“Everything you can imagine is real.” ― Pablo Picasso
Having read the following article I am in a quandary of whether to embrace the new or mourn the loss of the old. As a child I lived in my imagination. I was in ancient Greece listening to the gods as they spoke; on a ship sailing around the Cape of Good Hope to India for adventure and conquering distant worlds. In my mind I created the landscapes, the voices, and the limps as a person walked or the expressions of a child’s face. I saw the plot, the action and the colors in my mind. I was anything or anywhere I could wrap my mind around. Writing was a natural extension of my mind’s playground that I wanted to share. Yet, this future calls to me, enticing me as the possibilities lick at me like a puppy’s wet tongue. As a writer I hear the bells and whistles that could be possible with the evolving sprawl of eBooks and I think, oh what good fun!
On the other hand, I wonder what the cost could be to mankind if this future of eBooks became not only a reality but the norm of mankind. If we were to be encompassed with the visual, the audible and the immersion of learning swamping all our other senses then what would happen to our imagination? What of the Ben Franklins, the George Washington Carvers, the Orville and Wilbur Wrights, and the Preston Tuckers who made and make our world the one we have. Would this new technology eliminate what makes humans so uniquely us, the ability to create outside of the universe of writing? Would only those who were authors be the new creators of our world? What would be the cost of the loss of everyone else’s imagination?
Don’t get me wrong. I love being a writer, of having people read what I create and becoming lost in the story. I just don’t want that to the exclusion of everyone else’s creativity. I believe in the body principle of Christianity. Everyone has a purpose, a function if you will. Without all of us working together we do not have a healthy body and end up walking in circles with our head tilted to one side. Too much of any one thing in my opinion is not good, but hey, I was always a rebel of one kind or another.
A manifesto for ebooks
Published September 08, 2015. By Catherine Dunn
“We’re witnessing the birth of a new art form,” writes Catherine Dunn of Help For Writers. And in this refreshingly upbeat assessment of ebooks’ potential, she works against some of the “print under glass” disappointment expressed by others in our series of #FutureBook15 manifestos. Here in these early dark days of digital disruption and despair, she predicts, “Content will be designed to lead you off the beaten track, up the garden path and perhaps even around the bend.” I am so there. Hang on, Dunn tells us in this secret smile of a manifesto: “If we could see the future, it’d blow our minds.” —Porter Anderson
Ebooks will reshape the definition of the word ‘book’
Eventually they will shake it off altogether.
When photography was invented no one predicted the world of the moving picture we have now. Cinema, television and the seemingly bottomless video pit that is the internet were inconceivable when even a still photo was a marvel. Ebooks will travel to places we haven’t yet dreamed of.
Enhanced ebooks can already deliver a multi-sensory experience, but there is a lingering worry that this format could be a distraction, taking away from the submersive nature of reading and eventually becoming indistinguishable from games. Writers, artists and technicians will still be keen to explore this avenue, though, leading to much more sophisticated integration of the multi-sensory environment.
With the increase in audiovisual entertainment in the home—bearing in mind the decline in cinema-going—it’s easy to imagine a future in which, surrounded by screens and speakers, we can see the sunrise and hear the birdsong with our author’s hero, sit in a coffee shop with him and experience the darkness when he’s locked in a car boot. Ebooks will be able to track our eye movements and talk to other technology to deliver a subtle experience that enhances, rather than detracts from, our immersion in the author’s words and worlds.