Print is Dead: Books in Our Digital Age

Gillian Reagan, writing in the New York Observer this week, had an interesting article entitled “My Book Deal Ruined My Life.” The story deals with the trials and tribulations of being a writer today: dealing with writer’s block, how the advances that sound big really aren’t, and how not to lose your mind when working on a book for years at a time, not to mention that getting published by a major company may not be all it’s cracked up to be: “Indeed, securing a deal with one of the many esteemed editors at publishing houses like Knopf or Doubleday or FSG seems like fulfilling a kind of New York–specific American dream. Visions of six-figure contracts, KGB readings and TV appearances dance through writers’ heads. Even better: no more office, no more boss.” However, it doesn’t always work out for the best, and the article talks to many writers who have horror stories, including the bestselling Nathan Englander (pictured above at his pensive best).

But what struck me about the article is that what the writers are commenting on is not at all a new phenomenon. If you read George Gissing’s classic Victorian novel New Grub Street, which is about the plight of writers in the 19th century (and is to my mind still the best book ever written about the world of writers), you’ll hear much the same: it’s all about art versus commerce, competition for reviews, and the jealousy between writers when one makes it and another does not. And so what’s refreshing (well, kind of) is that — in a digital future — writers will still go through all of this. What will never change is the soul-searching and gut-wrenching process of creation; whether you’re writing by longhand, on a typewriter, or using a computer, the process of invention will always be difficult. And so while the business of books is undoubtedly changing, and the Internet is shaking up the hierarchy of the literary world, what will always remain a constant is what goes into the creation of a novel. Even if the printed format of the book goes away, the important part — the writer’s hopes and dreams — will always remain.

NY Observer: My Book Deal Ruined My Life