Monday 22 June 2015

To 'e' or not to 'e'; why is that the question?


My novel “The Excalibur Parchment” was published in print last November. In late January it became available as an Ebook on Kindle, Kobo, Nook and other digital platforms.
It has been interesting to see the reaction. Some have told me that they held back buying the book until it was available digitally.
Others swear that they will never go the ebook route. Print books, they say, will never die on you from low batteries or from coffee dropped on them. And you can store them on shelves ready to read any time you want. Plus there’s something special about the ability to handle (fondle?) hard copies of books, underline in them and treasure them. Lastly, you actually own and can resell your book if you want whereas ebooks are really only technical licenses to read. You don’t own that copy you bought on Kindle, you only lease it for (usually) a five year period.
Conversely, the ebook argument says that you can store your books just as easily and a whole lot more conveniently. You don’t need miles and miles of shelving (which I confess, I do) to store your books. You can carry a whole library of books on a plane to take on vacation with you and it only takes a miniscule amount of your precious luggage space. And there’s a privacy about what you are reading (you can read that trashy romance novel in your lunchtime and nobody is the wiser).
There are lots of arguments pro and con.  And believers in both argue strenuously that their way is the only way to do it; that their particular choice of reading format is the one that is paramount and thus applies to everyone.
I wonder why? If someone prefers ebooks, why must I march in lockstep with that mentality? Must I now divest myself of all my books for a digital future? And if I do, will that format be superseded in five or ten years by a new as yet unknown technology.
Conversely, if a keep to print only, am I a Luddite dropping farther and farther back into irrelevance and out of touch with the march of progress and technology?
The choice—to E or not to E—seems to be there for my decision.
Why?
Certainly the digital format has advantages. An ebook reader, as I noted previously, is a lot easier to tote around than ten or twenty books. They are also (generally) cheaper than their print counterpart.  
A friend once boasted to me that digital books are actually an ecological salvation. Think of the hundred of trees you are saving by not needing paper, he argued. Really? And what about the rare (and sometimes toxic) materials and petroleum needed to manufacture the ebook reader? And the energy needed to constantly recharge the batteries, not to mention the toxicity and danger of the batteries themselves. I have read unsubstantiated stories of people who fell asleep with their mobile devices turned on only to discover that the heat from the device had melted and burned the sheets and pillows overnight.
If I fall asleep reading my paperback, it is still there in the morning alive and well and ready for reading.
But digital devices are convenient, I give you that.
The trouble is, I don’t understand the ‘either one or the other’ arguments coming from both parties. Why is it essential that I embrace the digital format entirely and forsake print from this point forward? Or, why must I be in fact, a luddite huddled in my library, surrounded by acres and acres of books eschewing technology and deriding those who disagree.
It seems to be a common element in today’s society not matter what the area of disagreement. It is all or nothing. You either agree with one side or the other; no middle ground. It applies to politics,
I have run into and debated with young pastors who have embraced the digital world to the exclusion of all else. In fact they sneer at anyone who still uses such mundane tools as pens, paper, books and library research. It’s online or nothing for them. I have also run into older curmudgeons who refuse to go online, sneer at the internet and brag that they never bother with email. I shake my head in frustration at both attitudes.
I confess that I am a died-in-the-wool centrist. I see, understand and accept all arguments on both sides of the ebook disagreement. I have a digital device. I read books on that device and appreciate all its fine points. I have thousands of print books (literally) in my library and I love them. I research for my books online and I also turn to libraries, bookstores and Amazon.
I was really chuffed, to use that hardy British expression, when my book first arrived at my house in print format. I picked it up, flipped through its pages, felt its heft, smoothed my fingers over the cover and generally loved it. (I may even have hugged it). But at the same time, I ensured that it also became available in as many digital formats as possible.  
Let’s face it, my protagonist from the 14th Century may have preferred print. But my 21st Century characters used the power of modern technology for both good and evil.
So I am happy in both worlds, digital and paper.
I just don’t understand why the question to 'e' or not to e' even exists.
In response, I’m going to post this blog online and promote it via Facebook and Twitter et al. I will also print out a hard copy for my files.
So there!

Friday 12 June 2015

The Curse of Broadcasting--Evan Sokomon, Leslie Roberts and ethics





The field of broadcasting took another hit recently. 
Evan Solomon host of CBC’s Power and Politics and CBC Radio’s The House has fallen from grace, fired by the Mother Corporation for a monumental lapse in journalistic ethics. He follows NBC’s Brian Williams, Global TV’s Lesley Roberts and CBC’s Jian Ghomeshi. You can add to that the names of former CTV news personalities Mike Duffy and Pam Wallin who are embroiled in their own little boondoggle on Parliament Hill. Evan Solomon’s fall from grace was massive in particular, since he was touted as a replacement for CBC Anchor Peter Mansbridge if and when Mansbridge retires. (And Mansbridge has skirted the ethics line as well).
As a former reporter for several major newspapers and magazines in Canada and the United States I grieve. Not because I cared for any of them. I didn’t even know them. No, I grieve for the damage that has been done to journalists in general because these celebrity journalists/broadcasters crapped all over ethics. (Interestingly, so far as I know none of them attended journalism school and Williams was a college dropout. Too bad. They obviously missed Ethics 101.)
Public disapproval of journalism is growing. People today want to be told what they want to hear. They don’t want journalists or broadcasters who shine lights where darkness abides. They don’t want to know about the misdoings of politicians (unless they are of the other party, of course). Joe Public has no idea what good journalists really do and how vital they are in the ongoing struggle of free and democratic living in society. Hundreds of journalists have been killed or imprisoned over the last decade—mostly for simply doing their job of asking penetrating and sometimes embarrassing questions or pointing a camera at some illegal or hush-hush activity.
Journalism is one of the least admired professions in North America. To my mind, the uphill struggle that decent journalists and broadcasters fight daily is undermined kicked about by the activities of Solomon et al. 
I put some of it down to the curse of broadcasting and the cult of celebrity. (Some of them--Ghomeshi for example--are just plain evil, twisted people).These men (and woman) all were endowed with massive egos. They were the “stars” in their respective universes. People kowtowed to them. Their bosses looked the other way when they slung their weight around and abused staff below them. Their aura of entitlement, fanned into an inferno by sycophantic bosses, knew no bounds. Their position was, for most of them, a means to an end. And the end was the lining and relining of their bottomless pockets and exploiting their position and celebrity status for personal greed and gain. (Williams at least eschewed that: he merely opted for plain lies about his exploits).
The public points fingers and gloats that their views about journalists are justified. And all the while, good journalists—many of whom work for a barely liveable wage—continue doing their job honestly and with integrity.
The broadcasters of ego are still alive and kicking in spite of the pubic disgrace suffered by their colleagues. Too many broadcasters are more interested in covering Bruce Jenner who changes gender or the latest exploits of the Khardasians (Side note: can anyone explain to me why these people are ‘famous’?) than they are of covering matters of import that affect the health, economic well-being, security and freedom of citizens.
The ink-stained wretches of the print world (of whom I was one) are no stranger to misdeeds. Pulitzer prizes have been removed and reporters fired for ethics breaches in the past and will, no doubt, in the future as well. However, most of those misdeeds were done in a smaller world and the damaging impact certainly was and is not as great even for such major newspapers as the Globe and Mail, New York Times, Washington Post and Rupert Murdoch’s corrupt newspaper empire in the UK.
But the curse of broadcasting is a heavier burden to bear. These finagling broadcasters are personalities; you bring them into your house every evening. You see their faces, hear their voices and realize that they project an aura of friendliness, sincerity, truthfulness and authority. When they fall, they fall big! And when they fall big they cause massive waves in the ocean of journalism.
These people were celebrities. They were pandered to and convinced that they were superior because they brought in huge ratings and therefore dollars to their employers. The rules of the game did not apply to them; they were above it all. Ghomeshi, Roberts and Solomon all had contracts with their employers which included standards of conduct and ethics! But the “nudge, nudge, wink, wink” prevailing attitude allowed them to ignore those troubling clauses.
The curse of broadcasting is an era of instant news and blanket coverage of events highlights the push for speed over accuracy and fairness. The curse of broadcasting favours a cult of celebrity and ‘pretty faces’ over professionalism. The curse of broadcasting is the aura of entitlement that applies only so some in the newsroom—the “stars”—and not the hardworking ethical reporters in their newsrooms or studios.

I grieve for journalism. I was taught and mentored by some of the finest editors and broadcasters around in Canada and the United States. I have enormous respect for such CBC personalities as Bruce Rogers who I claim as a friend and colleague. I learned a lot about honest practical ethical behaviour and professionalism from him and my late friend, CTV Anchor Harvey Kirck. There are others to whom I am indebted; some I know personally and some I merely watched and studied from afar.
All of us are damaged and our professionalism diminished by the curse brought crushingly down on our heads by Solomon, Ghomeshi, Roberts, Duffy, Wallin and Williams and their ilk.

Oh for the days of Walter Cronkite and Lloyd Robertson, "And that's the way it is!"

Monday 1 June 2015

Vive les bookstores!


Where would you live, if you could live anywhere?
The options are numerous: beachfront living beside the sea, cabin in the mountains, ore a condo in the heart of a thriving metropolis with theatres and nightlife.
If I had my choice, however, it would be any of those as long as a well-rounded bookshop was available nearby. I love bookstores. I love the excitement of the hunt when I have no particular book in mind, and I wander the aisles looking at the huge variety available to me. Do I want a rollicking good story to take me on adventures in far-away places of universes? Or would I prefer a good non-fiction to explain history, science, politics or humans to me? Or perhaps a self-help book to aid me as I overcome my addiction to books. I can find them all in a bookstore.
Come to think of it, my favourite town in the world has to be Hay-on-Wye, a little Welsh village close to the border with England. Hay is known as the town of bookshops. Everywhere you go throughout the village you run into bookstores. They range from high-priced antiquarian shops where you can see and (if you have enough money) buy fabulous old books, ancient but loaded with both meaning and purpose. The smell of old leather and pages permeates your senses as you lovingly stand there. Across the way and stretching down the roads in all directions are more bookstores with reasonably priced new and used books.  The interesting thing is that there is nary a gift idea display in sight. Nothing but books. Shelves and shelves of books. Wonderful! Even the town castle is a bookstore that demands hours of exploring. Even the castle walls house more shelves of books, this time available to buy on the honour system.
Here at home we have no town that compares. But there are still excellent bookstores available to browse and explore. Sure, the massive book/gift stores are around. But look carefully around your community and region and you will no doubt find an independent bookstore owned by a well read individual who knows his or her stock intimately and who loves to talk about books and reading.
My wife knows that our various shopping expeditions, whether at a mall or in a small town, usually means she’s off on her own looking around while I aim directly for the closest bookstore.
I get that many today are enamoured with books on tablets. Sure it may be convenient. And yes, you can “pack” hundreds of books for a trip in one tablet while I, restricted by the airlines, struggle to carry five or six with me. But my books don’t have batteries that fail. I don’t need to recharge my book every few hours. Plus I have the enjoyment of finding new books, holding them, and then taking them with me. I don’t have to download them anywhere and get that horrible “error 401” message. Nope, I can walk into a bookstore and spend a happy hour or three finding new treasures to read and then walk out with them in my hand.
But the biggest joy of a bookstore is simply being around other book lovers. I have a wonderful local independent bookstore, The Reading Room, in Penetanguishine. What fun to talk books with the owner, Debbie Levy. Or when I am in Toronto, to haunt the shelves of The Sleuth on Baker Street and get the latest info on mysteries and suspense from the knowledgeable staff. And there are other browsers, young and old, to talk to and exchange verbal reviews and recommendations.
I despise the Walmarts and supermarkets for whom books are just another product, right up there with lettuce, tomatoes and soup. No heart. No feeling. No appreciation.
I tip my hat to companies like Chapters and Indigo in Canada, Barnes and Noble in the US and Waterstones and W.H. Smith in the UK. The big chains offer the masses exposure to the latest best sellers. They are, hopefully, developing new readers even if great chunks of their floor space is given over to cutesy pillows, bric a brac and other non-book paraphernalia. At least they care about books.
But I take my hat off to the small, independent and sometimes boutique bookstores around the world. I found one in Llantwit Major in South Wales. I found another in Winchester, England and in Hampstead in London, along with many others. I have found them in Alexandria and Williamsburg, Virginia, the sun coast of Florida and the Jersey shore among others. independents are a shrinking breed, but they are hardy. They will survive. They are hidden treasure houses waiting to be discovered, hiding in your backyard.
So I share this paean of praise to bookstores. Seek them out. Spend time in them. Go in with no set agendas and no specific book purchases in mind. Just find them and enjoy. You won’t regret it.