Friday Favorites: Paper and Ink

Nathan Bransford posted this week wondering why it seems that literary writers are always decrying the electronic age, and as always, he asks some really good questions, and posts some really good links. You should go to his blog here right now and check it out if you haven't seen the post already.

And as always, since I'm a wordy and also a slightly arrogant person (you might not believe me, but just ask my mom), I came up with more than would fit in a comment on his post.

So here it is:

First: Can we all stop calling print-lovers old curmudgeons? I'm only 33, and I want to make it at least into my late forties before anyone starts calling me "OLD." The argument for old-fashioned networking can't be simplified into a simple age breakdown, anyway.

There's the time it takes to learn a new thing, and to learn how to use it effectively. That's time that could (should, even!) be spent writing.

There's the fact that we all (and by "we" I mean "in the writing and publishing business," not "we literary writer folks," because I don't think of myself as an exclusively literary writer) make this distinction between "literary" and "commercial," and while the latter is OBVIOUSLY helped by having a big e-presence, there is a perception (maybe incorrect! But still there) that it's not the same for the former. In fact, I believe that one of the distinctions people draw (even if they don't want to admit it) between "literary" and "commercial" fiction is that commercial stuff sells to the masses because it's hip and cool and relevant and has a fast plot, while literary stuff sells to a few brainy people because it's intellectual, which is kind of the antithesis of Twitter. I mean, look at what they called it: Twitter. It doesn't exactly conjure up images of intellectual greatness. More like the incessant, mindless babble of people with nothing better to do than stand around on a corner and swap gossip.

(And let's remember that most literary stuff DOES NOT SELL WELL. There might be something to the argument that the point of commercial fiction is making money, while the point of literary fiction is making people think, and that's for another blog post. And it should be said that even though I think one could argue that, I don't necessarily actually believe it to be completely true.)

There's the fact that, in my own personal experience which might not be applicable to anyone else at all so please don't be offended, it took WAAAAY longer to write my literary manuscript than it took to write my commercial ones. This does not mean literary writing takes more work or is harder or anything like that. But for me, it takes more mulling. More quiet time. More playing with phrases and punctuation and the look of the page. (See the first point I made about this e-presence stuff taking a serious chunk of time to figure out and do.)

There's the fact that the whole point of browsing is to take your time over it. That's what browsing is. Scrolling through an electronic list in an e-reader kind of takes away from the experience.

There's the fact that studies are coming out showing that the act of cursive writing, old-fashioned and outdated as it is, actually helps improve information retention and language fluency. (Here, here, and here. Just Google it if you want more.) I would venture to say that the same can be said for the act of turning an actual page. Body and mind are not as separate as we like to think.

But there's also this:

When I read blogs and tweets and Google+ posts, I'm not really getting to know you. I'm only getting to know an extremely tiny piece of you. Only the teensy, weensy parts of your life that you're choosing to share in the extremely public electronic forum. And when you read this blog and follow me on Twitter and Google+, that's all you get of me: a teensy, weensy part of me. You don't really know me. I don't really know you. If we met in person, we'd be more likely to shake hands than hug. If I met an author whose posts I follow in person and went in for a hug, I'd probably be removed from the building by security.

But when I meet my writer-friends in person, we hug. We swap stories about our families that we wouldn't share in the too-public forum of the Interwebz. We can see in each other's eyes the excitement of a WiP, or the pain of another rejection or - even worse - months of silence from an editor we've queried, even though our words tell the story of the cheerful writer pulling herself up by the bootstraps and keepin' on. Our conversations last hours, instead of milliseconds, and we jump freely from topic to topic. We see in an instant clothing choices, lifestyle choices, the condition of each other's idea notebooks. I see the whole person. And they see the whole me.

I love email: without it, I'd have lost touch with my closest friends in far-flung places long, long ago. I use Twitter, although I sure don't use it effectively. I blog, obviously. I use Goodreads. My husband has an e-reader, and I've held it and turned it on and poked around.

But I'd rather read a real book than an e-book. I'd rather be writing when I have solitary time, and connecting with people in person when I can. Because no matter how good Twitter and Facebook and Google+ and Goodreads get, they will never be as good as the real thing. No matter how good e-readers get at simulating e-ink, it will never be the same as appreciating the texture of the paper and the quality of the binding. It is the reduction of a book to its content only, which for me is not what a book is. It's like looking at a print of Starry Night, instead of seeing the real thing. It's like watching a 3D movie about climbing a mountain.

No matter how good it is, it will never match up to the real thing. Not ever. It will always be less. And less is for the birds.

What do you think? Agree? Disagree? Feel free to carry on the discussion in the comments.

Friday Favorites: Blockbuster

Those of you who regularly read the blog know that I'm a TV and movie freak. I have my don't-miss, the-phone-is-off-the-hook shows, like this one: 

Castle

And of course, this one:

Grey's Anatomy

And I love movies. Especially with popcorn. So last winter, when faced with the prospect of getting to watch my choice of movie after a 20-minute walk through the snow, a search through the shelves, and another 20-minute walk back, versus joining Netflix and having unlimited access to whatever I wanted to watch from the comfort of my own home without having to go ANYWHERE in the snow, you know what I picked. Of course I joined Netflix. Who wouldn't?

But as I sifted through Netflix's offerings, I quicly realized that Netflix didn't have most of what I wanted. So, I watched some things on Netflix (like kids' TV with the kids), and I went to Blockbuster for the rest. Like my local librarians and my local bookstore proprietors, I love my local Blockbuster staff members. They know my face. More importantly, they know my tastes. I need them like I need air. I knew that even if Blockbuster didn't have what I was looking for, there would be a friendly staff member who would be more than happy to look into ordering it in for me.

Only now Blockbuster Canada has gone into receivership.

Which does not bode well for this customer.

Because when Blockbuster is gone, where will I be able to go to find those old gems that Netflix doesn't offer? My choices will be limited by a handful of nameless, faceless people who I have no relationship with and no way of reaching.

I hate that.

What does the loss of brick-and-mortar places like Blockbuster and Borders mean for you? Do you care? Why or why not?

Are Bookstores Going Bye-Bye?

One of my local indie bookstores is going out of business at the end of this month. Well, actually, it's not technically one of my local bookstores. It's a family-owned-and-run shop two towns over from where I live. But it's the closest indie to my house, so I'm claiming it. At least, until the end of the month, when it won't be there anymore.

This makes me sad.

I asked the owners what made it impossible for them to stay open, and they cited the upsurge in e-reading, as well as the opening of a big-chain bookstore in the same town. With a dwindling customer base, they just couldn't keep up with rising rent costs.

Contrast this with the picture of big-chain bookstore BORDERS' bankruptcy and we have an interesting picture. Will the big chains, now pushing out the smaller mom-and-pops in some cities while going out of business in others, last much longer anyway? Are print books going the way of the video casette tape? Will bookstores become nothing more than a shopfront where customers can leaf through sample titles before downloading e-books, while sipping lattes and letting the kids run wild in the ever-expanding toy sections? Will the indie bookstores make a comeback? Or will all those bookstores be bulldozed to make way for condos?

What do you think?

ROAD TRIP!

Happy Monday, everybody!  I hope you had a good weekend.

Mine was kind of crazy

Friday evening, I took my older one to the bookstore to meet Natale Ghent.  She was coming to the tween book club meeting that night because the kids had all read her book THE ODDS GET EVEN, which my own little odd fellow really related to.  It deals with bullying in a funny and liberating and wonderfully awesome way and you need to read it if you read middle grade at all.  (It was shortlisted for the Silver Birch Award this year, guys.  READ IT.)  And Natale was funny and warm and related SO well to the kids.  I am her newest fan, and meeting her was the highlight of my week.  And we talked BOOKS!

Then came Saturday, which was a little bit awesome - it involved seven Smart Chicks, some microphones, flying keyrings, and a few hundred people screaming and hooting.  I was one of the screaming people.  In case you haven't figured it out, I'll post pictures tomorrow that will explain everything.  But believe me when I say, it was AWESOME.  Oh, and: BOOKS.

And then yesterday, my family took a road trip to this place:

to meet this lady, who also dragged her family there on a road trip of their own.  And we had a lovely afternoon chatting about all things writing while our spouses entertained the kids.  Somewhere else.  They say it was the Children's Museum, but based on the volume of sand that came out of my littler one's shoes, I'm guessing they tried digging their own version of the Chunnel under Lake Ontario.

So, MORE awesome.  And also, MORE BOOKS!

So, yeah.  Three days, three bookstore visits, one weekend of awesomeness.  I'm wishing it were Friday all over again.

How was your weekend?

Close Encounters of the Literary Kind

I popped into my local Chapters bookstore yesterday, (that's the Canadian version of Borders or Barnes and Noble), and had the pleasure of running into Rich Meyrick, there to promote his new book JASPA'S JOURNEY: THE GREAT MIGRATION.

Rich was friendly and enthusiastic, and his book - an adventure set in the serengeti - sounds like a lot of fun for middle-grade-level readers. Apart from the obvious writer-chat (I blog! Do you? Have you been to such-and-such conference? Etc.), Rich was gracious enough to congratulate me on my recent magazine publication, and to sign my brand-spanking-new copy of his book, which I can't wait to read!

It served as a good reminder for me of how hard authors need to work to promote their books. Before I started writing, I only thought of marketing in terms of the really big-sellers, with their dolls and their movies and their posters and what-have-you. I thought marketing was something the publisher did for you. But I was wrong. Being a writer is not just about writing; it is also about self-promotion.

Thanks to Rich for helping me remember that, and more importantly:

Congratulations, Rich, on the publication of your first fiction novel. May there be many more to come!

Thanks for stopping by.

A Borders-free UK

I read on literary agent Nathan Bransford's blog last week that the death bells are ringing for Borders UK, a mega-chain of book and music stores throughout the United Kingdom akin to the Chapters/Indigo conglomerate in Canada. I've bemoaned the demise of the small bookstore in cities throughout North America - my hometown only has a Chapters, which is an embarrassment unto itself - and I can't see how any thinking person can fail to see the connection between declining numbers of bookstores and declining literacy rates. (Sure, we can still get books at Amazon, but to get to Amazon you have to load up a computer and look for it. There's nothing like a store that is right there in front of you every time you go out to shop.) But the bankruptcy of a major chain like this is something I thought I'd never live to see.

Meanwhile, my local Chapters is morphing into a children's wonderland, with almost half the store devoted to toys: plasma cars, dump trucks, puzzles, puppets, you name it. Though they claim it is an opportunity to get kids interested in going to the bookstore, I can't get rid of the nagging feeling that this blatant act of self-mutilation smacks more of desperation than innovation.

Rest In Peace, Borders UK. We'll miss you more than we'll ever know.

Thanks for stopping by.