The one idea that jumped out at me was submitted by our client Kevin Grange: “People are increasingly reading in shorter bursts on various e-devices. Should we construct stories differently? Thoughts?”

Partly, I sparked to this one because I’ve been fantasizing about which of my books I’m going to lug a physical copy of and which ones I’m going to add to my Kindle Fire.  (My grasp, as always, exceeds my reach here, folks.  I’m packing books like I’ve been sentenced to solitary confinement in Siberia instead of a week at the beach with my family.)

Despite my initial impulse to deny that my reading habits have changed at all and that, therefore, there’s any need to change the essential structure of storytelling,  Kevin’s question made me realize that I do, indeed, read in shorter bursts when using my Kindle (or any other electronic device).  In part, this is because, I don’t care what anyone says, my eyes get tired more quickly reading a screen.  Mostly, though, it has to do with the fact that Words With Friends, Ruzzle, Facebook, and the whole of the internet is also on my Kindle along with the 300 other titles and manuscripts residing therein.  So, if I hit a dull patch in my book, there’s always something else to take its place.

But does this mean that authors need to write shorter?  Shorter sentences?  Shorter paragraphs?  Shorter chapters?  Shorter books?  And is it already happening?

Thriller writers have known for years that trim chapters ending in cliffhangers build that all-important momentum, leading inexorably to the climactic scene involving a sinister villain, a put-upon hero(ine), and lots of weaponry.   But, does the fact that increasingly we’re ingesting our literature on e-readers mean that even literary fiction and nonfiction are conforming to the dictates of our ever shorter attention spans?

Instinctively, I want to say they are, but I’ve no solid data on the subject.  Basically,  I’m going to keep this in mind as I read and edit and consider new projects.  Meanwhile, I’ll just restate Kevin’s very good question here and ask what you all think.  For the writers out there, are you consciously shortening your stride when writing?  And for the readers, do you find, as I do, that you have less stickwithitness?

Garfield writes “Twenty years ago we hardly knew them, but now we all have favorites. Computers have rendered us all gods of type, a privilege we could never have anticipated in the age of the typewriter.”

Here’s a video of the author “judging some books by their covers” http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/video/2010/oct/17/typography.

Do you have a favorite font? My default is Times New Roman, but I regularly use Arial for e-mails, and I have a weakness for Sylfaen even though I think it’s a bit fey. I hate reading in Courier, such that if I am able, I will change the typeface before I read a manuscript in what I find an arid, joyless type style. (Unlike those who fetishize the Smith Corona, apparentlyI have painful memories of using an actual typewriter.)

Anyway, I probably lean more serif than sans in the most general sense, and I am prone to reading into the font choices of those who e-mail me (Aqua Palatino. Hmmm…)

How about you?

Over the years, there has been a kind of stigma attached to a book if the publisher’s plan is to issue it originally as a trade paperback. In fact, this is something I have never understood.

Sure, the royalty rate to the author is lower if it is published as a trade paperback, but if the hardcover doesn’t sell—or sells a fraction of what the trade paperback will sell—the difference between the hardcover and the trade paperback royalty rate really doesn’t matter.

And then there is the thought that trade paperbacks aren’t reviewed to the same extent hardcovers are. While this was once true, I believe this is something that is beginning to change with the rise of book blogs and online publications. Last week there was a very interesting piece in the Wall Street Journal which addresses all of this.

Interestingly, I rarely think it important that we stipulate in a contract that a book be published initially in hardcover; and that is more true today than ever before. More and more, I am finding that when the hardcover doesn’t sell up to expectations, the publisher is choosing not to do a trade paperback at all—and that really limits the book’s sales and hurts the author’s reputation overall. So, I almost always let the publisher lead the way in terms of the format they will publish a book in and when I disagree with what they want to do, I present my arguments and hope they will be heard.

One example that we at Dystel & Goderich have seen of the success of the trade paperback format after good but not spectacular sales in hardcover is Mennonite in a Little Black Dress by Rhoda Janzen, which is represented here by Michael Bourret. The trade paperback has been on the New York Times non-fiction trade paperback bestsellers list for 23 weeks and has sold over a quarter of a million copies. As a result of this, Rhoda’s next book will be far more successful in the hardcover format than this one was.

So, my advice to those authors who object to having their books initially published in trade paperback is to listen to their publisher’s reasons for doing this very carefully. Beginning in this format, which always means a lower cover price, will help increase sales and if the book is successful, the author’s name will be “out there” and a hardcover publication for subsequent books will become more likely.

Of course, I would love to hear your thoughts on this.