Category Archives: technology

5

Surely my overdue fines are astronomical.

When I take the time to properly organize my wallet, there is a pocket reserved solely for library cards. I have six. Granted, two thirds of them are for libraries that I would have to travel hours to reach—two of them across an ocean—but the fact remains: I love libraries. Or, I say that. I say I love libraries, and it’s a truth that I realize every time I visit one, but I can’t tell you the last time I was actually in a library.

It used to be that the local library was, for me, a necessary, once a week minimum requirement. It was always better to go on Monday or Wednesday, because then they were open until 8:00, but if you went any other weekday, they kicked you out at 6:00. I would spend my library hours scrutinizing the shelves for new arrivals, old favorites or elusive titles I hadn’t yet picked off the shelves.  Sometimes, secretly, I read picture books, because sometimes there were funny ones, but I wouldn’t dare be caught dead checking them out to take home. Back before computers were common, let alone necessary home appliances, and after our library finally got one, I spent a good half hour or so looking up things on the internet, too. I tore through the stack of books I had brought home, because I hated renewing anything—I had (okay, still kind of have) a stigma against taking too long to read anything, not that anyone but myself would ever really care.

Libraries were a huge part of my life. Though we were only ever there for two weeks at a stretch once a year, I just had to apply for a library card here (Though, II think the 2 euro renewal is long overdue…). Despite all of this, I currently live a mere three blocks (on the short ends!) from the local branch of the Brooklyn Public Library and yet I have only been inside three times in the two years that I’ve lived there. All three times were great and I checked out my usual stack of books to read, yet it would still never be a place I would think to go on a quiet afternoon. Why is that? It’s not that I have anything against libraries, and I would fight to keep them around. I briefly considered going back to school for library science and lament the lack of updates on one of my favorite columns on the McSweeney’s website.

While I’m aware that city budget cuts are affecting libraries all over, I can’t imagine that they would ever be done away with entirely. Children, surely, still visit—if only for the free computer time, but there are so many things for which libraries once were the sole providers that it worries me. No longer is it necessary to visit a library for research (and insert my pause as I remember poring over encyclopedia after encyclopedia in the tiny research room, trying to write a report on hermit crabs), back issues of periodicals can be found on the internet and used books go for a penny on Amazon. I hate to think that I am a perpetuator in the slow demise of library popularity, but it really makes me wonder. If someone like me, a girl who begged to be dropped off at the library in lieu of attending yet another baseball game can let my memberships lapse, then what does that say about their fate?

What about you? Am I just a bad example? Am I worried for nothing or have you, too, slowly turned away from a treasured public institution?

8

Just as Video Killed the Radio Star…

Yesterday I caught author and historian Simon Schama discussing his new essay collection Scribble Scribble, on WYC’s Leonard Lopate Show. During the interview, he bristled good naturedly at Lopate’s suggestion that the book, which is subtitled “Writing on Politics, Ice Cream and My Mother,” might be stream of consciousness in style, and lamented the fact that there was altogether too much of that sort of writing on line. Indeed, Schama said that blogs had “deformed” the essay into an “indiscriminate effusion of free association” predicated on the idea that if it’s interesting to me, it must be interesting to everybody. This, he said, is the absolute the opposite of the essay, which has a clear structure, “a dramaturgy” as clearly defined and carefully constructed as a great short story. Ah yes. I flashed back to my tenth grade English teacher who, on a weekly basis, would eviscerate what I thought was pretty terrific prose (Long sentences! Many adjectives! Big words galore!) until I learned to write an organized, effective essay. I can only imagine what she thinks of the blogosphere.

In any case, I’m not sure that I’d issue quite the blanket condemnation of bloggers everywhere. Given the numbers, I feel sure some are writing essays of the sort Schama might approve, but as cranky and school-marmish as Schama sounds, I could not help but agree. My inbox overflows with proposals for personal narratives that are heartfelt, horrifying and even heroic (struggles with cancer, devastating loss, political repression, etc.) but not especially well-constructed or well-suited to a broad readership. Whether this is a result of the deforming influence of the blog, I’m not sure, though blogs certainly aid and abet the notion that because every person has a story, he or she really ought to share it with the world. I do, however, realize that I am not exactly part of the solution. Much as I’d like to tut tut along with Schama, few of my own on-line ramblings on publishing would stand up to Mrs. Groveman’s red pen.

What say you? Just as video killed the radio star, has the blog killed the essay?

0

Making Books, Then and Now

Having a 2 ½-year-old son who’s fascinated by any and all things mechanical, I’ve been spending a lot of time lately watching the way things work. Construction sites, roadwork, open manholes, even trash collection have all become occasions for Henry and me to stop and observe machines doing their jobs of making things or taking them apart. And to be honest, we wouldn’t be stopping so often if I wasn’t just as interested by this stuff as Henry. Some of my most vivid childhood memories involve heavy equipment: driving the freight train at my grandfather’s scrapyard in Reading, PA; a tour of the Bethlehem Steel Factory, complete with hard hats (very official!); running pennies through the stamp machine at the U.S. Mint—all of these have stuck in my brain over the years.

Now, what does this have to do with books? Well, I found this awesome video on The Huffington Post this morning from 1947 that shows how books were made nearly 65 years ago. True, the narration is a little hokey, and it’s groan-inducing to see which roles are assigned to men and which go to the “girls.” But check out all the moving parts! Sheets of molten copper! In particular, I love the trimming device that shaves the edges off the pages—so ingenious. I just wish they told us what the finished book was!

On a more practical level, I hope that in this age of ebooks this video provides just a little more ammunition/inspiration for print lovers not to give up the fight just yet. During my editorial career, I was lucky to visit the printer/binder a few times, and each trip was a great reminder of how much work, care, and physical manipulation goes into making each and every book you hold in your hands. True, there are far fewer print-shop workers today than in 1947, and the typesetting is mostly done by computers. But the printers still have the big rollers, the sewing machines, the glue bindery, and lots of other heavy equipment, all housed in cavernous, noisy factory spaces like they were way back when.

So check out the video, or if you can, take a tour of a printer near you—better yet, take along your kids. Not only will it reaffirm the wonder and value of the printed page, but it’s a great opportunity to see some really cool machines in action!

20

Fun with QR

When I stumbled on the delightful Books2Barcodes site at Wonder Tonic, it renewed my interest in QR code.  I’ve been seeing it around, but didn’t totally understand the purpose and, having only a sad old flip phone, I’d never tried it out.  My awareness grew when a Lupe Fiasco QR code projected on a building I can see from my desk caused a bit of a stir here in Union Square, and now that there are books involved (for the first time I’ve noticed, anyway), it’s time to learn.

So I reached out to digital strategist (and friend of DGLM) Dan Scholz for some help understanding, since I’ve been hearing him talk about it for a while now.  Here’s what he told me:  QR (quick response) code is a two-dimensional barcode that’s primarily useful for dynamic and interactive event and promotions marketing.  Essentially, QR code, invented in Japan several years ago, is a specialized barcode that camera-equipped smartphones can read using barcode reader apps.  You see the code—on the side of a building, in a magazine, on the Books2Barcodes website, on a waffle—and then scan the code using your phone.  That code links to something, often a website with some kind of pre-order or sales information.  According to Dan, the audience for this has been very tech heavy for a while now, but started to reach a tipping point last fall.  The market penetration has gotten much bigger, and 2011 should be a very big year for QR code marketing.

Not having a smartphone myself, I borrowed Stacey’s yesterday to try out Books2Barcodes.  I didn’t have the greatest luck scanning off my computer, I think due to the glare on the screen, but I finally managed to scan the barcode in the page header—and lo and behold, text popped up:  “Call me Ishmael.”  I can’t imagine reading a book in 800-character fragments (which is apparently what the barcodes I couldn’t manage to scan would’ve provided), but I love the ingenuity, and the gimmick draws attention to a fun new opportunity for publishing.

So how can authors and publishers use it?  The internet is full of free QR code generators, so I googled, picked one at random, and used QuikQR to create this one:

You know you wanna scan it.

Smartphone users, why don’t you give it a shot?  (And hey, while you’re there, why not click that little like button?)  If you don’t already have a barcode scanner on your phone, there are a number of free ones to download, including RedLaser, the one I used to scan Moby Dick on Stacey’s.

So what do we think?  Passing fad or technology of the future?  Fun gimmick or serious marketing opportunity?  Have you seen publishers and authors using QR codes?  Any code generators or barcode scanners to recommend?  And what do you see as the possibilities for book promotion here?  Certainly there are some straightforward options, like directing people to Facebook, websites, pre-order links, and giveaways.  But what about something more exciting?  Dan mentioned that one of the greatest things about QR code marketing is that you can generate it for YouTube videos—when scanned, the smartphone’s YouTube app opens right up to the video in full screen with no extra clicks.  I’m not totally sold on book trailers, but I can imagine it working in this context—it’d be a really fun way to expose people to them!

10

Apps-ing

As you all know by now, we’re a forward thinking lot here at DGLM.  And, we have been especially intrigued by the possibilities that the new technologies present for our clients and their projects.  The notion of being able to help our authors develop apps based on their books or on research and other information that doesn’t make it into their books for whatever reason, but which would have value in this format and provide an additional revenue stream for them, is an exciting one.

This piece about the success of Disney’s book apps makes it clear that this particular apps market is about to explode.  The question is what category of books make for good apps?   Conventional wisdom thus far says lifestyle and how-to books, children’s books, and textbooks.  But, what would an adult fiction or narrative non-fiction app look like?  What are some of the more unorthodox uses and approaches?  My sense is that pretty much anything goes in this world.  It’s all about how to implement.

Is this something you guys have given any thought to?  Are any of you exploring this for your own work?

0

Who will we be 200 years from now?

by Rachel S.

A friend recently passed on this article printed in The New York Times last week. The headline, “Analyzing Literature by Words and Numbers,” drew me in and I was immediately curious (well, also because I thought the accompanying photograph was pretty). I have always been fascinated by words in all senses. There are words I love because of how they sound or how they look written, words I find interesting purely due to their uses in colloquial speech, and all the ways that a single word can be used to represent so many different things.

Patricia Cohen’s article sheds light on a new computer process that is able to search every single British book published in English during the so-called Victorian era (language analysis and fainting salts? I’m in). This means 1,681,161 texts were analyzed and searched for words that will supposedly shed light on the sentiments and concerns of the 19th century.

Apparently, because of the prevalence of words such as ‘hope,’ ‘light,’ and ‘sunlight,’ the Victorian era was marked by a particular optimism not present in the precedent centuries. Uncovered was the rising secular skepticism of the Enlightenment as well as an unexpected decline in a focus on the idea of evil.

Of course, since this shows only a written record for analysis, there are mistakes to be made. One scholar thought that she had made a groundbreaking discovery proving a shift in focus towards literary debates and analysis after she noted a huge jump in the words “prosody” and “syntax” in 1832. Turns out, Prosody and Syntax were popular racehorses of the day and articles were merely noting race results.

I’ve talked before about words I use too frequently in my writing and that words themselves go in and out of fashion is an indisputable fact. No doubt, this sort of technology will advance to degrees we can’t even imagine, so I’m interested in what sorts of conclusions analysts will draw about life in the 20th and 21st centuries based solely on our written work. Are we optimistic or cynical? Do we tend to focus on ourselves or others? How well do we represent ourselves on paper, anyway?