bored.
Lately there have been several new useful additions to technology: iPod (love love love), hybrids, tablet PCs, sex bots, Barnes and Nobles’ nook, Sony Reader, Amazon Kindle, and the latest Apple Ipad. The latter are great innovations in digital media, and very green as I am sure trees are being saved as fewer pages are printed and shipped. However I have to wonder: will literacy suffer with the advent of digital reading? Don’t get me wrong, I love to read; however the idea of shelling out several hundred bucks for a screen and access to books does not inspire me. I prefer to peruse the bargain section or a used book store to find my gems for less than ten bucks. As both publishers and authors realize they can distribute their media without wasting any money on cover art and paper will books become obsolete? As consumers discover they can browse the digital shelves from the comfort of their domicile wi-fi network, will the book stores fade into oblivion like our once beloved record stores? If I buy a Reader instead of a Kindle will I miss the next classic because I'm on the wrong book server? Call me sentimental but I miss afternoons spent thumbing through racks of CDs with the luxury of trading my old used for something new and exciting, it was fulfilling to trek down to the store the after waiting weeks or months for my favorite artist’s latest release, these days music stores seem more like museums. Now my music preordered on iTunes and forgotten until it hits the download cue. They say history repeats itself, I think I see the impending gloomy future our beloved Book Nook’s and Barnes and Nobles. The store front of the record store where I used to work still sits vacant on the busiest intersection of my town-- a sad, dusty reminder of what once was, and a gripping reluctance to completely let it go. It has been interesting to watch how the transition to digital media has played out in the music industry I wonder how it will treat publishing? As I mentioned before, I worked in a record store and we sure didn't go down without a fight, we too attempted the transition from a glossy storefront to an indispensable online haven. (see feedyourplayer.com). The Digital age has made music readily accessible and easily stolen and has led to an interesting online "indie-ish" music subculture as artists scramble to find ways to make money and listeners wrangle them for their hard work disappointed when their favorites admit that they are here to make money. I never forgave Metallica for what they did to Napster in 2000. It is hard to imagine literature transforming like music. As a hobby that takes a lot more time and effort to enjoy it is hard to imagine eReaders going viral like iPods and MP3 players. To the youth in America, reading was already less 'cool' than music with the exception of the Harry Potter and Twilight craze. While it has become popular to compare and share MP3 libraries, it is just hard to imagine kids comparing their Kindle cue lists on the ride home from school. It will be sad to see the hip bookstore clerk and coffee shop crowd image fade into history. I'm worried about the future of the literature industry as books become digitized and inevitably pirated or forgotten. So I guess the best we can do is encourage people to get cozy with their Kindle and try not to miss the feel of a crispy turning page, sexy cover art, the weight of a new hardback, the bliss of a cheap find, or the aroma of new ink and paper. Good-bye bookstores and paperback, hello wifi and polarized pneumatic liquid crystal display.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Aiden Sellick-- The Diplomatic Youth.
So if you are looking at this, chances are you know I have worked quite a bit on a book. So here is an excerpt. There is more but I don't want to bore you too much. I am starting to really feel like working on it some more so let me know what you think. Honestly, if it makes you feel like jumping out of a window I'll put it to rest.
Aidan Sellick-- The Diplomatic Youth
Aidan listened to the pouring rain as he contemplated his escape from the cool dark cave which now contained one sixteen year-old boy and three wet tigers. The air was dense and humid and the rain outside seemed distant as an eerie silence crept throughout the cave. His senses were heightened, his eyes and ears probed the darkness for a way out. All of a sudden the rain stopped and the moon came out, Aidan could see outside the cave for the first time in what seemed like ages. Near the front of the cave were three wet sleeping tigers; one midsized cub, his large protective mother and closest to the mouth of the cave was the massive male king of this jungle. Aidan could just make out the tips of each tiger’s enormous fangs protruding from the corners of their mouths as they slept, and with each breath he took; the moon cast shadows of the king’s great ribs across his smooth striped coat—he looked hungry. His paws were the size of Aidan’s whole head and he couldn’t help but imagine the claws that were retracted within.
Aidan’s mind raced as he planned his escape, but his hand was steady and he wasn’t scared. Twelve feet of dirt floor and three tigers was all that stood between him and the jungle and he was ready to go. So he grabbed his machete, cracked his bare toes against the dirt floor and took off! He took four swift bounding steps, leapt up toward the cave wall, pushed off of it with his right foot, nimble like a cat, and was over the tigers in an instant. He landed on his right foot outside the cave in a cold puddle that splashed muddy water over the king’s back and took off running into the wilderness chopping the thick brush with his machete as he went.
He could hear the tiger running after him as he went so he picked up the pace, now running faster than he even imagined he could. CRACK! He ran head first into a low hanging branch. The tiger caught up to him and he knew his life was about to end. His whole life flashed before his eyes. However, rather than ripping him apart with his massive fangs and claws, the tiger began batting him gently on the side of the head. He heard a familiar voice in the distance, “wake up Aidan, get up!”, and what sounded like laughter.
The jungle faded away and he sat up, shook his head and opened his eyes. He was laying supine next to his desk in the middle of a philosophy lecture and his best friend Leo was nervously tapping the side of his head with his foot. He was so deep in his dream that he fell out of his desk on to the floor only to wake up to a room full of snickering students, a glaring instructor, and the disappointment that he was still here in Plymouth rather than escaping from rogue tigers.
The teacher rattled on about Plato and ancient Greece while Sam continued to day dream from his favorite seat. He sat in the same place in the front row of the classroom every day; obviously not to impress his teachers. From there he could watch boats sailing in and out of port all day long, loading and unloading their cargo. He would contemplate where they had been and what exotic adventures they had undertaken in order to obtain and transport their precious goods; wishing he could trade his soft pale skin for their swarthy complexion and manly sea worthy build.
Aidan listened to the pouring rain as he contemplated his escape from the cool dark cave which now contained one sixteen year-old boy and three wet tigers. The air was dense and humid and the rain outside seemed distant as an eerie silence crept throughout the cave. His senses were heightened, his eyes and ears probed the darkness for a way out. All of a sudden the rain stopped and the moon came out, Aidan could see outside the cave for the first time in what seemed like ages. Near the front of the cave were three wet sleeping tigers; one midsized cub, his large protective mother and closest to the mouth of the cave was the massive male king of this jungle. Aidan could just make out the tips of each tiger’s enormous fangs protruding from the corners of their mouths as they slept, and with each breath he took; the moon cast shadows of the king’s great ribs across his smooth striped coat—he looked hungry. His paws were the size of Aidan’s whole head and he couldn’t help but imagine the claws that were retracted within.
Aidan’s mind raced as he planned his escape, but his hand was steady and he wasn’t scared. Twelve feet of dirt floor and three tigers was all that stood between him and the jungle and he was ready to go. So he grabbed his machete, cracked his bare toes against the dirt floor and took off! He took four swift bounding steps, leapt up toward the cave wall, pushed off of it with his right foot, nimble like a cat, and was over the tigers in an instant. He landed on his right foot outside the cave in a cold puddle that splashed muddy water over the king’s back and took off running into the wilderness chopping the thick brush with his machete as he went.
He could hear the tiger running after him as he went so he picked up the pace, now running faster than he even imagined he could. CRACK! He ran head first into a low hanging branch. The tiger caught up to him and he knew his life was about to end. His whole life flashed before his eyes. However, rather than ripping him apart with his massive fangs and claws, the tiger began batting him gently on the side of the head. He heard a familiar voice in the distance, “wake up Aidan, get up!”, and what sounded like laughter.
The jungle faded away and he sat up, shook his head and opened his eyes. He was laying supine next to his desk in the middle of a philosophy lecture and his best friend Leo was nervously tapping the side of his head with his foot. He was so deep in his dream that he fell out of his desk on to the floor only to wake up to a room full of snickering students, a glaring instructor, and the disappointment that he was still here in Plymouth rather than escaping from rogue tigers.
The teacher rattled on about Plato and ancient Greece while Sam continued to day dream from his favorite seat. He sat in the same place in the front row of the classroom every day; obviously not to impress his teachers. From there he could watch boats sailing in and out of port all day long, loading and unloading their cargo. He would contemplate where they had been and what exotic adventures they had undertaken in order to obtain and transport their precious goods; wishing he could trade his soft pale skin for their swarthy complexion and manly sea worthy build.
“Aidan, are you familiar with Plato’s Cardinal Virtues?” Mr. Holden, his teacher, interrupted his thoughts and stood over him with a smug look on his face awaiting his response.
“Well yes, of course I am,” replied Aidan somewhat sarcastically.
“Well would you care to inform the class what it is Plato spent his life teaching about? What was so important that we continue to read and learn it here some 2,100 years later?”
“Ok sir,” he paused as if he was in deep thought even though he knew the answer. “Plato discussed wisdom, justice, moderation, and courage.” He had read most of Plato’s work in his father’s print shop but didn’t care to discuss it with whom he considered a narrow minded arrogant professor.
“Well as a matter of fact that’s exactly right, Aidan,” cracked his professor, but before he even finished his sentence Aidan was already lost deep in thought.
Despite all his day dreaming and dozing off, Aidan somehow managed to remain a fairly good student. Math and science were never a problem for him. He had little esteem for his teacher’s opinions, but growing up as the son of a printer, he actually enjoyed reading about philosophy and history on his own. He was entertained by the idea of learning foreign languages, Latin and Spanish were second nature to him.
Before he knew it the lecture ended and the students gathered their belongings and took to the streets of Plymouth. Most would go home to their families to study and help around the house, others would go to the park to play cricket. Aidan and Leo spent most afternoons in the sailor’s pub.
“Mr. Holden really has it out for you doesn’t he, what did you do to him?” said Leo as they headed down the cobblestone street towards the wharf.
“I dunno, that guy is a real arse. I can’t stand those dim witted teachers and I can’t wait for school to be out. I still haven’t told my dad that I’m not going to work in the print shop, he’s gonna have a serious fit,” Said Aidan.
“I hope I’m not around these parts when he finds out. He’s going to be a mess when he finds out his smart son is taking off and leaving the family business to your twitty brother,”
“Oh come on Leo, Jeremiah isn’t so bad he’s just young that’s all,” said Aidan.
“Of course we can’t all be as smart as the great Aidan Sellick. Boy genius determined to boil his brain away in the hot sun on the high seas,” Leo swung open the door to the pub and bowed to let Aidan pass by,” after you Cap’n Sellick,” he mocked.
Aidan gave him a good solid slug in the shoulder as he walked by but Leo was so strong and sturdy he didn’t even shift. The two boys had been best friends since the dawn of time. They lived on the same block for seventeen years and did all their schooling together. They were a perfect match. Leo was by no means unintelligent, but he paled in comparison to Aidan who had always helped him get by when Leo’s efforts were less than adequate. He was smart, but Aidan was never any physical match for boys his age. Most of the men in his family were fairly large and burly, but for some reason he was always the scrawniest boy in his class which seemed to make him the target of a lot of adolescent anger. His size and strength never left him at a disadvantage though, Leo enjoyed a good roughhousing and was always at Aidan’s back if anyone ever bullied or tried to push him around.
They sat down at a table towards the back of the dark bar which was empty, with the exception of the bar maid, and an old deaf man who spent most of his time sitting in the corner rambling over a pint of beer about a big fish he caught once back in the day.
fun with fonts.
I write all the time so clearly someone has encouraged me to start a blog to get things moving. Here it is. Come visit! See what's up. I don't know how much I'll update it or what sort of theme it will take on. I love researching things and writing about them, so if there is something you are curious about or want me to spend my free time learning about let me know and I'll create a post just for you. Ok here it goes...
I have a few random essays and things I have written already saved on my computer so maybe I'll just post those first.
Peace.
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