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Although I did not attend the “From Print to Pixels” event, I am fascinated by the influence of technology and emerging media on culture and long-held customs. A recent theme in my studies involves contemplating the possibility of reconciling global issues with the advent of technology, so I appreciate Jennifer relating her experience and skepticism about emerging technologies in the book publishing world.

Everything is changing, but right now we live in a world that is adapted to producing and consuming information the old-fashioned way. Even though many people are concerned and distrustful about emerging media platforms, we still find these new technologies beginning to pervade our culture and commerce. I think because the digital shift is all-pervasive and simultaneously uncertain, we find it difficult to consign ourselves entirely to its pretenses. Obviously, remembering to bring one e-reader with you is easier than remembering to bring four or five books, but what’s the catch? There’s always a catch when it comes to technology.

It seems like people keep finding out the hard way that technology creates more problems than it solves. You might be able to buy all the classics as e-books, even some text books are moving to e-books, but some smart people don’t need to buy an e-reader to know that it probably won’t solve all your book problems, and it might in fact give you new book problems. This is the uncertainty of emerging technologies.

Someday, we might look back on e-readers and e-books as just another antiquated technology relegated to the museum archives.  And, by that time, who knows what we will think of books. But until then, we have a fascinating voyage ahead of us, filled with amazing new inventions and innovative technological solutions. The Espresso Book Machine v. E-readers is one example, and another example is Facebook marketing and the new models of publication requiring authors to maintain a platform and personal investment in their work. All this delineates the landscape of the digital shift. The digital shift transforms industry, reshapes the economy, and creates a new reference point for future generations.

Of course, this begs the question that Jennifer pointed up in her post: Is this digital shift a good thing or a bad thing, and how could we really know?

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This is a formal apology to anyone that is irritated by this post. Why? Well, in my recent experiences, there are two reactions to my obsessive compulsive tendency to wax philosophical about everything: a gigantic explosion of a fight and/or extreme boredom. Hence, if you don’t enjoy philosophical ramblings or questions about fiction and writing, you’d do yourself a great service by ignoring this post. Got it? Okay, I’ll wait for said party to leave the room…

Are they gone? Great. So as I’ve previously stated, reading is not my first choice when it comes to time “wasting.” Stephen King has written articles for EW repeatedly denying the death of the novel and claiming that novels remain the best entertainment option despite the plethora of alternatives. He argues that compared to movies, the experience costs less, lasts longer, doesn’t have any ads (Let’s see how long it takes for advertisers to pick up on this potential gold mine!), and has no age restrictions based on a rating system. He’s correct of course, and I don’t mean to suggest that gaming is in any way superior to reading.

But what I find somewhat interesting is that some of the positives that you can get from reading when compared to movies can also be said of certain games. Today, Call of Duty–probably the best-selling shooter series of the last decade–features a “short, focused” campaign compared to the longer campaigns of yesteryear, and yet each ame still lasts four times as long as a movie. And that, of course, is without factoring in the endless online multiplayer that continues to be a staple of the franchise. In fact, the average length for games nowadays is around eight hours before you add in multiplayer options. Move into the realm of Role-Playing Games and you’re looking at somewhere between 20 and 100 hours of gameplay, and MMORPGs are designed to keep the player hooked for years. And although one can’t argue that gaming is a physical activity, one can argue that having control of the main character develops hand-eye coordination and prevents players from being “vegetables” like they are watching TV or movies.

Of course, gaming comes with its own downsides: the consoles are expensive $200+ affairs and the cost of video games has steadily increased over time from $40 to $60, which is two or three times more expensive than a hardcover novel and miles more expensive than a movie ticket. Video games also tend to have many similar downsides to TV watching like a tendency to encourage laziness, and most games–the major exceptions being those that make people dance or perform physical motions on the Wii, Kinect, or Playstation Move–don’t encourage physical activity. And naturally, because someone did the art and gameplay design, gaming doesn’t exercise your imagination as much as old-fashioned storytelling does.

I’d like to pose a few questions. First, is there room in a serious writer’s life for video games? Second, is there any chance that gaming can yield greater personal benefits to one’s life than other forms of “time-wasting” like TV and movies? Third, is there any real harm to being a bookworm? You often hear about the dangers of watching too much TV or playing too many video games, but I’ve never personally heard anybody give a lecture on problems–psychological, physical, or otherwise–of reading too many novels. Is that because there aren’t any? Or is it just because society views it as a more worthwhile pursuit?

My personal answer to these questions is that I don’t know if it’s possible for a hardcore gamer to be a serious writer, though I believe with proper moderation, gaming can be beneficial to a writer. I believe that given a choice between film and video games, it is healthier to game, but that given a choice between games and novels, it is healthier to read. And finally, I believe that reading too often can cause problems the same way watching too much TV can, though I’m not personally familiar with any disorders or addictions associated with it. In short, I believe too much of anything is bad for us.

I’d love to hear what you guys think of this idea, and regardless, thank you for taking the time to read this. 🙂

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For some reason, this week made me start thinking about censorship. Not the type of censorship typically thought of, with a capital C, revolving around the government and its plethora of octopus-type arms, but rather the smaller forms that are rarely recognized. The self-censorship and the people who determine what’s printed for all to see and what doesn’t.

Now, most people can decide on their own there are certain things that shouldn’t be broadcast, whether on Facebook, blogs, etc—and there are news stories about the people who can’t, discussing the nuances of why they said what they did. That’s the type of censorship known as commonsense.

But the one I most want to talk about regards the gatekeepers—whether it is peer-editors, publishers, or whoever might stand between the writer and the market. When Sam talked about some of the finer points of her copywriting position, she mentioned how certain things, down to the word level, simply don’t fly. That seems partially about advertising and having previous knowledge on what can and can’t sell products, but it also relates to how a company wants to appear to whoever might read that piece of copy. Stuff appearing on the website is probably where businesses go automatically, whereas younger people probably find that page through Facebook. The writing manual for social media is probably easier to let certain words or phrases slip through.

I guess what I’ve been thinking about this week though is who has the right to decide what gets said and what doesn’t? Publishers pick and choose books based on whether or not they’ll sell, but that circles back to what people want to hear and what they’ll reject upon reading/listening. But with self-publishing on the rise, fewer people stand between writers and their message. Will people continue to self-censor as much as usual or will not having to ask permission from the gatekeepers reduce the concern people have for what they say?

The comment option on sites like YouTube already demonstrate that people, upon not facing the same consequences since they become just another username, don’t think as much about what they say and will go beyond what they’d probably tell someone to their face.

But, in terms of publishing and not just being allowed to be as mean as you want when critiquing stuff in comments, is this reduced censorship of ideas the way it should be? Or should there be the gatekeepers, preventing certain things from reaching the public?