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Digital Media: The End of the Book as We Know It?

By Kirsten on March 31, 2010 12:36 PM | 1 Comment | No TrackBacks

Hardly! This super-cool video presentation, prepared by the UK branch of Dorling Kindersley Books (shout-out to my peeps at DK! Keep on fighting the good fight, ya'll!) has been making the circuit in the publishing community these last few weeks and eliciting squeals of delight around Indigo since we ran across it. Makes me smile every time...

Why Twilight is Bogus

By Aja on March 19, 2010 2:50 PM | No Comments | No TrackBacks

Like any normal person, I was up really late at night contemplating the nature of vampires. I was examining this Twilight phenomenon. See, to me at least, there are some certain defining characteristics about vampires. I am not talking about a weakness for garlic (debatable) or that the only way to kill them is a stake to the heart (head removal kills most things). No, the curse of the vampire is that while enjoying superior strength, speed and immortality it must give up a good deal of what it means to be human. They cannot enjoy the warmth of the sun, they cannot have casual interaction with the populace, and they must subside by the life-force of another. You see, a vampire's ultimate weakness lies in its dependency on humankind. It might be stronger, faster, and much more experienced in life but vampires are nothing without us.

This creates a circular problem for vampires. The only meaningful contact they could sustain is with another immortal. While certainly possible, there are factors that might mitigate this. One, centuries with the same person could become trying. Two, they are competing predators in a very specific process. Three, even having a meaningful connection with one single entity seems psychotic still. This problem creates two significant situations. Either the vampire has no meaningful contact with anyone, ever, or it tries to create ones with the rather transient human race.

Fitting in is a survival skill that, once a person has significantly more strength and speed, becomes superfluous. Once a vampire has divorced emotion out of interactions with humans, using its abilities to forcefully take sustenance, it further deviates from emotionality. After all, what purpose do emotions serve at that point? In this scenario, the vampire literally turns into a humanoid beast. It has the face of a man and the survival skills of a predator. Nothing more defines it.

A more common motif, certainly in recent years, is the vampire with a heart. He or she inexplicably interacts with the human population. The downside to this is that humans are not immortal. The vampire exchanges the semblance of love and an emotional stability with the impending doom of the human with which he or she is enamored. To experience an almost wholly human act vampires become vulnerable. Both in a physical (safety) manner and in a figurative (emotional) manner.

Vampires cannot feel the sun. Be it because of unholiness, the frailty of the magic animating them, or "just cause"; this weakness further emphasizes the bleakness of their existence. No vampire can look upon the sun, be comforted by its warmth, or enjoy the light of day. As a night creature, the daytime is an inherently dangerous time. This is their time of rest and is the apex of human advantage. Entering a relationship with a human means that a vampire gives up autonomy but especially during his or her weakest moments.

Further, most humans exist within a web of other humans. Co-workers, family, and neighbors are all part of their daily life. A vampire boyfriend is hard to explain to these people. Unless willing to risk exposure by 'coming out' to a large population a vampire has to avoid this normal part of the relationship experience. After all, he or she cannot meet anyone during the day, partake of food or drink, and wants to eat pretty much anyone he or she comes across. This, feasibly, includes the person of their affection.

This is where the thought of a vampire dating a human becomes dicey. The vampire cannot casually treat humans as food (to retain the love of a human and to be capable of loving one). Maybe they fight the desire to feed, maybe feeding does not have to result in death, or they could have to eat with less regularity than humans. However, the whole point of a vampire is that it feeds off the life-force of that which it once was - human. This makes the entire relationship bleak. Either the vampire continually fights off the literal desire to devour the person and/or puts that human in the position of having to be okay with a lover who occasionally murders someone throughout their lifetime together.

This opens the vampire up for emotional pain. Like anyone in a relationship, they are vulnerable to judgment and the waning affection of the other party. There is a conflict between their natural sense (hunt, feed, prey) and their desire for the comfort of a helpmate. This is in addition to the fact that this relationship, however perfect, has an expiration date. For the vampire 'in love' with a human, there are two choices. One, let this person die by old age, human nature, or by feeding off them. Two, change them into a vampire.

The prior is an issue any human risks in a relationship. Your loved one could always die before you do. Generally, though, there is the comfort of the other people you interact with and possibly the knowledge that you can meet them in the next life. Neither of these comforts exists for a vampire. They face an eternity of remembering that they once loved and either never having that again or to always be seeking it again. This is the ultimate curse of the vampire: not to be part of the human existence but to be entirely dependent upon it.

Unless they take the second option and turn their loved one into a vampire. This returns us to the very first caveat of being a vampire. Even someone you love can become hard to face after two centuries. Especially if you are competing for the same food sources, in the same area, while avoiding detection. If this was the route they were going to end up with why bother spending a few years denying your inherent nature by dating him or her as a human in the first place?

This, then, is the issue I take with Twilight. Edward can walk in the sun, he feeds off of animals and does well with this, plus he has a loving family and support structure. He eats animals for sustenance like any other human. He just happens to be faster, stronger, and will live forever. I see no downsides to this existence. Edward faces no challenges, the earmark of humanity, nor is he dependent upon humans for existence. He has no curse.

There are pretend markers for this, as his relationship with Bella seems fraught with tension. Yet there is no downside to turning her into a vampire as well because there are no downsides to his life. They do not compete for food. With the exception of Jasper, who can blame his upbringing, there is little to fear in mixing with the human populace. The only downside to the daytime is that if it is too sunny they sparkle as if a thousand crushed diamonds were embedded in Adonis. There are no vulnerabilities because they never sleep nor have susceptibility to the sun. Given his powers and lack of flaws, Edward indicates 'the perfect man' and resembles no one more so than a religious icon. Who dates the clumsy girl? I am willing to take on faith an existence with vampires and I do not buy that.

Roadside Assistance Now Available!

By Kirsten on February 22, 2010 11:48 AM | No Comments | No TrackBacks

I hate moving. You set aside the things that you know you're going to want as soon as you get settled in, then you pack them all together in a nice little box that you proceed to totally misplace amongst the conglomeration of other, equally nice, little boxes. And you end up thinking to yourself, "Okay...I took all of the stuff from the bathroom cabinet and packed it together so that I would know where it was...now why don't I know where it is?"

My point? I put all of my cords & card readers & drives & such into a nice little box last December, and I found that box last night. ROCK! Finally, I can synch my calendars & contacts, put some new music on my not-an-iPod, and basically function like the technologically advanced human being I know myself to be. Also: so many pictures to upload! Funny how sorting through the digital record of my life calls to mind so many things that might otherwise go forgotten....

Indigo pictures are a hoot to look through. I love to document the things that you see at an independent bookstore that you just don't find at Barnes & Noble or Borders. Every day, I watch scores of folks who are otherwise strangers sit down to a meal together at The Table. Our youngest customers come swooping in each Saturday morning with new stories to tell us from the past week at school. Booksellers greet visitors by name as they stroll through the door. Now seriously: does your chain bookstore know your name? I think not.

Even more seriously: would your chain bookstore jump-start your car? Totally not. This was my very favorite found photo from the last few months. Look how pleased we all are! I'm thrilled to have exhibited a useful skill, Kate's thrilled she didn't have to touch any engines, Car Guy is thrilled to have his engine running again...Car Guy, I failed to get your name during our afternoon together, but here's a shout-out all the same. 'Sup?! Thanks for asking for help. I'm seriously flattered to know that our Indigo crew is approachable on a human level, and refreshed to be able to contribute something outside the realm of my professional expertise.

So, from your independent bookseller to you - remember: just to be safe, leave the newly-started car running for at least 10 minutes to allow the battery to recharge...

Yet another one of the personalized services we're happy to provide. ;)

For Jerome - with Love and Squalor

By Kirsten on February 5, 2010 12:35 PM | No Comments | No TrackBacks

When I was 13 years old, I knew everything. I was magnificently sure of my superiority in mind and spirit, my unknowable genius, my unprecedented individuality, my intimidating arsenal of literary brilliance. My magic was the roughest, not to be challenged or ignored. I was bigger than everything that came before me, and all that jazz. I was deeply, luminously dark, a beacon of existential certitude, loudly and proudly oxymoronic. Rooted in my stunning misery, I declared myself pedagogically unapproachable and resigned myself to having learned all there was to learn. I was as small as the world, but as large as alone. I was a self-aggrandizing pain in the neck.

And then came Holden Caulfield. He taught me that I was neither unteachable nor solitary. This was the book that I wanted to write! And someone had beaten me to it. I was humbled by, and completely enamored of, J.D. Salinger. I gobbled up all his work. I was certain that no one else in the whole wide world understood him the way that I did. I was Franny. I was Teddy. I was desperately searching for a lost something that I had never possessed in the first place. And I was suddenly aware that I was not the only one to feel this way. An astounding number of people read the words "don't ever tell anybody anything" and become possessed of the need to tell somebody something immediately. I am one of them. Many of us are quietly embarrassed to admit it, but Holden makes us frantic of speak before we're silenced, to rage against the dying of the light. To holler, if you will.

I'm still annoying and narcissistic. That, apparently, will never change. My love for Salinger has also remained constant - so many stories I adored as an adolescent have become nearly unpalatable in adulthood that I cherish his endurance all the more. Rare is the book that can act not only as a keystone but as a social barometer. The Catcher in the Rye is particularly unique in this regard, being one of the few modern classics never to have been forced into the spectacle of film. J.D. Salinger ensured that Catcher would stand alone, demanding to be read, to be touched. The tactile informs the cerebral and emotional. We love it all the more for having held it each time we've experienced it. We recognize this in each other, we respect it. Kim Coleman's declaration at an Indigo dinner last month that Catcher is the book she most wishes she had written elicited deep nods all around the table. Proof positive that I work with good folks.

I've written three letters to Mr. Salinger over the last fifteen years. I really wish that I had sent one of them. Barreling down the winter highway last Thursday afternoon, spewing snow and spewing tears, listening to NPR's early tributes to this departed stranger, I regretted this most epic fail over and over. About all I know is, I sort of miss this guy I didn't even know. I sort of miss that something that I never had.

Well.

It's funny. Don't ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody.

Margaret Atwood

By Aja on December 21, 2009 11:09 AM | No Comments | No TrackBacks

While on vacation this fall, I happened by chance onto a Margaret Atwood reading in Denver, Colorado. The Tattered Cover Bookstore hosted a two hundred person event. It was a little scrunched but everyone remained good-natured. After all, we were all brought together because of our shared joy - reading Margaret Atwood. While waiting for the event to officially kick off I learned that this was not the first time she had done a reading and signing at the bookstore and a lot of the people seated around me were returning. This seemed a great sign.

Atwood's newest work, The Year of the Flood, returns to the same setting and time period introduced in Oryx and Crake. She says it is neither a prequel or a sequel but a morequel. She explained this word by saying, "If you were reading a Victorian novel you would come to a chapter entitled 'Meanwhile'. This is meanwhile." Interestingly, she also revealed that she felt the setting had room for one more story. There might just be a third book in the works.

During the question and answer section a woman said that she felt that a lot of Atwood's work was dark and dystopian. She wondered if this was reflective of Atwood's personal views. The response was quick with, "Some of - not many - are darker. I have yet to write a book in which all the main characters are dead at the end. That's pretty good. Better than Hamlet..."

You might get the impression that she is quick-witted and you would be one hundred percent correct. Atwood entered the room in a mostly black with pink and purple accented track suit. A purse the size of a messenger bag was tucked under one arm and the guy behind me whispered that she was seventy years old. I want to be like this when I am seventy: tidy, put together, and riotously funny. She was hilarious, no joke.

I have not met an author who came across as more intelligent, warm and in-touch with the crowd as Margaret Atwood. Her first comment was to thank the store and readers. This was followed by an explanation of the schedule of events - including a sampling of hymns introduced in the book. See, this is one of the beautiful things about Atwood - she wanted to make her tour about more than just her work. As an active member of The Royal Society for the Protection of Birds, Atwood spoke of the pressing need to educate the general public on the importance of preservation. They asked her how someone goes about doing it. She said, "Like this."

Suddenly, she is making plans to go on tour with her book. She was put in contact with Orville Stoeber who set about putting the hymns from the book to music. She arranged additional events in which local performers would showcase the music to continue to raise awareness. Yes, it makes great press for her book. More importantly, it brings to light the issues she is passionate about. Her verve was obvious. While playing the sample of songs she was at the front singing along and bopping to the music. She started the room clapping and despite how horrible my group was at staying on beat we all still felt caught up in a magical moment. That is her skill in person, in life, and in writing. She builds magical moments that we can enjoy anywhere a book can travel.

Peace,

Aja

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