02 Mar

Is Paper Dead?

More expert analysis coming your way. This time, I tackle the death of the novel and new media fiction.

I’ve been flirting with interactive stories for the past year or so. And my goal in doing so was pretty simple: I just wanted to make the process of reading a little more fun. People don’t read a lot of fiction on the web. And I have some theories on why that is.

It’s tempting to say that the computer screen is just too tough on the eyes and to blame the current technology for scaring off potential readers. Certainly, the Kindle has used such logic in making their product as printed-page-like as possible. But I have spent multiple hours reading text on the computer screen, and I know that most of my students have also done so.

It seems, then, that the real problem is not the amount of time spent reading a computer screen. The problem is rather the type of reading done.

Web reading is not static. It involves a lot of navigation, a mixture of image and text, and interactivity. Such reading is easier on the eyes than the long-session strain of novel-reading. And it’s also a fundamentally different type of brain engagement.

To begin with, we approach the web with the understanding that we’ll be looking at chunks of meaning. A classic example is the experience that most people have had of getting lost in wikipedia linking. You look up one topic, like, say, “pawn,” which you’ve been hearing the kids say, and the next thing you know, you’re reading about leetspeak and hacking and lolcats and memes and viral propagation. We can end up reading several chapters’ worth of information, but we get tricked into doing so because we have calibrated our brains for small units of meaning. High school students can spend hours on Facebook, but they’re examining chunks of information — status reports, pictures, videos.

A related issue is limited attention: we usually approach internet content as a temporary thing. Seldom do I ever sit down at the computer thinking that I’ll read for the next hour. It’s usually more a matter of checking in, skimming headlines, reading blurbs, etc. Sometimes, I’ll discover an interesting video online, but if it’s over 10 minutes long, I’m hesitant to start watching. Essentially, the internet reader’s mindset is in ADD mode.

Is the web making us ADD? Or does it just cater to that ADD part of us that already exists? I’m not sure, but it’s certainly a venue conducive to mixed media. Web reading is usually accompanied by images and increasingly offers video links. Many wikipedia pages (and I keep using wikipedia as an example because it’s one of the most-read site on the web) have charts, bullet point lists, and images in their margins.

All in all, web content resembles magazine or newspaper reading more than it does novel-reading. The reason the internet is killing print media like newspapers is that the web reads exactly like a newspaper. It does absolutely everything a newspaper can do, but it also allows greater ease of navigation.

I would guess that the web will not kill novels; it simply can’t replace the novel. The Kindle, and products like it, may indeed end up killing paper novels — though I don’t really see that happening soon. But at this point in our history, we simply don’t read internet content like we read novels.

Another way of saying the same thing is to say that novels won’t survive on the internet. Sure, they’ll be available online, but unless our interface with the web changes drastically (and it may do so some time within the next decade or two), they won’t be nearly as popular as other types of reading.

So the question becomes, what type of fiction will thrive in the new media environments currently facing our technologically advanced societies? That’s the issue I’ll explore next time.

08 Feb

Adaptation

So I just threw together a quick little story that’s a sort of reverse adaptation. Usually, the written word precedes the visual story — in film, play, or digital video. But here, I’ve tried to create a story (that hopefully stands alone) adapted from one of my favorite short films, Evol by Chris Vincze. I’ve embedded the video below, but it looks better and doesn’t have ads on Vincze’s site.

Rick Warden was the only one.

Maybe you know what it’s like – to take tentative steps out into the world, weighed down by the inevitability that you’ll discover once again that you are completely and utterly alone. Such was Rick’s predicament as he wandered the streets of London one gloomy fall day.

Who knows when it had started? It had just happened gradually over the course of years. Once, Rick spotted two girls talking on their cell phones, staring at the displays of two different shop windows a mere ten or twenty meters from each other. Rick eavesdropped on them both and came to realize they were talking to one another. But they had no idea. Where are you? one asked. I’m on the street window-shopping, the other replied. Oh, me too, the first said. And they chuckled and continued on, oblivious to the world around them.

Soon after that, the trends started. People spent less time at home and more and more time at their offices, their schools, or their shops. They stopped conversing. They still spoke to clerks and waiters, but they only sent written messages to the ones they “loved” over cell phones and computers. Sometimes, they met, dated, and broke up with their “lovers” without ever having laid eyes on each other, without ever having touched.

As if that all weren’t strange enough, then people began doing everything backwards. Literally. It started among the celebrities, who, you certainly know, had to set themselves apart from the little people, even if it meant discomfort or inconvenience. But soon everyone was doing it.

Everyone, that is, but Rick. He held out, maintained his old ways, refused to fall in line. Not that anyone noticed. Nobody ever noticed. It was like people didn’t see each other at all, like everyone had become those two girls window-shopping downtown.

But then he saw her. She was sitting at a lone table outside a nearly empty café, moving distinctly forward. They locked eyes.

It was embarrassing almost, to be seen like that – really seen. They couldn’t look at each other. She covered her eyes with her newspaper; he attempted to walk backwards like everyone else.

It was no use, though, to pretend. So they waved sheepish greetings to one another across the bustling, backwards pedestrian mall.

She was the first to let down her hair, so to speak, performing wondrous feats of forward-movement like drinking through a straw. It was like magic to see her orange juice disappear. How absurd. The world had once been a place of such wonder on a daily basis.

She folded a paper airplane, tossed it into the street. And miracle of miracles, it flew.

Rick took a tentative step forward. Could he really be himself?

She nodded, smiled.

Rick laughed. He tried a dance step or two. It had been so long since he’d seen anyone so comfortable in her own skin, proud of her own quirkiness, unafraid to be silly, to go against the grain of the world’s movement.

And that’s when the magic really began. Without words – without cell phones or email or text messages – they were suddenly on their first date. She conjured teacups from somewhere – without talking to a waiter, mind you; he conjured a suit and tie and a daisy. He moved toward her, confident in his steps.

But then she was gone. Disappeared.

He found only her shoes on the ground, left behind like Cinderella’s. Was it silly to think of fairy tales? Perhaps he’d been naïve.

And yet, just as quickly, she reappeared, in a gorgeous suit of her own.

They danced in the street. No one paid them any notice. They danced unashamed amongst the throngs of backward pedestrians. They twirled and spun and dipped and held each other close. And they did it all forward. Their love, you might say, was the only forward thing in the world. And when she kissed him, slow and sweet, it was the only kiss in the world.

25 Jan

Lipogrammatic fun

Well, I officially got sick this weekend, and last night, amidst a fitful bout of tossing and turning, I started composing poetry. I had gone to bed with a very specific type of phrase on my mind: it’s one in which each vowel is used once and only once. An example: What’s up with Moses?

And so, in my slightly feverish state, I composed this poem and then got out of bed to write it down blindly in the dark. I’m so strange.

O, understanding
Are you sin?
Apple isn’t ours
To quench a thirst
But we contradict
To acquire
O such great things
From what slithers up
Our little branch
Our grand pride.

03 Jan

Top 10 New Musical Discoveries of 2008

(In no particular order.) I’ll be posting songs on the tumblr for the next ten days.

  • Early in the year, my brother exposed me to Bon Iver, whose debut album, For Emma, Forever Ago is a one man show of Justin Vernon, a proud Wisconsinite who wrote and recorded all the songs on the album over a three month span one winter in the North Woods. It’s a phenomenal album, and he’s got a new one coming later this month. We recently saw Bon Iver in concert at the Barrymore, and we saw him last April at the Orpheum Stage Door theater. Both shows were great, though it’s hard to top the intimacy of that April show.
  • Another highlight of our concert-going for the year was the Hotel Cafe tour, which swung by the High Noon Saloon this fall. It featured five artists (Jaymay, Alice Russell, Meiko, Thao Nguyen, and Rachael Yamagata). Though Rachael Yamagata was the headliner, Thao definitely stole the show. Yamagata’s introspective songs were nice, but failed to command the attention and passion that equally quiet artists (like Ray LaMontagne or Bon Iver) can. Thao’s energy, on the other hand, was uncontainable and infectious, and her songs, from a release this year called We Brave Bee Stings and All were catchy and original.
  • We missed out on Vampire Weekend‘s stop through town (too late in trying to get tickets), but I personally enjoyed their album. It’s hip these days to call them overrated, and who knows? Maybe they won’t have much staying power. But one particular song of theirs, M79, is so good, I have to include them on my list.
  • I also have to include Flight of the Conchords, who released an album of their hits from season 1 of their show, which is without question one of the best comedies currently on TV. The music is not only funny; it’s quite clever in its nods to different musical genres, and it’s often pretty catchy stuff. I don’t typically go for musicals. They’re not really my style. But Flight of the Conchords manages to offer enough satire and comedy that it doesn’t feel like it’s a musical.
  • The movie Once also didn’t feel like a musical, though it most certainly was one. The accompanying album, by Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova, is a beautiful piece of musicianship that stands alone without any of the film plot associations it conjures. But the fact that the film’s story was so wonderful certainly helps.
  • Eileen and I discovered another Irish gem when we visited Ireland this past summer. It was a children’s choir called Cor Na nOg that we heard on the Irish equivalent of NPR. When we heard them on the radio, we were immediately impressed, but we didn’t catch their name. So we went searching in music stores, asking people about the RTE children’s choir. No one knew the name. But back in the states, with the help of the internet, I eventually found them out. I sent an email via the contact form on the website, asking if any CDs were available for purchase. I got a response from a woman named Norma who said the following: “Any CDs we have produced are ‘freebies’ to be sent out with our TV Guide. If you give me your address, I’ll see if I can dig one up for you.” She sent me two. From Ireland. At no charge. I love the Irish.
  • I also remained enthralled with Yann Tiersen, the composer responsible for the Amelie soundtrack, and I went on a binge, collecting music of his. This year, he put together a soundtrack for a documentary called Tabarly about a famous French sailor. I haven’t seen the film, and to tell the truth, I’m skeptical it can do the soundtrack justice. It’s mostly piano music, and mostly wonderful.
  • Tiersen’s Amelie soundtrack makes me wish I could play accordion. Not that I could really do anything as impressive as, say, the shirtless accordion guy, but perhaps I could do something minimal like Beth Tacular, who is one half of the duo that makes up Bowerbirds. Their album of avian-themed lyrics is decidedly indie, and/but it’s really creative stuff.
  • So is Girl Talk’s album, Feed the Animals. Girl Talk is another one man show, made up of Gregg Gillis and his huge vocabulary of popular music. He’s a mashup artist, who juggles far more songs per track than your normal mashup artist. Though it can be a little exhausting to listen to the album in its entirety, the musical samples are so fluidly juxtaposed you’ve got to remind yourself to close your gaping mouth as you listen in disbelief. The album is available online for whatever price you decide to pay, and there’s a good wikipedia page which lists all the samples in each track of the album.
  • Last but not least is Australian Xavier Rudd whose song Messages I stumbled upon while listening to Pandora one day. He’s been compared to Ben Harper, Paul Simon, and Jack Johnson. All of them are apt comparisons, actually. He’s a pretty versatile artist with lots of different sounds. This year’s release, Dark Shades of Blue, is a little harder and darker (evoking even more comparisons — to Lenny Kravitz and Pearl Jam), but still has some good stuff on it.

So there you have it. My top ten of 2008. Bon Iver, Thao, Vampire Weekend, Flight of the Conchords, Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova, Cor Na nOg, Yann Tiersen, Girl Talk, and Xavier Rudd.