By Porter Anderson | @Porter_Anderson
From November 23, 2011
Part of my series of columns on publishing, Writing on the Ether, appearing each Thursday at JaneFriedman.com
So crikey. Just when you think you have it all worked out—the difference between mammals and publishers—you look up or down or somewhere and find a big surprise. Right under you. Can a Big Six publisher really lay one of those?
Well, maybe yes, maybe no.
Here we are, having our Thanksgiving picnic on the hillside of publishing. Surveying the battle below. We kibitz a little, as some of our most self-congratulatory DIY authors fight The Bird That Walks Upright Like Us. Over the territory called Book Country. We’re actually hearing from a peacemaker named Mick Rooney on that one–there could be another bird on the scene, one called a dove.
But first, boom! The pitter-patter of little flippers on linoleum. Look! Over at your library! It’s a bunch of short guys in tuxedos running away with the ebooks! Not the existing ebooks, the new ebooks. (Nothing is simple, remember, and the dew is on the decimal.)
The publishing industry makes pilgrims look like sensible dressers.
While you’re bent over double trying to unbuckle thy shoes, we’re dodging another big bird, The One Who Gobbles. By super-heating our airy bower, we hope to better enjoy the Cornucopia of Uproars with which our pioneers in digitalia have roiled themselves of late.
Going forward—and have we ever gone backward? don’t answer that—I’ll add an update or two to the Extra Ether section below and tweet it madly, as is my wont, so you might find a fresh whiff or two here, even while hunkered for the holidays. Honk if you have pumpkin pie.
Allora. To the barricades, or to the dogs, whichever comes first.
And my best wishes for the special displays of gluttony with which we annually demonstrate our collective gratitude
Here’s the rest of the post at JaneFriedman.com