Historian. Author. Ranter. Idea Junkie.
This a blog. Sort of. I rarely use it anymore.
Leave it to the Times to suddenly discover the world of self-publishing (although this is actually a pretty good round-up of the current state of affairs in this matter). As David said in a comment on an earlier post): "Look for them to re-discover the internet in the coming months."
. . . and the whole ball of wax. I'm probably driving half of you nuts -- but.... What can I say? I'm a writer, so I think about this stuff.
"Media" as we know it is undergoing a profound shift and it's fascinating to live through the experience. Painful, but fascinating.
Eg, as I may have mentioned earlier, although I have a contract for the book I'm writing, I have no idea if the publisher will still exist in two years. Have no idea if, by then, that publisher or any other will still want to "publish" "real" books. Have no idea what "publishing" and "books" will be like by that time.
Then there's the recent settlement with Google about its project to digitize the known universe. (This will affect just about everyone on the planet, so it's worth knowing about.)
No surprise, many people are weighing in on all of this, and I keep track of it, and so I offer this up to those of you who, like me, are living through a moment of historical import.
Some of these links below are now about a week old (I've been trying to put this entry together that long; the baby is a time sink), so you may have seen some of them already.
For a great introduction to the issues facing the publishing industry, this piece in Time magazine.
If you're up for more, this fascinating essay pondering the possible impact of the Google settlement. The author, Robert Darnton, is a historian (a considerably more refined, high-brow, and erudite one than am I), so his take is, uh, historical. If you can wade through the technical stuff at the beginning, the essay is absolutely worth reading. (*1)
And then this alt-view on the same subject from Nicholas Carr. Connected to all of this is, of course, the ongoing debate on "the future of the book."
Many people are thinking in detail about that, but one of the best efforts is that of David Nygren at his blog, The Urban Elitist. David isn't just some random, frustrated writer-wannabe. He works in mainstream publishing, so he's inside the belly of the beast and grasps the technical and logistical issues at stake. He's got many posts on this subject, so start with this, and then click on his "books" or "e-books" tags for more. He's also partnered up with another friend, and they're writing a series of cross-posts on the subject, so take a look at this if you have time.
I've also been enjoying the ruminations on these topics by Alan Jacobs at Text Patterns and the folks at Book Oven.
And finally, a sobering roundup of the latest newspaper closing/bankruptcies/etc. (I believe I owe Stan for this particular link, when he commented on an earlier post of mine.) (And for this.)
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*1: I'm puzzled, however, by the lack of links to relevant topics. Why in the world didn't the editors say "gee, this would be a great opportunity to use the web's power to enhance a piece that also appeared in print.
This is how they do their work: envelope it in data and "research" and health issues (most of which, frankly, are bogus). (And, no, I can't find a link to the original study. So you're gonna have to settle for this edited version.)
The American Economic Journal abstract is here. The summary that started my mini-rant is here. But also check out Matthew Ygleias's take on it. (If they can sucker good "liberals," then they can sucker anyone). In any case, this is timely, given the thoughtful comment left by a reader in response to my previous blog entry.
Tip o' the mug to Jacob Grier, my ever-reliable source for nanny-state-insanity (who is, of course, not even remotely impressed by all the charts and powerpoint crapola).
More on the neo-prohibitionists from Stephen Beaumont. Big tip o' the mug to eagle-eye reader Dexter. (And if you want more, check out this from Jay Brooks.)
This from today's New York Times.
As I noted here and here, context and historical perspective alter the picture. But it’s worth contemplating the preachy subtext of the editorial piece in the Times: Hard times = propensity to drink to excess. People who enjoy alcohol, and the right to drink, ought to worry about that subtext.
Historically, prohibitionist sentiment flourishes during periods of economic, social, and cultural turmoil. A century ago, for example, Americans were adjusting to the upheaval that accompanied the birth of the industrial economy, and the emergence of technologies like electricity and the telephone.
Prohibitionists had little trouble persuading a troubled, frightened nation that alcohol made life worse, and that eliminating it would make life better.
We’re living through an even more tumultuous era now, as digitization and the internet force us to re-imagine media, education, and the economy, and as globalization and terrorism rattle our psyches. Neo-prohibitionists will seize the moment, and prey on Americans’ insecurities. They're already working to build a dry America one step at a time: A new local tax here, a more strict licensing regulation there; elsewhere programs designed to teach children to demonize, rather than respect, alcohol.
As the recession deepens, and turns to depression, we can expect new “scientific” studies demonstrating the dangers of turning to drink during hard times. Drys will blame alcohol for upswings in, say, crime or domestic violence, whose rates typically rise when societies are in turmoil.
As global demand for food increases, and food prices soar, drys may argue (as did their counterparts a century ago) that valuable crop land ought not be “wasted” on hops or barley; that corn should not be “wasted” on beer.
In short, in hard times, prohibitionists argue for restrictions on drink -- for a more intrusive nanny state -- on grounds that those hard times lead adults to drink. Drinkers: beware.
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Good source of information for all things alcohol: Alcohol Problems and Solutions
Newsflash: pot farmers are a mainstay of Mendocino County, California.
Except it's not news to me. In the 1960s, the region attracted back-to-the-landers, many of whom are still devoted to transforming counterculture into mainstream culture.
But the news report inspires this edition of First Draft Follies, an ongoing series here at the blog. This edition recounts of the founding of Mendocino Brewing.
As always, the material is presented "as is" from the first draft of the manuscript that became the book Ambitious Brew. In a few places I added one or two words in brackets -- [like this] -- for clarification. This excerpt from the first draft picks up just as Jack McAuliffe has closed New Albion, the nation's first brewpub.
(Tip o' the mug to David Fahey at the Alcohol & Drugs History Society's Daily Register for the link to the pot farming article.)
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The [Jack] McAuliffe/[Ken] Grossman model [of using scrap material to build microbreweries] inspired most of the first craft brewers, but in the early eighties, two other entrepreneurial structures emerged as well. (*1)
Michael Laybourn and Norman Franks pioneered the combination of craft brewing and American-style pub. Like other craft brewers, the pair practiced homebrewing, and like so many others, dreamed of earning a living making beer. They visited New Albion, talked to McAuliffe, tasted his beer, and left inspired by McAuliffe’s advice and encouragement. They also listened when McAuliffe warned them of the Catch-22, and Laybourn and Franks understood that the retail side of brewing posed more dangers than anything that might infect the brewvat’s contents.
They shaped their own plans accordingly, using the new California law that permitted brewers to retail their beer on site. The trio envisioned a brewery with an attached tavern and garden where people could drink quality beer and enjoy life in general and the California lifestyle in particular.
The location, Hopland, California, about sixty miles north of Sonoma in Mendocino County, proved an inspired choice to build the brewery. Mendocino County was populated by a mix of ranching families who raised cattle and horses, winemakers, and “lots of hippies,” courtesy of a “tremendous migration of back-to-the-landers.” (*2)
The once thriving hops industry had all but vanished in the two decades after World War II, but in recent years, Fetzer Winery had established operations in the county, including a wine tasting room in the old high school in Hopland. T
he town itself was tiny--just a few hundred people--but it sat on Highway 101, the ribbon of road that runs from Los Angeles north to the Oregon border. Every day, twelve to thirteen thousand cars zoomed past.
The perfect location for a place where wine afficianados and tourists, hippies and ranchers, farmers and winemakers could gather to eat and drink, listen to music and dance. A new generation’s version of the pleasure gardens owned by the German émigrés of yesteryear.
Laybourn and Franks wrote a prospectus and shopped the idea in and around the area. Laybourn knew a few people and they introduced him to more: A veterinarian, some doctors, farmers with century-old roots in the area and “money buried in [their] backyards.” Don Barkley’s parents invested. (*3)
The partners, a trio once John Scahill joined the venture, leased a hundred-year-old structure that fronted the highway. A century earlier, the building housed the Hop Vine Saloon, then a butcher shop, and, at the time Fetzer leased it to the partners, an antiques store. They built the brewery out back, choosing a design modeled after a hop kiln.
By that time, New Albion had failed. The Mendocino partners, who had no illusions about their brewing skills, bought McAuliffe’s equipment and hired Jack and Don to operate the brewery.
Mendocino Brewing’s beer traced its ancestry to McAuliffe’s hearty ale and to the “Thunder Beer” that Laybourn and Franks used to brew for their friends. As for the name, the owners wanted something that paid homage to the time and place. They settled on Red Tail Ale, in part because ofhe beer was “sort of reddish” in color. (*4) But the main inspiration came from a song much loved by northern Californians, “The Redtail Hawk,” a simple hymn to the “golden rolling hills” of California, where the redtail hawk “writes songs across the sky.” (*5)
The peregrine falcon, a more “delicate bird,” served as namesake for their second beer, a “golden, delicate ale.” (*6) An image of a black hawk adorned bottles of the brewery’s stout, and Blue Heron, a hoppy spring beer, honored a nearby preserve for that bird.
The labels, vivid ovals of color and life, depicted their respective creatures with wings spread in triumphant salute. The “joint was packed” when Laybourn and the others opened to the public on August 14, 1983. (*7) California’s first brewpub was in business. A new heart for an old community. A beer garden and brewhouse such as to warm the heart of Phillip and Jacob Best. (*8)
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Sources: *1: Jack McAulliffe is credited with founding the nation's first microbrewery. The most substantive account of that event is in Ambitious Brew: The Story of American Beer.
*2: Don Barkley interview with Maureen Ogle, May 8, 2005.
*3: Barkley interview
*4: Daniel Bradford, “Mendocino’s Hopland Brewery,” New Brewer 4, no. 1 (January-February 1987): 21.
*5: “The Redtail Hawk,” music and lyrics by George Schroder, XXXX.
*6: Daniel Bradford, “Mendocino’s Hopland Brewery,” New Brewer 4, no. 1 (January-February 1987): 21.
*7: Ibid., 22.
*8: The Best brothers founded a Milwaukee brewery in 1844; it eventually became Pabst Brewing Co.
Website of Maureen Ogle, author and historian. Books include Ambitious Brew: The Story of American Beer; In Meat We Trust: An Unexpected History of Carnivore America; and Key West: History of An Island of Dreams.
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