A philosophical president of Random House publishing, Gina Centrello, concedes that the industry is changing fast. She seems comfortable about it. It’s her contention that yes, e-readers will be a predominant way people receive their books, but that real books, with pages between covers will also remain. Her belief is that the best of both worlds will exist, and this is fantastic for the consumer because they now have choice. Up until now, the poor person who wanted to scan War and Peace– (my example)- had to lug this heavy clumsy thing whenever they needed to extract quotes for a book report, to make it look as thought they’d read it. In their back pocket folded into near oblivion is the Cliff Note. A Cliff Note on the other hand is skinny and practically featherweight-doesn’t matter–it too will be available on a e-reader, no doubt. She seems positively cheery about the prospects the future brings.
Diane Plumley
New York Is Book Country No More
New York hasn’t been book country since the tragic day of 9/11, in my opinion. Because of the security risks, a tradition died. Every year the city would have a street fair full of books, authors, publishers, and people wandering up and down a particular part of Fifth Ave in late Sept. Although the fair did try to reestablish itself for a couple of years, after moving to The Village, and then Central Park, it lost much of its luster and girth and finally petered out.
A Little Lily Dale Tale
After I wrote the article about spiritualism books, I thought a more detailed description of the one town full of mediums may be interesting and amusing to some, so I am posting this memory of my experience. I hope you enjoy
My husband and I visited this teeny town on the extreme western end of NY State during our road trip.
The houses are slightly tilted worn pastel gingerbread Victorians decorated with various angel statues, twinkling lights, and dead people.
Is There Such a Thing as Writer’s Block?
Because if there is, I’ve caught it. Not that I’m a writer, per se, not like published novelists, revered historians, hate-mongering extremists–oh wait, they aren’t ‘writers’ either. They just spew stuff out, it splats onto the computer screen, some greedy publisher knowing crazy sells puts it between cardboard, and voila! They’re labeled writers. It slays me when Bill O’Reilly ‘writes’ a history of Lincoln–with some obscure name attached on the bottom. He did pen a suspense novel, I have an inscribed copy to prove it. Did I read it? No. The ghost on that one was truly invisible.
But I digress. (Those thoughts did increase my word count though.See below.) I’ve been attempting to enthuse about some subject related to books, book-selling, collecting, eating–no the last is what I’d rather do instead of thinking about what I’m not writing. Eating a nice big bowl of Campbell’s tomato with basil soup. I nearly passed out when I saw the price of one damn can of soup! How are people surviving? Families? No increase in salary, but food prices keep a’goin on up. I guess others have seen the price of soup climb over the years–they are the ones making the trek to the ‘local’ supermarket–or just market, nothing super there, push a squealing cart in each cramped, can tottering aisle, wait for years checking out behind foreign language screaming kids (which language? Pick one, you’ll hear it in NYC) and then stumble carrying 80 pounds of cat litter, and 15 bottles of soda by the 24 hour fruit market, realizing some oranges would be nice, so pause, put down two of the bags, while navigating around a precarious pyramid of small tangerines, only to find an elbow has dislodged turnips which fall like giant puple raindrops and roll down slanted cement, tripping passerbys, finally coming to rest in the line of traffic. They’re just another casualty in the Naked City. After retrieving kicked deflated bags, oranges idea soured, they play bumper car for the final blocks–‘whoops, sorry,’ ‘hey, watch where your’e going, that was my former eyeball you just poked’, the 5 floor walkup materializes, and the arduous Mt. Everest climb begins until panting and too exhausted to eat, they’ve reached the rarified top floor, sans penthouse.
The Anthony Award Winners Announced
The 2012 Bouchercon fan conference concluded its 4 day run and this year’s winners of the coveted award named after Anthony Boucher, critic and crime fiction author, were presented Saturday evening.
Here is the list of nominees. The winners are highlighted.
Bookselling–A Solitary Job?
Working in a bookstore can be a solitary job. If alone, one can shelve books quietly, study the synopsis of a particular title without worrying about time constraints, enjoy just being surrounded by words. In two of my mystery bookstore jobs I was alone a great deal. My desk was upstairs within new hardcovers and collectible titles at one job. Enya’s soothing voice echoed around the room –over and over and over and over and, well you get the idea. If a customer did venture up the twisted staircase, they usually were known to me, and we would discuss what titles they had read, what they needed to read, and or collect, and then off they would go with whatever purchases they decided upon. I didn’t even have the responsibility of ringing them up. I did order hardcovers, set up signings, invoice customers, etc., etc., etc., and it kept me in perpetual motion. I answered the phone, took orders, blah blah. I was never without something to do. Which is a good thing, because I was also in a state of perpetual anxiety. At least when I first began the job. I’d just come from managing a bookstore where the owner had passed away, and wanted to do a exemplary job at my new manager’s position at a prestigious specialty bookstore. Normally worries would have passed within a reasonable time, but the extra added pressure of a popular former manager starting part-time exactly at the moment I took over the job, gave me pause to wonder–what’s up with that? And if I don’t perform up to expectations, will I be history and the former manager slide right in?
Talking To The Dead
Bored with 24 hour news, politics, and Perry Mason re-runs, I tripped over the laughably named The Learning Channel, and fell into an episode of Long Island Medium. I had seen snippets of the show before, but hadn’t concentrated all that hard at what was transpiring. Apparently a woman who has a typical Longk I-link accent and brassy personality, speaks to dead people. And this is a reality TV show because. . .? Mediumship and Spiritualism seems to have been having a major rebirth, pardon the pun, the last 15 years or so. 9/11, 2 wars, and economic depression are the perfect ingredients for those who claim to have entrance into the afterlife. The grief stricken, frightened, confused, seek answers and some find themselves making an appointment with a psychic, medium, spiritualist with the idea that they have them.
Deco Delights–A Look At Book and Ephemera Illustration
My favorite book cover artwork was rendered during what is loosely called the Art Deco period. That term is being used extravagantly these days, to incorporate years far beyond the
1930s which I always thought of as the cut off. Stylistically, Art Deco has been stretched like a rubber band–eventually it will snap, and nothing and everything in illustration will be labeled ‘Deco.’ I’m guilty of identifying much of my particular likes within vintage illustration as ‘Deco’–I can’t describe the style, but I know it when I see it–sort of like, I don’t know great art, but I know what I like, ha. The book cover art I especially am drawn to has bold lines and colors, a Clarice Cliff look, but on paper, not ceramics. I thought I’d share some of my favorite book covers, illustrations, and paper ephemera from this period.