kind, tragic character of Sepha Stephanos, an Ethiopian refugee running a bodega in DC with little to no passion for life, a broken man, a man watching gentrification occur around him as an outsider, who lets things wash over him and convinces himself they don't impact him, and he can't impact them. This story is very current, and quiet, and gentle. I wouldn't heartily recommend it, but it is sweet, simple enough for any modern reader (16 and up maybe?) but slow enough to not please anyone looking for a fast delivery, and urban in a way you don't see as much, insofar as it's very much based in the city, the city as character, without being frenetic or fearful, without feeling the need to keep up with the pace, but just being in the moment as pieces of the past, of the terror inflicted on the character's family during the revolution (not entirely sure of the politics of all this...), of the desperation of professionals and the poor surround this man, not a hero but not a case to pity either.

Don't believe the hype

I wish this chair were cooler than it is:

When I saw it referenced, I had high hopes, but it looks terribly uncomfortable, no?

I had thought of posting today about how this WSJ article by Rebecca Smith proves capitalism's a failure (how electricity deregulation in TX, signed in by Bush as governor there, has failed miserably) and somehow relate that to publishing and books, but alas, it never happened.

So... just... gaze at this chair instead.

Soon, Christopher and I will start 4-sentence reviews of our books, as we remove them from the "Now Reading" sidebar item. I guess I'll come up with reaction to Dinaw Mengestu's The Beautiful Things That Heaven Bears soon. So there's that to look forward to.

Until then, go find a book. Happy reading!

Further proof the Cape is just that much closer to heaven

I cannot wait, cannot wait, cannot wait to go here next month: it's The Bookstore & Restaurant in Wellfleet, MA, on Cape Cod, and it looks so cool I cannot stand it. It's just what it sounds like, selling used books and breakfast, lunch, AND dinner. They also have "jazz & blues that swings!" No cover - no minimum.

I can't believe we didn't go when we were on the Cape this last weekend.

I hope this ol' codger is still there!

Did I mention that the "late night tavern" is a bomb shelter? I know, I KNOW.

And yes, that is a foosball table. Bring it.

Books in newspapers 2.0 or something?

I'm a bit behind on this, but David Mehegan of the Boston Globe posted this blog entry about Lee Abram's memo regarding books sections in newspapers. It seems Senor Abrams is formerly of XM Satellite Radio and now the "chief innovation officer" of Sam Zell's Tribune Co. Mehegan quotes the memo's section on newspaper coverage of books, so I'll copy and paste:

"Books: Heard a conversation about how Book reporting doesn't generate revenue and may have to go away. WAIT! Maybe Book reviews and coverage are one of those things that don't generate revenue right now, BUT--are trademarks for newspapers and elicit high passion from readers. At XM, we had Opera channels. Low listenership...HIGH passion...AND--it was one of those things that even if people didn't listen or even like Opera, it was one of those things you had to have for completeness. Maybe Book sections in newspapers are just dated. Not the idea...but the look and feel. Maybe they're modeled after a book store in 1967 whereas we're in the Borders, Amazon, B&N era. Maybe they are too scholarly. Maybe they avoid genres like Christian books, Celebrity books and Popular novels, opting instead for reviews of the Philippine Socialist Movement in the 1800's. The point here is maybe Book sections need to be as dramatically re-thought as Borders re-thought retail. Not dumbing down--but getting in sync with the 21st Century mainstream book reader."

Mehegan kinda dismisses this quote, but I'm not ready to entirely. It's not written by someone who reads a whole lot, obviously, but there is some idea(s) to salvage perhaps. Mehegan's right, it's not a problem of newspapers reviewing obscure books per se. But first, I like the thinking that we should retain the sections even if they're not the most popular, a la the opera stations. And book folks like us are passionate and demanding when it comes to books. And they could use a revamp oft times to be punchier and livelier and engaged. Show covers, mention publishers, and provide a short column with some insider news, why don't you, newspapers? Make it cool to like books and want to know about authors. Make authors cool.

Mehegan is right about one thing: the Borders analogy wasn't the way to go. Sorry, Abrams, but that was the wrong direction. Instead, why not think of independent bookstores that are thriving by being active, different, and knowing their local customer base? Why use nasty, oversized, underfed Borders?

Again, the main clearly doesn't read much, but maybe we could use this quote to start a more promising conversation about mainstream culture's coverage of books and publishing. Maybe.

Lazy publishing days of summer

Ain't a whole lot happening in publishing these days, except vacations. So, in lieu of me actually thinking up some idea or concept and babbling about it, please enjoy this more intelligent post over at the Reading Experience, about why experimental novels are cool and people that complain about them are maybe a little bit lame.

Happy Bastille Day!

Not revolutionary, but working in ag

By now, most of us know all about CSAs - community supported agriculture. This NY Times piece by Susan Saulny doesn't exactly provide shocking new info, but it's a nice reminder of how well CSAs are doing, how nicely they've caught on. As she reports, "There were fewer than 100 such farms in the early 1990s, but in the last several years the numbers have grown to close to 1,500, according to academic experts who have followed the trend."

Once again, though, as I read this latest report on successful CSAs, I wonder about something similar working for bookselling. There are "often prohibitive costs" associated with independent bookstores and publishers, just as there are with small farms, so couldn't this solution be brought in? And it has been, as reported on this blog and everywhere else, with subscriptions like McSweeney's Book Release Club , CSP at South End Press, and the arrangement with investors in Houston, at the Brazos Bookstore.

But has there been a successful collective bookstore that is not a radical lefty, kinda ratty, possibly scary bookstore, that is clean and well lighted and thriving? (Sorry Lucy Parsons, I still patronize you when I can!) With Boston real estate, it's unrealistic to expect in the city, but maybe in an outpost. I don't know if it can work, but it seems there could be a whole in the independent literary community that includes authors, publishers, booksellers, etc...

CSAs took some time but are really catching on, so there's some hope. If farmers can do it...

Reading Culture, Africa-style

There are a few reasons I like this story by Wanjiru Waithaka from Africa Business Daily - not a paper I read regularly, admittedly, so I'll just admit I went through a Shelf Awareness link.


First, the writing is quite straight forward and unflashy, even a bit informal in spots: "Often, the four bookshop employees had to climb a ladder in order to access books in the confined space. Forget that now. " And also, it's good and interesting news coming out of Africa that is not about political corruption, poverty, disease, etc... I know all that is real and urgent, but I also know Africa is a fascinating, exciting continent full of thriving and even prosperous cultures, so here we have a story about this private rental book library in Nairobi. (I also have become increasingly interested in Nairobi in particular due to my friend Lynsey's research and blog.)

So there's all that, but there's also the actual business itself, this Book Villa.

It's a private library, where you buy a subscription. They have different levels in which you pay more to be able to take out more books at a time - a bit like Netflix. But wait, there's more! You can also then buy a book that you love for a discount, and sell novels (fiction only it seems) back to the store. AND they serve food and have lounge areas to eat and relax and read - something I've decided will never happen in Boston except in chain stores. Thanks, real estate market.

I'm conflicted because I don't want to see libraries privatized. I love libraries, I love going to the BPL, even with all the homeless people there. I've always loved them, even the crappy one in my Texas town growing up. But I like the idea of a collective "store," where you can borrow and buy and sell, a bit like Zipcar in a way - though that place ain't without its problems, with ongoing customer service issues and, as it turns out, a growth strategy that involves overpowering smaller car-sharing services across the country, from Oakland to Philly. All the same, I think I'll read this article about Robin Chase, the founder of Zipcar, on "the economy of sharing." For a sample: Owning assets in their entirety, like an entire car or swimming pool is an excessive way to spend money. "We feel ourselves in a state of scarcity because we feel we have to own the whole asset, and 'we just want a little piece of the benefits.'"

So my curiosity is piqued by this Book Villa, as I think through ways to support books and reading in a non-profit but sustainable way. And apparently, I'm not the only one who found this story interesting...

Coming alive for literature

My apologies for not posting in nearly a month. Okay, it hasn't been *quite* that long, but it's been too long. With a new job and other personal stresses, I just haven't been able to post.

But let's move on. I wanted to link up to this Washington Post article by famed publisher Jonathan Karp, which is one of these inside-baseball publishing rants. (Hopefully you don't have to be registered to read it, though I am registered with the Post, for free, so it may be the case.) It's a good consideration of the current state of publishing, and worth a read. He's talking about all the cheap, disposable books out there - neither of those adjectives being literal. He means the celebrity bios and quickie politco books, these books that will be sitting dusty in used bookstores in about a year, marked down to a dollar. And it's not just the books that bother him, but "the underlying cynicism of the people acquiring, publishing and selling them."

But his later point really hit me. Working at a small non-profit press, I assumed we couldn't pay enough, but I hoped others were. Then I read this:

I talk to literary agents and fellow publishers, they acknowledge an unarticulated truth about our business: Fewer authors are devoting more than two years to their projects. The system demands more, faster. Conventional wisdom holds that popular novelists should deliver one or two books per year. Nonfiction authors often aren't paid enough to work full-time on a book for more than a year or two.

So no one's paying more, really, or if they are, it's only with the understanding that the author will be hyperproductive. This isn't good for the author or the reader, of course, but reading Karp's words I realized that of course it was true.

Now Karp takes the optimistic approach, envisioning a sea change in which online access helps knock the big boys in publishing down. Indie presses will have access to readers as readily as giant corporate publishers, and a lot of the old standbys, like reference, will move online, so they will be taken out of the equation. This hyper competition will raise the bar so only publishers that can deliver the very best quality literature will survive, which will push dollars back into "research and development" - which in this case, he's interpreting as money for authors to work.

Once again, though, ain't this just falling back on the ol' virtues of capitalism? Aren't we hoping a free market will lead to the best for everyone, and hasn't that failed miserably over and over, as seen in the latest mortgage crash? I don't trust the internet to be the great equalizer. And I don't trust this notion of quality literature, as if no one defines it, it's just something readers know. Karp announces with what seems to me great confidence: "The novelists who are truly novel will thrive; the rest will struggle." Spoken like one incredible editor, I suppose.

I'd rather see brand loyalty, but maybe that's my own pipe dream. I'd like to see people seek out publishers they trust, rather than getting online and saying to the market, "okay, what do you got? C'mon, publish exactly what I want and I'll throw you some pennies." (Here's where I admit my unfortunate dissatisfaction with McSweeney's Book Release Club. I mean what the f(#$ is this?!!? I hate it and don't want it in my home, so my brand enthusiasm is currently, for them, at a low.)

So yes, despite that parenthetical, I'd like to see more strategic, considerate consuming of books, not this may-the-best-man-win mentality. Because what's to stop the crap Karp complains about from being just the thing that rises to the top and drowns out the wonderful independents he praises? Why does he assume these most novel novelists will be given the credit they deserve, just because of the internet?

We need more change than that. I would have liked to see him mention independent bookstores and librarians as another level of gatekeepers, invaluable for how they steer reading. I trust these folks more than the internet machine, don't you?

Loving, second-hand style

PopMatters has started a series of essays on the wonders of used bookstores. A website after my own heart!

In this PopMatters special feature section, eight writers—each their own unique breed of book-lover—step inside the world of secondhand books and demonstrate the diversity of the experiences it contains.

Check it out as it unfolds...

Sorry this week is quiet - please stay tuned for more regular updates.

Another Sacred Cow Slayed?

Like many suburbanites, I grew up in a home with an Encyclopedia Britannica. It was a gorgeous old volume from the 1960s, most likely not containing a single independent country in Africa. I loved it. It smelled dusty, and it was in a dark brown case with a hole on top for the similarly outdated atlas, which admittedly (and unusually) I used a bit less. I think it often went missing for some reason. With four kids in the house, it could have been under a couch for a few years or something.

I got very upset with my mother when I found out she gave it away. She couldn't believe I wanted it, and I don't know that I could have actually taken it given space limitations in my various apartments in Boston over the years, but I at least wanted the chance to keep it. It was out of date, of course, but it then offered a snapshot of the world at that point in time. I often went back to the copyright page to see the year it was published, even as a kid. I loved knowing that this was the world that year, this was how it was understood.

I got additionally upset when I saw that people were making these:

How cool is that?! omg.

So now the news that the good folks at Encyclopedia Britannica are going all... wiki. I guess they resisted for some time, but eventually gave in to this culture of consumers creating, right?

I want to trust at least this is the case:

By editing all changes to its core base of information before they are posted online, Britannica, which has been online since 1994, hopes to create a trusted source that takes into account the input of the crowd. Members of the company's community of scholars and registered users will be able to post about new topics without intervention, but the company says all articles on new topics will be fact-checked and vetted before appearing in the main edition.

But like organic produce or independent bookstores, I don't know if my actions follow my beliefs as closely as they should. I'm not clamoring to buy a new set of encyclopedias, and I too use google all the time. Of course I do! But I still hope they are monitoring contributions because I maintain that we cannot let any ol' idiot make claims on anything they have an interest in. We've all been at that party when some blowhard is trying to tell you about something you know, and he's got it all wrong but he's determined to make his point. Do you want that a-hole dictating content for the Encyclopedia Brittanica?! I don't.

But I don't use it. I mean, sure, I'm not writing reports like when I used it in 7th grade, but I still would like to think I'd use it if it were in my home, I'd just flip through it. But the internet is, admittedly, so much easier. That doesn't mean I want to contribute, though, and for the record I do not use or trust Wikipedia. I guess I worry that there's nothing stable and trustworthy in this ever-shifting, ever-morphing culture.

But how much value should we place on stability? The world is changing and maybe it's conservative to try to slow it down. Again, though, I see this as a capitalist notion of he who changes fastest wins; he who allows open content most wins. "I can contribute, so I'll do that and then purchase!" Doesn't that seem like contributors are getting duped into becoming customers with a sense of false empowerment?

Super stressed about a job change, heading to these great folks, so maybe I'm just overly sensitive.... Will still keep a connection to publishing and will still keep up blog, but won't be editing day to day. Yikes!

Once again, more to come on that.

Quickie for Poetry

I enjoyed this article by Jim Dwyer in the NY Times, with the tragic news about the end of Poetry in Motion. This was a program in which poetry was put up in the New York subway system. The article is worth a read, with anecdotes about people struck by the poetry they read while staring at the posting in a subway car. My favorite passing remembrence comes from the end of the article, from Alice Quinn, the executive director of the Poetry Society:

Ms. Quinn, who was the poetry editor of The New Yorker for 20 years, recalled the thrill of introducing transit riders to “Wilderness,” a poem by Lorine Niedecker, who lived in solitude on an island in Wisconsin and had an intense but troubled elationship with a poet in New York.

“This poem is just speaking to women who have had difficult relationships and the men who understood their part in that,” Ms. Quinn said. “I watched a woman memorize it from 14th Street to 96th.”

You are the man
You are my other country
And I find it hard going
You are the prickly pear
You are the sudden violent storm
The torrent to raise the river
To float the wounded doe

Who pays the writer?

No one pays this writer, I might mention, but that ain't the point.

For some reason that's not worth going into here, I stumbled across this interesting article by Carol Guensberg from the American Journalism Review, about foundations finding more creative ways to fund journalism. As I become increasingly suspiciously of the news around issues like toxic chemicals, global warming, fossil fuels, Cuba and Venezuela, and more, I was intrigued by this development. As Guensberg reports,

Beleaguered journalists who once clung solely to the business model of paid advertising and circulation now recognize the urgency of developing new revenue sources for labor-intensive newsgathering. For some, foundations hold increasing promise as allies in meeting the public's information needs — beyond superficial headlines and celebrity sexploits — so long as there are safeguards for editorial independence.

This makes sense to me. Of course advertising dollars are going to at least give a certain direction to editorial choices. The idea of a good foundation supporting truly independent research and reporting is pretty exciting to me. ProPublica is one such organization, bankrolled comfortably by California philanthropists Herbert M. and Marion O. Sandler.

I know it's hard for small publishers to pay journalists enough money to support even a basic lifestyle long enough to write a book. This is something I've struggled to figure out as an editor coming up with the best advance I can for an author. It makes sense to find an arrangement where a foundation helps out, without dictating how the reporting should go or what the reporter can and cannot uncover. It's been done before, of course, but it should be done more.

Instead, we're often left, as readers, with whatever the corporate publishers have decided it is we want. I've become increasingly fascinated with this strange process: corporate publishers pick a title and decide it'll be a hit, so they throw tons of money at it. If it works, great, but if not, stop throwing and move on, and leave the author out to dry. It's a system wherein even books, which take so much work and so long, in the old-fashioned sense of actual time, are supposed to deliver immediately, or they miss their chance and are over. We want everyone to decide at once that this 300 page book is worth buying. Reviewers have to get it read and written about, commenters on Amazon have to digest and praise it, producers and editors have to decide the idea is original enough but not too different to alienate viewers/listeners/readers.

It sometimes seems like a big joke.

And then li'l Scotty McClellan's book hits and his publisher, PublicAffairs, actually uses Lightning Source print-on-demand for 7,000 immediate copies! I don't know why but this strikes me as amusing. I mean, what's to stop publishers from putting out fewer copies now and then waiting for the select titles to hit, and then pushing the POD button? Less risk for them, assuming the printing costs aren't too high. But that would mean authors would have less faith placed on them, and the ones that don't work as well will have fewer of their books in the world. It takes a certain amount of chance out of the equation, but it also allows us to avoid phenomenol failures, when massive numbers of a bomb sit around in bookstores across the land.

I guess I'd rather see independent publishers, which may have to be non-profit for this to work, get support so they don't have to risk as much by putting all their resources into advances. Instead, big publishers use their money but then often screw writers in the way they actually print up and distribute and publicize their titles. If Iraq isn't selling, Iraq don't get covered. I've seen this with veteran issues, a topic on which I've published, and it's maddening, but I feel helpless because I can't keep doing the books if no one's going to buy them.

As I make a career change (more to come on that), I think I may continue this non-profit/profit-in-publishing way of thinking to support writers doing good progressive work for the public interest. Watch this space!

Indiebound = Revolution!

I loved the language folks were using about the launch of Indiebound, as reported in Shelf Awareness, as reported as part of their BEA coverage.

IndieBound is not so much an updated marketing or branding campaign as "a movement, a manifesto," said ABA chief marketing office Meg Smith, who gave Shelf Awareness a sneak peek at the program two weeks ago. "We say this is a revolution consumers brought to us. We're giving it language."

American Bookseller Association CEO Avin Domnitz is quoted as saying:

"People are struggling to take back control of their lives and their communities. The big store on the highway doesn't do it anymore. What people want is good advice from people they trust. They want to stay closer to home and they're turning to people from their community. They want a local sustainable economy. And they are rediscovering what's important in their lives: local stores."

What great language indeed!

It's worth following the link to check out the site. They are trying to get actual consumers more involved than they may have been at the Booksense site. Probably a good idea - that site wasn't great for consumer use. I may have mentioned that I ended up visiting this store with my parents in Florida, which was not a good store. Actually, my dad stocked up on true crime mass markets, but I found nothing worth reading. Maybe Indiebound will provide a bit more useful information.

And for more fiery rhetoric, check out the Declaration of Indiebound, and sign on!

Indies get applause

This Publishers Weekly article by Jim Milliot is all about how much everyone, corporate publishing marketing types and all, lurves independent booksellers. Loves loves loves. If you love them, have a quick read. It's short, I promise.

I was surprised by the numbers. It opens:

Even though two recent studies have put their market share at below 10%, independent booksellers are as critical to publishers as they have ever been. In an ironic twist, the very fact that the number of independent booksellers has declined severely in the last decade makes the stores that have survived all that more important, publishers say. “Their numbers are obviously smaller, but they are a significant outlet for us,” says Matty Goldberg, v-p and group director for sales and marketing at Perseus Books Group.

10%! Good god. That's ridiculous.

I enjoyed Yankee Bookshop in Woodstock, VT, just last weekend, in fact. The state's oldest! And they are rocking a beautiful yellow color with a series of flower pots of the same color out front. I also got to pet one of the two gorgeous dogs, but don't know if it was Baxter or Zoe.

Fine, I'm listening...

So I suppose I was a skeptic of this crowdsourcing concept. I fell into the group that worried we were lowering the bar to the common denominator in place of letting the brightest amongst us speak up. The idea, for those few not in the know, is that the internet has created a networked world, so now cheap data can be found by throwing a problem out to the networked masses. The linked article by Jeff Howe from Wired uses these examples:

The open source software movement proved that a network of passionate, geeky volunteers could write code just as well as the highly paid developers at Microsoft or Sun Microsystems. Wikipedia showed that the model could be used to create a sprawling and surprisingly comprehensive online encyclopedia. And companies like eBay and MySpace have built profitable businesses that couldn’t exist without the contributions of users.

And mind you, folks, that article was from 2006. So the concept is now here and common and ready to take over the world.

But my fear has always been that you remove any credibility in this equation. I mean, why trust the masses in this way?! Are you nuts? I guess it seems like just another spin on capitalism, shrouded in technology and celebrations of the ever-trendy Geek.

Having said all that, I still found the quote from Clay Shirky in today's brief BEA report on Publishers Lunch interesting. Shirky is credited as the author of Here Comes Everybody: The Power of Organizing Without Organization. I know, I just groaned a little, BUT the man makes a good point!

To quote The Lunch:

Shirky suggests that "the critical question for the book industry is how you deal with a world in which readers can also write and share," and finding "some way to take advantage of that engagement." He wonders whether publishers can establish more subscription-like relationships with readers, whether on an imprint basis or author-by-author--observing that "effectively, Clancy and Grisham have all but subscription models today." He asked, "Is there a way to say 'trust us on this.' Can we involve the reader in a long-term process that's about some emotional connection." As he noted, "one-off transactions are incredibly expensive and they lock the reader out of any kind of conversation."

Now I've talked about publisher subscriptions on here multiple times, referencing McSweeneys Book Release Club (which I joined) and Community Supported Publishing at South End Press. And I like to pretend readers notice publishers and build trust in them, though folks like Christopher have tried to disavow me of this naive belief. But Shirky is telling publishers they might want to think this way, and get into the game.

The email right below Publishers Lunch in my inbox is from the good folks at Alternet, and the subject line is my name and followed by "Citizen Publisher." Now hear this! They are starting to publish books, which has some potential, and they have a whacky new campaign. As the email explains,

We tried something new last week. For the first time in AlterNet's history, we invited our loyal readers to join our publishing family as AlterNet Citizen Publishers. Hundreds stepped up and are now helping us publish our upcoming book, Count My Vote.

Here's how you can help publish this book: make a donation of $10 or more and you'll immediately become an AlterNet Citizen Publisher. Your name will be listed as a publisher in the book, Count My Vote (or not, if you prefer anonymity). And if you donate $40, we'll send you a copy of the new book -- hot off the presses before its public release.

This is bringing the citizen journalism movement into book publishing, and once again blurring the lines between vanity publishing and traditional publishing. It's doing what Shirky endorses, by getting people - in this case, quite literally - to invest in the company, to subscribe, to feel part of it.

This kind of excites me, makes me reconsider the concept. Part of me is still bothered by the central conceit that American consumers, just to separate out my countryfolk for a second, need to see themselves in the products they purchase and/or endorse. Of course, I immediately think of Time magazine voting it's person of the year, "You" in 2006, putting a reflective something on the cover. That was the ultimate in appealing to a customer's vanity, no?

So is Alternet doing something similar? Is the message that a person won't buy a book unless they are in it somehow?

And if so, is it a good thing because of Alternet's (and the book's) higher purpose, trying to push a progressive agenda in a way that uses solidarity?

My skepticism is mixing with optimism, but they are slugging it out. I'll have to keep following these developments.

Are we losing trained writers?

I'm all for young upstarts bursting onto the literary scene, novelists shocking us with a new perspective or non-fiction writers picking an overlooked scab to find something fascinating and unspoken and important. Okay, admittedly I'm not the one to ask about fiction - please note the "now reading" on the sidebar. Yes, I'm going through a kind of noir phase. Just finishing The Grifters and am anxiously awaiting my next visit to the library to get another Thompson book.

But still, I have to wonder where great new writers will get their training, when there is so much garbage in the way. What do I mean by garbage? Read a bit of this Sunday Times Magazine article by blogger Emily Gould and you may understand. Maybe I'm shooting myself in the foot here, people, but bloggers! Omg, bloggers. But I don't mean pinheads like me who go on here and speak about an issue - publishing, green design, fabrics for skirts, webkinz, whatever - but those who blog about themselves, their lives, their goings-on, every gory personal detail for anyone to see. Journaling, which to my mind became a verb around 1993, can be a good way to work on one's writing, that I can see. The posting, on the other hand, is a different animal.

I read the article, even though it went on and on. And Gould seems like a fine writer. She anticipates attacks, thereby in part shielding herself from criticism, but really I'm not here to condemn her personally, as others have done. (She even posts examples.) Instead, I'm criticizing the trend this article represents, which got it into the Magazine. And while I appreciate that it speaks to issues of online identities in today's world and privacy, something I find fascinating, I also fear it speaks to many members of a generation and their collective definition of a writer. A writer is one who writes.

But I have to intercede here and ask: doesn't it matter what one writes? I mean, yes I appreciate the discipline it takes to maintain a blog, even about oneself, but that's only half the battle. Take the discipline, fine, and add knowledge, research, understanding, analysis. A friend recently complained that his employees - he's very corporate and he manages others - were just giving him information right back without explaining what the data meant. They were merely descriptive. This is often the case with such bloggers. They are not just self-obsessed - the best was when my partner found a blog by someone who honest to christ reported dropping a can of veggies on his foot - but they are also simple, reporting for reporting's sake. And going from "I'm going to tell you what happened" to "I'm going to tell you how I feel about what happened" is not what I mean. Can these bloggers step back and put their experience into context?

The fact that so many cannot is particularly frustrating given the advantages of the internet. (Watch as I try to connect this point to the larger point of this blog...) The internet allows you to network, right? Great. When you write in a journal, you scribble down your thoughts about your mom, your dog, your ex-boyfriend, how annoying your homeroom teacher is, and you shut the book, maybe you share it with someone. But online, you can embed links to other sites. This ability should be used, not just to say "as I told cutiekitty29" with a link to cutiekitty29's own blog. If you are thinking about how depressed you are as a freshmen in college, google some crap and link it up! Wish you had a dog? Link it. At least if someone finds your blog and recognizes your feelings, they can click through.

So all these people talk about books turning into electronic rooms which people will enter and with which people can interact. This has some promise. But from their idealism to this reality in a generation of people so used to internet access, and I just don't know. I know it's luddite thinking to suggest that things becoming too convenient will lead to laziness, but I also worry about the next generation of writers. I worry for writing when people have 0 attention spans and are so self-obsessed.

What should I look to in hoping to assuage my fears?

I suppose MFA programs, and great literary journals, and places like Grub Street. I just want to know that people are working at their writing, and reading good writers, and learning about stuff that isn't just what's in front of them in their lives.

These bloggers got me a little de-pressed, man. Some blogs are just like horrible overheard cellphone calls typed up. What bothers me most? Some of them, due to the inherent voyeuristic thrill, are such easy reading, they go down like sugary candy. But then? You get cavities of stupidity.

Yeah, I said it. But at least my rant's done.

"Reverse gentrification of the literary world"

The publisher is Akashic Books, an independent, Brooklyn-based publisher of mostly fiction and some non-fiction, started by punk rocker Johnny Temple. I knew of Akashic of course, and really enjoyed an adorable, clever, and engaging novel they published called The Boy Detective Fails by Joe Meno. I read it over a few bus trips back and forth to NYC one August. But I learned more about this small publisher, with just four employees, because of this article by Jamilah King, over at Wiretap Magazine. It's a nice Q&A with Temple that offers a good sense of Akashic's publishing mentality.

Temple is doing just what indies do best, which he sums up well in explaining why much of their fiction comes from a dark place, so much that it becomes a common theme: "it's definitely my own aesthetic taste, and we're a company that publishes things based on an aesthetic vision, not a marketing vision. I think following marketing trends is just a soulless approach to working with art. " Hurrah! Right on. In comparing the worlds of music and literature, he later says, "there are also a lot of dynamic independent companies who pursue aesthetic visions as a counter to the bottom-line mandate." And thank god for them, right?

Since WireTap is geared toward a younger readership, I believe, King then asks if he has advice for anyone looking to get into publishing, and Temple answers very truthfully:

I would say that if your main goal is to make money and a good living, then don't come into publishing. [Laughs] It's a humbling business. People need to make a living, but it's not a place for people looking to discover the next "big hit." That goes back to the reverse gentrification motto. The publishing world is in itself a socioeconomic stratum, and some of the people don't need to be making very much money.

But we do need new life, and new blood. I encourage any motivated young person to get into publishing. I love it. I feel so lucky to do what I do, but the hope of ever making "real" money isn't realistic.

Very true. And I can say with honesty that it's a frustrating exercise in watching people who don't need to make money fill the ranks. I say that as someone who has repeatedly sought out other forms of income to make due as I work in publishing, and it's exhausting.

But that's for another post. For now, check out Akashic and pick up a book. I for one, in going through my mystery writers phase, am interested in some of the noir stuff. After my Denise Mina frenzy, with all of her smart books set in Glasgow, I love the idea of their noir series:

On the heels of the stunning success of the summer '04 award-winning bestseller Brooklyn Noir, Akashic Books launches a groundbreaking series of original noir anthologies. Each book is comprised of all-new stories, each one set in a distinct neighborhood or location within the city of the book.

I'd like to see Boston or an even more obvious candidate, Houston, but I can certainly find something in this selection I'd enjoy. You?

Buying into a Bookstore

Well this idea has reared its head before, but it looks like someone has latched onto the checks many of us received from the government to maybe, possibly... make it happen!

Stimulating Reading is the idea, from the sharp brain of one Jessica Stockton Bagnulo, keeper of the Written Nerd blog. You may remember her from such prizes as the Brooklyn Public Library prize, in which she won $15,000 to start her own bookstore. Apparently, that wasn't quite enough - which is fair.

Though the idea isn't entirely fleshed out yet, this bookseller, currently employed by McNally Robinson in NYC, wants to open an independent bookstore in Brooklyn, and now wants you to consider kicking in your recent government check to make it happen. Simple and effective! I'm most appreciative of this point, from her blog:

I don't want to twist your arm -- I'm just offering an option. And especially if you're someone who has mixed feelings about the wisdom of the stimulus rebate to strengthen the economy, this is one way to spend it more purposefully than just by, say, buying new clothes.

Well said. I don't know if this can work, but if it does, it may be a model others can follow - outside of Brooklyn, which if one reads industry blogs, websites, magazines and what-not, seems to be overrun with independent literary ventures!

(I'd like to mention quickly that the Written Nerd post also has some great links, so be sure to do some clicking while reading about this idea.)

I suppose similar things have been done, as with the Brazos Bookstore in Houston, but not on this small a level. I'll be sure to watch Stimulating Reading to see how it goes. Good luck!