About a week ago, when I wanted to try out Amazon’s new bookerly font, I went searching for my Kindle Paperwhite and realized the battery was dead; I hadn’t used it in weeks. Yet in those weeks, I had read several e-books and a plethora of articles – just not on my e-reader. I realized I did most of my reading on my phone.
In a Nielsen survey of 2,000 people this past December, about 54% of e-book buyers said they used smartphones to read their books at least some of the time. That’s up from 24% in 2012, according to a separate study commissioned by Nielsen.
The number of people who read primarily on phones has risen to 14% in the first quarter of 2015 from 9% in 2012.
Can social media and books go together? Recent writers have said no, but I hold out hope for digital social reading.
For a while now, I have hoped for a time when e-books were fully social: that reading is a participatory social act, not a solitary experience, when we want it to be. With current e-reader and tablet technology, this goal seems possible. Why not incorporate tools that allow readers to hold book clubs, communal reading projects, or classroom discussions right from the book, a sort of digital Junto? In theory, you could read a book and participate in a book club or MOOC-like literature class without leaving your e-reader. Your book, then, would also be your social media platform for participation.
It’s November, and that means new studies on digital reading and NaNoWriMo craziness.
There’s a new study out, showing the rise of reading on tablets. While the Kindle still remains popular – and e-book reading, in general, continues to rise – more people intend to purchase an iPad or other tablet.
Three excellent books that help us understand what many call the golden age of television.
Many TV critics say we’ve reached the golden age of television, and shows like Mad Men and Breaking Bad help prove this. If you haven’t seen either of these shows, go binge-watch them on Netflix right now. Come back a week later, and read these books for some great analysis.
Let’s face it: there’s a lot of information and discussion about the future of publishing, books and reading. It’s hard to keep up. Even though I write about the future of the book on this blog, it’s impossible for me to cover everything.
Today, I’d like to start what I hope will become a regular feature: Tuesday Books. This feature is a roundup of the best new books on digital publishing and the future of the book.
Let’s stop saying that e-books lack the good feelings we associate with print books and enjoy reading again.
One of the arguments against e-books is that because they lack physicality, they don’t have the same character as print books. Many readers associate the smell of the pages, feel of the book, and even the cover design with good memories and say this can’t be replicated on an e-reader.
“…the complexity of assigned texts has sharply declined, from about [grade] 9.0 in the early 20th century to just over 6.0 in the early 21st century. This finding echoes other studies that have concerned policy makers about whether students are presented with sufficiently challenging material to help them prepare for college and career.”
Scary, right? American students are reading at a sixth grade level and are not leaving school ready for college. No doubt this issue must be addressed in our schools.
Today I return to a topic that has interested me for a while: what is the role of deep, immersive reading in the digital age? Why is deep reading important when everything is available online and readers can skim ideas quickly?
In three weeks, I move across the country to a house near Kissimmee, Florida. My wife and I are starting over, and for the first time in my life, I’m not holding on to anything except the essentials for work and life. We’re hoping to take only what can fit in two cars.
This has meant we’ve had to sell or give away many nonessential stuff: old clothes, DVDs, CDs, and most importantly, our large book collection. We had collected over 500 books. Yesterday, we gave away the last box.
Preparing for this move has me thinking about all the stuff I’ve accumulated over the years and how much of it is meaningless to me. While those 500+ books looked nice on my shelf, I only returned to about a dozen of them regularly. So why keep all of this stuff?
At one point, I saw these books as a record of what I’ve read. They represented a part of me: first, through my time as an undergrad and later as a graduate student. Some of these books go back to my childhood. These books reminded me of the things I’d learned over the years. A lot of them had notes and marginalia in them that I wanted to keep.
I also bought a lot of books I never read. Those were on my shelves, waiting to be read, but I always told myself I’d get to them eventually. I had to realize that I won’t read most of them any time soon.
At first, I felt a sense of loss after getting rid of these books. But now I realize how little I needed them since I do a lot of my reading through digital devices. Access to books through my library and through my Kindle have meant I haven’t needed to keep books like I used to.
During this process, I realized that most of these books were bought over a year ago. I just don’t buy as many books as I used to. That’s not to say I don’t believe in the physical book any more. I don’t subscribe to the idea that ebooks and digital reading will completely replace the book — at least not for a while.
I just don’t need a lot of space for books any more. Many of the books I owned are available online, either through elibraries or through sites like Project Gutenberg. For newer books, I am OK with repurchasing them once I move to Florida and find a local bookshop.
What I will miss the most — at least, more than the books themselves — are the conversations over books with friends. Luckily this is something I can find anywhere I live, but it’s not as easily replaceable as the books themselves.
As I move toward a digital collection, I wonder about book discovery: I’ve always used my local library and bookshops to discover new books. I find out about books from close friends more than I do from online communities. Apps like Goodreads try to recreate discoverability, but they are far from complete. Finding a good book, reading the back cover blurbs, and asking your friends if they’ve heard of it can’t be replicated online.
The physical book is here to stay, and even though my personal library is gone, I will rebuild it over time. If sites like Bookshelf Porn [don’t worry, it’s safe for work] are any clue into book culture, I think it’s here to stay for a while. Digital books are convenient and work for me, but the physical book is still important to me. We’ll see what the future holds.