Dr. Dobb's Journal September 2001
I'm all in favor of awards named after editors. I like them, in fact, almost as much as awards given to editors. As it turns out, my current favorite editor-induced award is the John W. Campbell Memorial Award for best science-fiction novel of the year, named in honor of the late editor of Astounding Science Fiction magazine, now called Analog: Science Fiction and Fact (http://www.analogsf.com/). In addition to being considered a great editor, John W. Campbell, Jr. is generally credited as the father of modern science fiction.
Established by Harry Harrison and Brian Aldiss, the Campbell Award (http://falcon.cc.ku.edu/~sfcenter/campbell.htm) was first handed out in 1973, and coordinated since 1979 by James Gunn, director of the Center for the Study of Science Fiction (CSSF) (http://falcon.cc.ku.edu/~sfcenter/) at the University of Kansas. This year's recipient is Poul Anderson's Genesis, a story about artificial intelligence developing to the point where human personalities can be uploaded into computers, thereby granting some sort of immortality to humans. Likewise, the Theodore Sturgeon Memorial Award for best short science fiction of the year was awarded to Ian McDonald's "Tendeleo's Story."
As is the custom, both awards were given in conjunction with the CSSF's Campbell Conference and Writers Workshop in Science Fiction. The focus of this year's conference, "Science Fiction in the Electronic Era," has fans, teachers, students, authors — especially authors — concerned, particularly when it comes to rights issues. Authors in attendance at the conference, including the likes of Gunn, Frederik Pohl, Kij Johnson, Paul Carter, Robin Bailey, Ian McDonald, Justin Leiber, Chris McKitterick, and Elizabeth Anne Hull, among others, were uniform in expressing consternation over what used to involve either hardback or paperback rights, or if you were lucky, movie or TV rights. Now, there's the Internet, e-books, and a slew of other deals to worry about.
Along with the rest of the book-publishing world, science fiction is in a transition, at least in terms of production and distribution. At the expense of "midlist books" written by emerging authors, big publishers, and chain bookstores have mindlessly cut their own throat in a suicidal quest for Wall Street blessings. Consequently, new authors with fresh ideas have been sacrificed at the alter of the Stephen Kings and John Grishams. Alas, we keep waiting for someone to write "Book Publishing for Dummies," but then those who would benefit from it the most probably don't read much anyway. In the meantime, e-books, the Internet, printing-on-demand, and author's rights remain bright blips on everyone's radar screens.
Of course, the science-fiction community shouldn't be that surprised at the current goings on in the publishing world; that is, if Ben Bova's out-of-print Cyberbooks (Tor Books, 1989; ISBN 0812503198) is any clue. Written more than a decade ago, Bova accurately prophesied today's world of shrinking literacy rates, skyrocking costs, and the advent of "e-books." The idealistic hero of Cyberbooks is Carl Lewis, an MIT professor who hopes to revolutionize book publishing by making books more accessible and affordable for everyone. To that end, he develops a high-resolution PalmPilot-like "cyberbook" into which entire books can be inexpensively downloaded, thereby saving trees and cutting costs. However, what Lewis learns is that book publishers are concerned about literacy rates and the environment only when these issues don't conflict with unit sales and stock prices. And therein lies the tale.
The consensus around the table at the Campbell Conference seemed to be that the current crop of e-books have a ways to go. They're too expensive, too fragile, too buggy, and the content too limited. Not to mention that they're just too unbook-like. What promise they do hold seems to be more in the realm of vocational needs (as in reference or technical), rather than avocational interests.
That said, there's greater promise in the realm of printing-on-demand, particularly as implemented in the PerfectBook machine developed by Perfect Systems (http://www.perfect-systems.com/). The PerfectBook machine looks somewhat like the large photocopiers you see in Kinkos or other professional copy shops, except that it produces — that is, prints, jogs, binds, trims, and binds — a 200-page paperback book with a four-color cover in about two minutes. Furthermore, it costs no more to print one book than, say, 100 (except for paper costs, of course).
The PerfectBook machine uses a web interface that lets users, either on a LAN or the Internet, send a book "package" to the machine. From that point on, the process is automated, resulting in a printed, bound, and trimmed book. Alternatively, you can publish directly from word processors by adding tags or scripts to documents.
It doesn't take a science-fiction fan to visualize a $30,000 machine such as this setting in copy shops, bookstores, or even java joints. The advantage for booksellers involves lower inventories and less overhead. The advantage for authors, particularly new authors, is a greater opportunity for publication. And the advantage for readers is a wider selection, reduced costs, and immediate service. Gee, maybe Bova's Carl Lewis character was on to something after all.
Jonathan Erickson
editor-in-chief
jerickson@ddj.com