Posts Tagged ‘technology’

The iPad, Self-Publishing, and the Future of the Industry (an opinion)

Tuesday, April 6th, 2010

Okay, so I don’t usually get very controversial on this blog, but I heard a story on NPR over the weekend, and I just can’t get it out of my head. (you can listen to it here .) In a nutshell, it talked about how the iPad is the mama of all ereaders, and it will create a huge boom in self-publishing, possibly making it (self-publishing, that is) the future of the industry.

It bothered me enough that I feel the need to say publicly that while the iPad may be great, and while I’m sure the future of publishing won’t – indeed, can’t – look like the industry’s past . . . I sincerely hope that self-publishing doesn’t take over the market.

I know, I know. There are lots of reasons that self-publishing has its place. There are people – and books – who may, in fact, be better served by print-on-demand businesses. But they’re the exceptions.

No, really, they are.

One of the main reasons I feel this way was, in fact, mentioned in the NPR piece, though it was glossed over with such speed and flippancy that it made me shudder.

In the story, one of the interviewees says in the story, “if you can create a word document, you can create a book.”

*shudder* Here’s where I want to point out the difference between “can,” and “should.”

Why? Because of editors, or the lack thereof. The story mentions that one of the self-publishers will “help” authors “hook up with an editor if they need it” (emphasis mine)

Are you kidding me? Every. Single. Author. Needs. An. Editor.

No, really, they do.

And if there ever was an author so very, very good that they didn’t need one? They wouldn’t have to self-publish, because a publishing house would have already given them a contract. I know what my forthcoming book looks like in its final form . . . and I also know what it looked like when my editor acquired it. Without her input, the story wouldn’t be half as good as it is now. Writers need editors to help them see beyond the limits of the world they’ve created. We’re a myopic bunch, and we need editors to tap us on the shoulder and point out all the ways in which we aren’t letting our stories live up to their own potential.

And yes, it’s hard to hear that the thing you worked so hard on – slaving over, polishing up – isn’t as perfect as you thought it was. But after the pride-swallowing comes the relief. Relief that you have a chance to fix the weak links. Shore up the saggy parts that you didn’t notice had gone limp. Add a twist to that relationship that seemed fine but is actually – now that you see it through your editor’s eyes – a little bit flat. Self-publishing without an editor cheats the author out of an opportunity to tell their best story, and it cheats the reader out of the opportunity to get the most out of the material at hand.

Of course, there are independent editors out there who can be paid for their services. But the intimation in the story – the tone of the self-publishing genre – seems to be that, in general, the editor is just an extra step for the extra picky.

Self-publishing also – I know – looks seductively easy compared with the traditional method. It’s a near-instant gratification. The book you wrote! Available to the public! Like, now! Who needs the year-plus rigamarole of revising and waiting for notes and editing and waiting for notes and copyediting and waiting for notes and proofreading and waiting for notes and . . . yeah. It’s hard. And yeah, it takes patience. But – see above. With each of those long, painful steps, the book gets better. And the waiting times? The between-revisions times? They’re essential to getting some perspective on my own work, and most other authors I know feel the same. Without that break, it’s too hard to tear up your “baby” to rewrite it and make it better.

I know that self-publishing is here to stay, and I know that the publishing industry will have to adapt to survive in the electronic age, but the idea of literary future dominated by self-published e-books makes me cringe. I’m not the only one out there with opinions on the subject, of course. There are lots of authors talking about the publishing industry lately. If you’re interested, check out John Green’s blog at www.sparksflyup.com, or Justine Larbalestier at www.justinelarbalestier.com. (Note: they don’t *only* talk about publishing, but they often do, and a quick search will turn up the right posts.)

So, that’s my two cents on the self-publishing, e-book issue. If you think I’m a snobbish ninny, let me know why in the comments and let’s talk about it. If you agree with me, feel free to come to my defense.

If you couldn’t care less about high-falutin’ publishing industry talk, then stay tuned for my next post, in which I will discuss irrational fears and the way they linger into adulthood.

PC vs. Mac

Friday, January 22nd, 2010

So, until recently, I’ve been doing all of my writing, Internet-ting, photo-saving, etc., on a rather elderly Toshiba laptop.

4296351926_44038c624cHere is a picture of said elderly laptop.

I’ve had a string of PC-related problems in recent years, most commonly involving melted motherboards which required entire computers to be replaced. We’d bought the extended it-broke-but-it-wasn’t-my-fault-I-swear warranties, which was great because I didn’t have to buy a new computer. It was terrible because I just kept replacing broken PCs with new PCs which eventually . . . broke.

Finally I got the Toshiba, which happily puttered along past the end date of the latest warranty. Hooray! Of course, as it entered the twilight of it’s working years, things began to go wrong. The power cord got upset about being crunched up against the wall all the time and it had to be replaced.

The battery, on a full charge, lasted a maximum of 20 minutes.

It began to load, run, wake up, and/or reboot sloooooowly. There was a lot of knuckle-cracking and throat-clearing it had to get through before it was ready to do any actual work. It started to freeze up so badly that I’d just have to turn it off midtask and hope to God I’d saved my work recently.

The Blue Screen of Death (you know. . . “Beginning physical memory dump. Physical memory dump complete?” That one.) became a common sight.

In order to protect its increasingly frail workings, I bought and installed McAfee’s virus/firewall/suit-of-PC-armor software.

Oh my God.

It took over the entire life of the computer, bursting in on me at inopportune moments like some sort of deranged technological side-kick with a lazy eye and high-water pants, waving its arms and shouting about the viral armageddon which would surely befall me at any moment if I didn’t update my spam filter now, NOW! (Wow. That was a really long sentence.) Agreeing to the updates just sent Mad McAfee off into a corner to sulk over a cup of tea while it calculated the remaining upload times on some sort of antiquated abacus.

Why yes, I *did* hate that software program. What makes you ask?

ANYway. It was clearly time for a new computer. And I made the decision to go Mac.

I was a little hesitant about it. After all, I was used to Microsoft. I’ve always had PCs. They’re cheaper. I knew how to use them (at least, sufficiently for my non-tech-geek purposes.) And truth be told, I was a little concerned that I’m not actually cool enough to be a Mac person. But most of the writers I know have and love Macs, and I figured if some sort of secret send-her-over-to-HP alarm went off when I entered the Apple store, I would pull out my novelist trump card and see if they would ignore the diaper-bag and practical shoes long enough to sell me a laptop.

It worked! I fooled them into letting me have one to take home! Yay!

4296349166_897b533aceHere’s the new Mac.

I’m still getting used to it. The iWork stuff is different than Office (duh,) and I’m finding myself clicking on the little “Help” section a lot with pretty inane questions. But I love the multi-touch-mouse-pad-thingie. And I can use Scrivener now, which I’m also getting used to, but if you write books, it’s an *awesome* software program and you can try it for 30 days, free. Whether it’s really as trouble free as all the Mac-lovers out there have promised me, only time will tell. For now, though, I’m just happy to have a computer that I don’t have to conduct elaborate prayer rituals over every time I want to hit the power button.

So. I guess I’m a Mac. Just don’t tell my sensible grey wool coat, okay?