TMI?

TMI usually refers to the phenomenon of someone sharing far more of the intimate details of one’s love life (or child’s potty training!) than the listener wants to hear. A book I’m currently reading makes me wish there was a way I could say to a writer, “TMI!” or “give me the condensed version”. Maybe there will be a way to do that some day with digital books.

The book I’m reading explores fifty years of British history concerning their relationship with the rest of Europe through the eras of successive prime ministers. On the one hand, I can see the value of a detailed record of all the negotiations and political intrigue of various leaders, particularly because this is based upon first-person interviews. On the other hand, the author spends 500+ pages ringing the changes on a very simple theme–the approach-avoidance conflict Great Britain has with the rest of Europe.

So, the question is, how much is too much? I personally find myself getting lost at times in the parade of background political figures that troop through the pages and all their intrigues and interactions. For me, a survey of a couple hundred pages would have been sufficient–I’m not sure I will walk away any more enlightened for all the extra material. Yet I am sure there are others who study such things in greater depth (although the book is not an ‘academic’ work) who would probably find all this fascinating.

So these leaves me wondering how authors, editors, and publishers decide this question with a given book. How do you say to an author that something needs paring down? And how do you make those judgments? Is it purely financial factors of cost and projected sales? I’ve not worked in the publishing world but would love to hear from those who know more of this how such things get decided.

Where Will All The Print Books Go?

The demise of print books came up in an after hours discussion with colleagues last night. What I sometimes wonder is where will all those books, much less National Geographics go? I suppose they could go into landfills. Print books are biodegradable objects, after all, apart from plastic coatings sometimes used on covers. I suspect some do end up there.

For now, lots either reside on shelves collecting dust and slowly yellowing and becoming more brittle, or they re-circulate via garage sales, donations to various second hand shops or sales to used book stores. The last tends to be where a number of the books I don’t want to keep go–that or donations to local library book sales.

But all of this assumes a healthy market of print book readers. What will happen when these go away? Where will all the print books go when no one is buying (or wants, even for free) print books. Will they all go to landfills or incinerators? Or will they go the way of vinyl LPs–surviving because of the small dedicated cadre of people who still love the feel, look, and even smell of a print book. Maybe there will even be bibliophiles who consider the experience of a print book superior and there may even be niche print publishers who release “virgin” print books on high quality papers and bindings. Wouldn’t it be ironic if in twenty years a new generation of people rediscover print books and become “analogue” readers?

Stranger things have happened…