One of the issues that I have found – and I’d assume that it’s an issue that most readers find – is time. Specifically, finding it. We live in an age of television, games, music, websites that tell use things that we didn’t know we wanted to know and show us videos of things that we didn’t really want to see, but watch anyway. And, as people will always remind you if they sit on this side of the literary fence, what gets forgotten about is literature. It’s the one thing that, lets face it, hasn’t developed past its original format, and likely won’t, not for the foreseeable, at least. And, for most of us, we wouldn’t have it any other way. Whether it’s Andrew Marr trying out an e-reader or William Gibson likening books to the invention of the wheel, the traditional print novel is here to stay.
And we’re better for it, all told: we want, as we frequently remind people, the tactile sensation, the smell, the product. But then, what place does the internet have as a medium for offering literature? We can argue blind that it is a viable format, that is can run concurrently, that it has a place, but we’re never going to stop buying novels; we’re never going to want to download a file. And the same goes for writers. Despite what some might tell you, they want their book on a shelf. Even something as product-ambiguous as lulu.com doesn’t actually offer you the chance to see where your book fits alphabetically amongst all those other authors whose names you’ve seen your whole life. It doesn’t offer you the shelf in the shop.
But, time. Back to time. Time is what holds us back. I have hundreds and hundreds of books on my shelves. I would estimate that around 5% of them have never been read. Of that 5%, I reckon I’ll never get around to reading half of them. If we assume I have a thousand books, that 5% is 50 books, that half 25. 25 books I will never read. Why? I’d put it down to time, if I were pushed to make an excuse for it. Those novels, for the most part, are classics. They are Henry James or Thomas Hardy or Robert Louis Stevenson, novels that I purchased on a whim because I thought, “Well, I really should read that someday”, and they’ve just sat there. I feel like I’ve read them. I feel like I’ve read Gulliver’s Travels, like I’ve read Frankenstein. I haven’t, though I would, were it just for the time. I have time to read, but I read other things, more modern things. I read those things that I think I should catch up with.
And of course, time plays into all of our lives. We sit at work and kill it, watch it drift past as we wait to do something other than sit. I’ve seen people in offices notably perk up when their inbox swells. They suddenly have something to read, and everything, for a few minutes, is alright. So, it was only a matter of time before some bright spark mixed the two ideas together. “Why not read a novel,” they thought, “over email?” And they weren’t thinking about writing something epistolary, or creating some ARG/Novel hybrid that you got emailed every day. They were thinking about taking classic novels, open source, and emailing them to you. This is Dailylit.com.
This is a free service, and that’s fantastic. It isn’t charged for, and they’ve done it because they want people to read, I assume. But what they do is chop up the novel into chunks, each of around 700 words, and then end that chunk at the most convenient full-stop. You, as the reader, choose what time of day you would like these chunks emailed to you, and you receive the email, open it, read your 700 words and then stop. That’s your reading done for the day. [I've based this on my own subscription to War Of The Worlds, incidentally, which I've never gotten around to reading, and certainly won't in damned emails.]
These novels are all open source, all the sort of thing you can download for free for yourself over the net. But you don’t want to do that: you don’t want to be in control of how much you read, of where your natural stops are. You don’t want to follow the author’s guidelines, actually let the book ebb and flow naturally. You want to let somebody else – or, I’m assuming, a computer – chop chunks out for you, and throw it at you, allowing you to fulfill your remit of daily literature as if it is your 5 portions of fruit and veg.
I’m not getting at DailyLit specifically: I think it’s a good idea, just poorly implemented. And maybe theirs is a plan to harness the technology early, to sell their idea to a publishing house. A digression: it’s becoming more and more common for LPs – as in, the old-style records – to come with a code that can be entered onto a website to download MP3s of the album. It’s a great idea – five the consumer the best of both worlds. They bought the album, they own the album – make it easy on them to listen to the album. Why doesn’t the same apply to books? When you buy a novel, wouldn’t it be a breeze to enter a code onto a website and download a locked PDF file of the novel? That way you could do with it what you liked. Stick it on a pen drive to read at work on your lunch break, put it on your phone to read on the train, even maybe use it in an e-reader. As companies search for ways to persuade us to buy their technologically advanced ‘books without pages’, if we, as readers, had immediate access to something(s) to read on them, we might be more inclined to act as purchasers. If I knew that I could still buy my holiday books – say, six books – and have the paper editions on my shelves whilst only taking away my e-reader, well, that might just persuade me.
DailyLit are giving away, free, what is also available elsewhere for free. That’s fine. But they are chopping up the text and making it an edit that the authors never intended, and that will never absolutely fulfill the reader. Download these things yourself, in full. Visit Project Gutenberg and grab yourself those books that you never saw yourself reading. But find the time to actually read them. Dickens was never meant to be read whilst you try and cram in twenty other things; he was meant to be read in a nice chair, comfy and free of distractions. Even if you’re reading it on your laptop screen, find the damn time.
*****
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