Writers
and Technology – Now and Then
(A talk given at a
meeting of the Australian Society of Authors in Castlemaine, October 25, 2014)
The crime writer Val Mcdermid
said at this year’s Sydney Writers’ Festival that publishing today is so very
different from what it was twenty years ago that if she had been starting out
now she reckons would not have had a career as a writer. Why? Because today a
writer really has to have a big success with the first book. Otherwise there
won’t be a second book. Game over. There is no sense, as there once was, of a
writer having time to build skills with experience. She described it as
‘hitting the ground running’ – that’s what you have to do now. In other words,
if you don’t prove yourself marketable on Bookscan to begin with, you won’t get
another contract. There was a time when publishers were the nurturers of
writers. Perhaps they have handed that responsibility over to writing courses.
There are ways around this of
course, but it’s basically true, and I think it’s probably what drives
publishing today. The values are different from what they were. It is a
different industry.
We can discuss the various avenues
to publishing today – you will probably know things that I don’t know. But I
understand that audiences like to hear the personal stories of writers’
histories of writing and publishing. So that’s what I will talk about.
Somebody asked me recently how
many of my books are still in print. I hadn’t thought about that for a while,
but when I did, I realized that out of the thirty books I have written, nine
are in print. On paper, between covers. I wonder if that’s good or bad. There
are some ebooks – I’ve lost track, and also some audiobooks. Yes, I have lost
track. Of course I shouldn’t have lost track, should I? Am I unprofessional or
just bewildered by the rush of change in the publishing industry over the past
ten years?
Much of what I will say here
amounts to a reflection on how things are as against how things used to be. I
realise that is probably just an old person’s way of looking at life, but I
also think that in the matter of writing fiction and so on, it’s possibly a
quite interesting and revealing way to go. We’ll see.
Maybe writing fiction is a bit
like knitting in that the basic stitches remain the same no matter what the
technology does, and no matter how the patterns change. Am I being too fanciful?
Anway, when anyone thinks about
writing and publishing these days they probably think about technology. I
realise they also think about writing courses and agents and publishers and
festivals and prizes and grants. Or they should. And about plots and characters
and so forth. But mostly I think the mind flies to the possibilities of the
computer, the internet, the blogs, the ipad, the iphone – and swiftly to social
media – how facebook and twitter and all the rest will work in the service of
the publication of whatever it is you write. Sometimes it looks as if the paper
book might be in the service of the social media. Rather than the other
way round. The Australian Society of Authors figures in this too – they are an
important part of the background (or is it the foreground?) for writers in
Australia today.
Before I wrote a word of this
talk, I tweeted about it. So before the fact of the thing, before it even
existed on my screen, I let people know when and where it would be delivered. If
I tweet about it, it must be true. You think? With the help of twitter and my
imagination, all this came into being.
You will have noticed that in my
lists of things people think about when they think about writing, I have really
said almost nothing about writing and nothing at all about reading. Do they
matter? I think they do. Maybe they don't. They used to. Bear with me – I’m a
little bit old-fashioned. I love reading and I love writing – it’s just
personal.
Children today have a fairly
clear idea of how books come into being. As a child, I needed to figure it out,
because I had an ambition to write books. I wrote a lot with a pencil in spiral
bound books, until, for my seventeenth birthday I got a typewriter. The latest
technology – a red Olivetti letter writer. I don’t have it any more, but I have
its successor which is a grey-green Olivetti letter writer in a carry case. I
think the same model was used in the movie of The Talented Mr Ripley which was
set in the late 1950s. I taught myself to type from Pitman’s Business
Typewriting. I don’t know how I found the time, really. I was on holidays from
university, working in an ice cream factory by day and a café by night. Yet
every day I worked on my typing. No social life. No apps.
Today children learn to use a
keyboard and all the rest around the age of two.
There’s an exhibition at the
State Library – Mirror of the World – where you can explore the evolution of
books and printing – from cuneiform writing onwards – from clay tablets to
vellum to paper. There’s a bookshop in Dorset where people can leave reviews on
a typewriter. Yes, it’s a second hand bookshop, Wild and Homeless Books. And in
Toronto The Monkey’s Paw – also a second hand bookshop – sells typewriters as
well as books.
Today’s readers take paperback
books for granted, as they take ebooks too for granted – and then there’s a
distinct movement today towards producing books as works of art. The latest
novel by Ian McEwan (The Children Act) was produced in a limited edition (as
well as a regular edition) and I thought the advertisement for it in the London
Review of Books read like an hilarious parody from a novel about novels (of
which there are many). It goes like this:
‘This is a special limited
edition of the Children Act signed by the author before publication, comprising
100 copies only, printed in Logan Book Wove 150gsm paper. Seventy-five are
quarter-bound in Kaduna Green Nigerian Goatskin, the sides letter-press printed
on Passport Sage Felt with a design by Edward Bawden and numbered one to 75. Twenty-five
copies, numbered 1 to 25, are fully bound in the same leather and contain 3
facsimile pages of notebook manuscript and one page of hand corrected
typescript from an early draft of the novel. All copies have head and tail
bands, coloured tops and endpapers, and are contained in a suedel-lined
slipcase, also featuring the Bawden design.’
The full leather ones had already
sold out by the time the advertisement appeared. Suedel, by the way, is
imitation suede.
It’s a long way from an ebook –
which is of course also available. Forget the Kaduna Green Nigerian Goatskin to
put in your glass fronted bookcase or atmosphere controlled safe. Just swipe
the screen like everybody else.
From the high high hilarious end
of today’s publishing – back to the girl in the ice cream factory learning to
type and continuing to read.
Of course there was no such thing
as a Young Adult Book when I was a young adult. Young adults were just people
who might be reading Wuthering Heights and Pride and Prejudice and so on. P.G.
Wodehouse and Charles Dickens and Rudyard Kipling and Agatha Christie and James
Thurber. Lewis Carroll, Kenneth Graham, Enid Blyton of course. Richmal
Crompton. The Brothers Grimm. So writers such as those were my models and
inspiration, more or less. Meanjin existed but I didn’t know. Australian
fiction – well I remember reading Thomas Keneally and Patrick White and
Ernestine Hill and Ruth Park. Before all that I read Wind in the Willows, Alice
in Wonderland and the William books. I didn’t have Australian children’s books
for some reason. Imagine, no Snugglepot or Cuddlepie. I lived in Tasmania – it
was I think more connected to England than to Australia. Also, my family used
to get the Saturday Evening Post from America – as well as the Illustrated
London News.
I had a few short stories
published in places such as the Herald Sun (true) and the Women’s Weekly. But
it wasn’t until the late eighties, (still using typewriters and paper and
carbon copies) when publishing in Australia was graced by the presence of
McPheeGribble, that I had a collection of stories published. Also, writing by
women was being taken more seriously, and there was miraculous support from the
Federal Labor Government there for a while.
There were no university courses
in writing, really nowhere that one could look for guidance. There were small
societies of writers – but I didn't really get into any of that. I just did
whatever I thought might work. Enter competitions, submit to magazines. Work it
out for yourself. Hope for the best. The ASA has existed since 1963, but I
didn’t know that then.
What has happened since then is
that writing fiction in Australia – which is mainly what I do – has become an
industry. Adelaide Writers’ Week began in 1960 – a kind of marker, I think, for
a certain leap forward in Australian literature. The Australia Council for the
Arts was founded in 1967. Manning Clark published the first of his six volume
History of Australia in 1962.
You can see then that the 1960s
were a time of great significance for literature in this country. The Miles
Franklin Prize was first awarded in 1957. Awards also are a marker in the
history of writing and publishing. Nowadays there are too many awards to count.
Is that good or bad? I don’t know.
Personally, I was really just
working away and stumbling along until the publication of my collection of stories
with McPhee Gribble in 1987, when I really began to be aware of what was
possible. That’s nearly thirty years ago.
Some of the things I observed and
was affected by in that time – in 1990 I was sent by the Australia Council to
do a college residency in Florida. There I learned to use bitnet, a primitive
form of the internet, in order to keep in touch with a friend in Melbourne.
This meant I had to learn really quickly how to use a computer. The computers
were in a basement room at the university. They were large clumsy things, and
my conversations via bitnet did not come up on the screen, they were printed
out on continuous sheets of paper. Here are some. They went on for miles. When
I got them out of the filing cabinet, I had a horrible feeling they might have
faded like old faxes, but lo and behold, they haven’t.
I did learn how to use a
computer.
I have assembled, along with the
Florida emails, a very little museum of technology for you. It emphasizes the
physicality of things.
Here is my old typewriter.
Here are the covers of some of my
books.
Here is a book that had to be
torn up (more of that later)
Here is a typewritten manuscript.
Here is an audio book – this one
is on tapes – imagine – but I do also have them on discs.
I planned to bring a CD-Rom that
accompanied my novel Red Shoes in 1998. I couldn’t find a copy of the CD-Rom. It
no longer works in any machine anyway. Although the novel is out of print, it
is of course still possible to read the book. That is one of the beauties of the
old technology of print on paper. Bits of the CD are still on my old website.
You can go to my current website
if you like and click on a line that says: click here to go to the older site
content. There you will find my old website – a primitive thing – that went up
in 1998. I believe it was the first website of an Australian fiction writer. And
of course now just having a website is so yesterday.
This brings me to the thing about
books in print.
The one that has the most
interesting history, I think, is Dear Writer.
This manual for writers was first
published by McPhee Gribble in 1988. In 2013 it was out of print but people
kept asking me where they could get it. So I decided to turn it into an ebook.
How naïve I was.
I will give you the short version
of the story.
The file of the original proofs
had not survived the various transfers from one computer to another. I realised
I would first need to scan the text. It so happened that I had only one copy in
my possession. If I tore it apart for the purpose of scanning, I would end up
with no copies at all. It seemed wrong not to have at least one copy of my own
book. You’d think that I could find one somewhere, at least online, but no.
Although there were plenty of copies in Indonesian. So I persuaded a friend to
relinquish her copy. The process of scanning, while being perhaps elegant and
astonishing, was tedious. As the book on my left shrank page by page and the
pile of loose pages on my right grew, the data on my laptop lay in between the
two.
But that was only the beginning
really. I had then to convert the scanned pages into a Word file. I am not
gifted or practised in the use of the technology. But I got a program and set
about the conversion, and I nearly went mad with frustration and despair. It
was all TOO HARD.
Yet somehow, I actually did it. I
don’t really understand how.
When the scanned pages at last
became a file, I began an exhaustive revision of the text. While the basics of
writing fiction remain constant, the vast and rapid changes and developments in
technology, publishing, and teaching had to be acknowledged, reflected and
addressed in the new version of the book. After all, today people write novels
on twitter. The notion of writing letters is now quaint in its formality, but
to abandon it would mean losing the tone of the book, and it was this tone that
students and readers found particularly helpful and engaging. I say ‘readers’
because this is a book that can be read as a piece of fiction as well as a
manual of instruction. It isn’t simply a matter of tone; Dear Writer is an enactment of its own principles. Interestingly,
people frequently refer to Dear Writer
as Dear Reader. I assume they feel
the text speaks to them, that they, the readers, are the writer being
addressed.
There are two characters in this
book: Writer and Virginia. Writer is a middle-aged woman living somewhere in
rural Australia and writing short stories which she sends to Virginia for
assessment. The readers of Dear Writer
never see the script of the story under review, but must build it up in their
imaginations. There are no letters from Writer. Only letters from Virginia to
Writer. Because the characters are of their time, which was long ago in 1988,
they think about the virtues of writing with pens compared with working on a
typewriter, and then on a computer. I remember being resistant to the image of
the old Royal typewriter on the cover of one edition of the book, because I
thought it was suggesting the text was nostalgic and ossified. Yet people said
they loved the image. The cover of another version was never admired by anyone
I ever heard of; it suggests, with its blood red woman at a typewriter, that
writing fiction is something to do with menstruation.
You can see some of the problems
that changes in technology have introduced to the revision and re-presentation
of a book like this. Often when I see the phrase ‘changes in technology’, the
image of Tess of the d’Urbervilles comes to mind; that tragic emblem of a young
woman trapped in social revolution, destroyed. Writing, revising takes courage;
I am brave enough to do this.
I had a sense, as I worked on Dear
Writer Revisited, that something dramatic and revolutionary was happening
to books generally, and that ‘publication’ was not a term that served the
purpose.
I considered the fact that most
of the students of writing today are very young, that they use social media,
that they are probably keen to by-pass traditional publishing, that traditional
publishing is also morphing even I sat here at my laptop, that those young
students of writing were probably writing novels with their forefingers and
thumbs on their iPhones, that possibly anything Virginia might say to Writer
about, say, the agreement of a verb with its subject, was not going to matter
to anybody much.
Yet I know that it does matter,
and that it will continue to matter. I am not talking about rigidity and
inflexibility and fossilisation, but about clarity and freedom. The more you
know about how language behaves, the better equipped you are to use it, the
more power you have over your own thoughts and ideas. Not so long ago I was
teaching a university course. At the end of the second session I asked the
students what areas of writing they would like me to cover in the course. They
asked me to teach them grammar. In the early nineties when I was at the college
in Florida, the students wrote all their work, including their journals, on
computers. A group of them came to me after class and said they were going to
England for a semester and would have to write their journals by hand – this
being long before the development of the laptop etc. They asked me to teach
them how to do that. I know, and not just from those examples, that the things
Virginia and Writer are able to convey are still important to people learning
to write fiction, and I was keen to re-fashion the book in such a way that the
original flavour would be preserved, while the nature of the world into which
it would go continued to change.
The challenges I faced in the
making the ebook were not just those presented by the current technologies, or
by the changes in publishing, or the changes in hardware and software, but the
changes in the whole climate and make-up of readers and students and writers
themselves.
I thought that by the time the
ebook was done, ebooks might be obsolete, might be the luxury houses built on
the edge of the cliff, only to disappear beneath the waves as the level of the
sea rises in the heat of the blazing sun.
Anyway, now I was ready to meet
the technology of the ebook. Ready, it turns out, but not really quite able. I
had to admit that I could not do this alone, and searched for support and help.
There are websites offering methods and varying levels of support, but it was
clear to me that they were not going to be my thing. There are of course people
who can just get in and take up the challenge of the technology and produce
their own ebooks. I was not one of those.
With the conversion to scans and
then into Word, I think I did quite well for someone who didn’t know what they
were doing.
Ebook help eventually came in the
form of Bronwyn Mehan who is the publisher of Spineless Wonders, a publisher
dedicated to, among other things, the production of ebooks, or books without
paper, books without spines. Bronwyn offered to take over the making of the
ebook – but then she pointed out something I had been trying not to think: she
said a book such as Dear Writer is a book that many readers and students
of writing like to hold in their hand, to consult in the old-fashioned way, to
use the Index for quick reference, to keep on the bookshelf. This was obviously
true, because I had found it impossible to get hold of a copy of Dear Writer
until a fellow writer volunteered to let me have hers. So Bronwyn’s suggestion
was that before she produced the ebook, maybe she could produce the paperback.
The new title would be Dear Writer Revisited.
We would proceed from the paperback
version to the ebook version, the ebook requiring its own specific layout and
other elements needed for electronic delivery. How to manage an index in an
ebook? Such matters would impact on the text. Quite.
Having told you how I felt about
the covers of some of the editions, I can now rejoice to tell you that I
designed the cover of Dear Writer Revisited myself. So I love it.
The friend who gave me her copy of Dear Writer was children’s author Glenda
Millard. We mocked up the cover at her house, using books we bought from the
local charity shop and tore up into little bits. Another friend, Susan Bassett,
did most of the work on the title and author on the front cover.
So that’s the story of one of the
nine books that are in print.
I think I feel quite exhausted by
it all.
Before you ask more questions,
there are just two things that come to mind – the other day I drove past the
vast hole in the ground at the corner of Lonsdale and Spencer Streets. There
were a few smashed pillars of old concrete jutting from the rubble, twisted
wires sprouting from them like dry wisteria in a drawing by Arthur Rackham. Big
hoses were spraying water in wide arcs across the desolate landscape. It was
the site of a new development of apartments – it was the site where The Age
building used to be. Goodbye newspapers.
Actually, Rachel Buchanan
published an interesting book Stop Press last year, giving her insider’s
perspective on the rise and fall of the printed newspaper.
Change is in the air –
newspapers, cheques, landlines, books are disappearing, sliding into
obscurity - the weather – the weather is
changing.
So that was one thing –
newspapers.
The other thing is a new book by
one of my favourite authors, Fay Weldon. It’s called The Ted Dreams and it was
written specially as an ebook. No paper involved.
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