By the Way: One Guy's Experiment With the Kindle

/

On a sort of related topic (related, that is, to the previous post): Astute Reader Dexter sent me a link to this New Yorker magazine article in which the author gives the Kindle a test run. It's a long article, but if you're thinking about buying/using an e-reader, it's worth reading.

Dexter also informs me that I'm ruining his reptutation: I keep referring to him here as this ultra-connected guy lying on a beach in Hawaii. He's not, and he's not: According to him, he owns pretty much zero e-gadgets (no blackberry, etc.) and spends little to no time on the beach itself.

He also says he's not nearly as culturally literate as I keep making him sound, but he attempted to refute my description of himself by referencing seven obscure films, an ancient Paul Simon song, and Norman Mailer. Which, ahem, proves my point.

Giving "Attention" Where Attention is Due; Or Learning to Live With the Third Life

/

Or something like that. One of the regular readers of this blog, Susan-the-Brewess (who, like me, lives in Iowa), just sent me a link to an article about "attention" and distraction.

The piece, in New York Magazine, ran last May. I read it then, but thanks to Susan's email, I just re-read it. And it's worth reading (assuming, ahem, you're interested in things like why the HELL does life feel so different than it did ten years ago?

I mean, didn't things used to move at a less frantic pace??) An interesting companion piece of sorts, by the way, is this short article in today's New York Times about the dangers of texting while driving. The short version: It's dangerous. Don't do it. (Please. As someone who is constantly dogging distracted cellphone-using drivers who run red lights and stop signs, I'm BEGGING you to get off the fucking phone and pay attention to  driving.)

Anyway, I'm glad Susan sent me the link to the article because re-reading it inspires me to this thought: Why should I feel guilty about letting this blog slide for a bit right now?

I mean, I'm writing a book, for god's sake, and as anyone who's ever written a book will attest, it's a task that requires long periods of focus and concentration.

It's also worth noting this fact: I'm writing my fourth book. But this is the first one that will be research and written entirely in the presence of an online life. I only "discovered," if you want to call it that, email and the 'net about halfway through the process of writing my previous book (the one about beer).

Like most people, I was initially enamored of the online thing and, of course, distracted by it. That complicated the task of finishing the beer book. I'm not sure it slowed me down, but it definitely increased my stress level: I had to work longer hours to keep pace, because I was spending free time hanging out online. If that makes sense.

Anyway, when I started this book, I promised myself that I would create a better balance between "work," my regular life (laundry errands, cooking, family, etc.), and the internet --- and was shocked to realize that I'd begun thinking of internet/email/bogging as a third form of life. Not an appendage to the other "lives," but a separate entity altogether.

Like most writers, the deeper I get into a book, the more I tune out the world around me. I stop socializing. Let the housework slide, etc. I've always done that, but it's harder now because I've got this third life demanding my attention.

But right now, meaning this week and the next, well, by god, I'm at least gonna shrug off the guilt of ignoring Life Number Three. I have an inordinate number of things going on (not least of which is The Baby is coming to visit for a week) and I've hit a crucial point in the new book.

So, hey! Life Number Three, you're just gonna have to get by without me for a week or two.

Now. You wait. I'll find something fascinating or rant-inspiring and I'll end up right back here, typing away, revealing my latest brainstorm to anyone who cares to read about it. Life. Can't live with it. Can't live without it.

(Tip o' the mug to Susan for the link to the New York piece.)

So What Do I Think E-Readers Are Good For? Right Now, Not Much

/

Tony Comstock, one of my Twitter-pals (@tonycomstock) (a truly nice guy who is passionate about personal freedom), asked me (rhetorically) if he'd be able to read the Kama Sutra on the Apple e-reader (or any reader).

Well, I dunno. But I'm guessing that for some time to come, e-readers will only be useful for reading fiction. Mind you, I've never used an e-reader (can't justify that kind of money for something with, at present, marginal utility).

But given my experience reading scholarly journals and monographs online, I  suspect it will be a loooooong time before anyone comes up with an e-reader that can be used to read scholarly stuff. By that I mean books/articles that contain footnotes or endnotes.

'Cause I'm here to tell you that it's mostly a total. pain. in. the. ass. to read that stuff in digital form.

As you probably know, Google and a number of university libraries launched a partnership several years ago to scan the contents of the libraries. Many of those volumes are available at the partner libraries (most notably at the University of Michigan's online library).

I have no idea who designed the software/structure for the project, but mostly it sucks. The project calls for the actual books to be scanned, so the online versions are digital reproductions of the physical books. That's where the problem begins. The software is designed to allow you to "open" only a few e-pages at at time.

But what if the book contains endnotes that were printed at the end of the book? Say you're reading page 24 and it contains five endnotes, and those were printed on page 250?

You guessed it: Close the first set; call up the pages that contain the notes. Total nuisance. Tedious and time-consuming. WAY more complicated than, ya know, just opening the pages of a book and thumbing through them.

And don't EVEN get me started on how fucked up the method is in other databases, ones created by other, different partnerships. Unless you've used them, you canNOT imagine how much those software designers managed to complicate the otherwise simple task of leafing through a journal.

Take my word for it: The printed page is much easier to deal with. So, for that matter, is microfilm.

Right now, for example, I need to read Good Housekeeping from c. 1890 to 1910. I started reading it online --- and gave up. It takes too damn long. It's easier for me to go to the library and read it on microfilm.

Obviously, none of this would matter if the content is designed specifically to be used on some kind of e-reading device. Eg, turn the notes into hyperlinks and create a reading device that allows the reader to jump back and forth from page to note and back. But it would also help if the program designers actually, ya know, tried USING their own programs.

Life in the digital age: Not all it's cracked up to be.

God, where did this diatribe come from???

Aha! Jobs IS On the Job (Of Creating An E-Reader)

/

So. It's true: When Jobs says he's not doing something, it means that he is. A few months ago, and then a few months before that, I commented on Jobs's comment that no one reads anymore, which was interpreted as meaning "We're working in secret on The Best E-Reader Ever." Well, here's more news: Apple plans to release the device next year.

Bezos, getcher game on, buddy (as if there's ever a day you don't): Stevie Boy is comin' after you.