I've not made much of a secret of my purchasing a Kindle, largely due to my evangelizing the stupid thing whenever the opportunity arises. Despite what some people would have you believe, I do not ardently desire the death of printed books, libraries, or puppies (an unrelated story for another time). I do, however, believe that printed books could use some competition. My purchase of the electronic daemon-tome was justified (to myself) on the basis of a few facts:
-
It's cheaper to purchase new books on the Kindle than to buy the physical copy. Most books are released as hardcovers, with paperbacks that follow a year or two later. For the most part, I don't mind waiting as a) I don't want to spend $17-20+ for a book, and b) I dislike reading hardcover books because I never know what to do with the jacket. There are, however, certain exceptions (theDresden Files series, to name one) that I would buy anyway, and it's not so bad to find out about new books and be able to snag them for $10 a shot. Recent excellent acquisitions because of this: The Magicians (absolutely recommended to anyone who liked Narnia), Idiot America and Fool.
-
Used Kindles, which are just as usable as the new ones, are cheaper than the $300 entry price point. I got mine for $175, which means that after 17 or so hardbacks, I broke even.
-
Free e-books are available, both legally (public domain—antiquities,classics) and not-so. I've read all of Dan Brown's books (so I have a legitimate basis to criticize them), but have not had to pay for it using anything other than my time, intelligence and a smidgen of my soul.
-
It's far more convenient I read. A lot. And rather quickly, too, which means that going on a trip or moving no longer means carting around an extra half-dozen books._
-
Most importantly, there is no material difference between the electronic version and the paper version.
This last point would have been an absolute deal-breaker. While some books obviously would not translate to the Kindle very well (graphic novels spring immediately to mind), I assumed the experience of reading an e-book would be akin to reading a regular book. Hell, I was willing to give them slack and only count those books purchased through the Kindle Store, and leave the ... (ahem) other books out of the comparison. Unfortunately, this has not been my experience thus far. By and large, I've been ... okay with the quality of the books purchased through the Amazon store. There are, however, serious glaring problems with a few books that—had anyone in a position to edit such things actually proofread the books—are frankly inexcusable, at least to a word-nerd like me. In order of increasing severity:
-
Justified text This is wrong. Justified text is impossible to read, because it stretches out the spaces inbetween words in order to be able to fill the line. Most people use typography and design as contextual clues to how words should be read. If you randomly insert spaces into the text, people assume they're supposed to read those passages slower. One can only imagine the savage corneal-rape that would occur should someone try to read a Jonathan Safran Foer or a Douglas Coupland novel. The biggest problem with using justified text is the way it screws with paragraphs. For those novels that use this method, it creates an unwieldy mass of text scattershot around the page, clumping together in strange places like random animals fornicating in the night, casting unseemly and surreal shadows.
-
HyphensCoupled with the fact the Kindle treats hyphen breaks the way most computers do (i.e. not breaking up hyphenated words), long-phrases-used-for-comedic-effect get broken onto different lines. Don't even get me started on the books that used hyphens for the print versions, dumped the text on the Kindle and left the hyphens in even though they didn't occur at line breaks in electronic form.
-
Footnotes For the most part, this isn't a huge issue. There are, of course, exceptions to this rule. For those who use explanatory footnotes to explain a word (Shakespearean plays, etc.), this would be mildly annoying. For those who use/abuse the footnotes to throw in a joke or two (Christopher Moore, author of the aforementioned Fool), this would be a huge pain—trust me, I tried to read it, and the footnotes didn't help much. But for those whose entire book depends upon footnotes (I'm thinking specifically of Bill Simmons' Now I Can Die In Peace, which consists solely of reprinted columns that are footnoted with context/jokes. The footnotes comprise fully half the book's length), it's an absolute deal-breaker. I would not buy one of his books for Kindle, simply because it would be such a huge pain. To click on each footnote is a three-step process, and another step/page load to get back to the original text.
-
Laziness This last point kind of covers the first two, but is more encompassing. While lazy layouts are certainly annoying, it's simply infuriating to purchase a product the publishers so clearly didn't put any time into. Aside from the aforementioned extraneous hyphens, the biggest thing I've noticed about Kindle books is they're poorly spell-checked. In David Cross' I Drink For A Reason, his two uses of the words "conscious" are replaced by "conscience," even though they appear in completely different sections. Public Enemies, in addition to hyper-hyphenation, also suffered from numerous misspellings.
The bottom line is I hate being sold a product that is inferior.I realize these are extremely minor points, but I purchased the Kindle with the expectation the electronic products would receive the same oversight as the printed products. While it would be foolish to sell the Kindle at this point (given how many books I've purchased on it and what the return would be), it's also unlikely I'll be impulse-buying a lot more titles—at least, until I'm convinced they've actually started to care about the reading experience of each one.
I was complaining about Amazon before it was cool.
As I sat down in the dark, empty newsroom, I was suddenly hit by a realization. I wasn't going to blog about it, but I figure you've got to have some milestones in life.
As of right now, I will be starting on my second year of employment at the Evergreen.
Wow, it feels really weird to say that. I'm honestly shocked I'm still working here. Last summer, I was only working one job (computer repair, 20 hours a week), and was getting really bored. I saw a house ad looking for columnists, and seeing as how I love the sound of my own voice (figuratively, of course [or should I say, literarily]), I ventured down to the Murrow dungeon and grabbed an application.
It wasn't the first time I considered working for the Evergreen (I had picked an app that spring but never bothered to fill it out), but it was the first time I actually turned my application in. I filled it out and turned it in on June 17th, and promptly thought nothing else about it.
On the 19th, I got a call from Kellie, the opinion editor at the time. She said to come on in for an interview on the 20th (a Wednesday). I was somewhat surprised it was so quick, but I figured I should have a sample ready to show her in case she wanted to see how I wrote. I did some research, looked up some quotes about WSU in the press recently, and wrote up a quick column.
When I went in, Kellie went over the basics with me, told me I was hired and asked when I could have my first column in by. It literally took about that long. I showed her my sample column, to which she made a few suggestions/edits and printed it. I remember walking between Murrow East & West staring at my watch around 4:30. Damn, I thought, I'm gonna be in the newspaper. And I didn't have to get arrested or anything.
I didn't even know columnists got paid at that point. I was perfectly willing to do it for funsies so I wouldn't be so bored. I wrote about half a dozen columns, submitted my name at the end of the summer as someone willing to do it again in the fall, and dismissed it when I didn't hear anything.
Then, on the Tuesday of Work Week (the week before school starts when all the sororities and fraternities clean/repair their houses), I got a call on my phone. It was Lisa, telling me the Evergreen needed an opinion editor and someone (I'm assuming it was Mel) had mentioned me as someone who was capable of handling it (translation to my ears: Your copy didn't require too much work during the summer ... but I showed them!).
I called her back and was invited to visit the newsroom the next day.
Well, I dutifully turned up and was immediately intimidated by all the people who were busily and purposefully going about their work. Clearly, these were people who knew what the hell they were doing. Being far too nervous to speak, I was lucky Lisa happened to be coming out of her office and introduced herself to me. She (along with Tor) pulled me into the office and closed the door, with Lisa behind the desk and Tor seated in the pink comfy chair. I don't think Victor said much beyond quizzing me on some InDesign stuff, and it mostly consisted of Lisa couching everything in terms of language that implied I was taking the job, or else (it was a masterful job of persuasion). That was pretty much it. The next thing I knew Lisa led me outside the office, announced I was the opinion editor (I specifically remember Kaci yelling, "Finally!" or "Thank God!"), and off I went.
That was 10 months ago.
I still feel a little foolish typing in "deeditor" at the login screen every day, but I've mostly gotten over it. And ... I'm in charge? I still haven't stopped looking over at the editor's office, expecting Brian or Lisa or Tor or somebody to walk out and tell me what to do or pointing out how to do something better. It's always a bit of a jolt to realize how far away Tacoma, Spokane and the 'Couv really are.
I won't say every day working at the Ev is fun, because God knows there are those ridiculously frustrating days that make you feel all stabby. But I almost always feel better walking into the newsroom than I do any place else, and there aren't many other locales that I can say that about.
And even though this summer's provided its own set of ridiculous happenstance, I still feel we're able to take whatever comes at us and keep on rolling. As long as there's a passionate core group, this paper's never going under. Thank god for the summer staff, by the way. They freaking rock, even if I never bother to tell them (because there's always more work to be done).
I didn't ever think I'd end up working as an editor (hell, I barely knew what an editor did) when I first applied for the Ev, and I certainly didn't think I'd ever move out of opinion. Regardless, I can confidently say I've never once regretted any decision I made regarding working here.
Anyway, I wanted to make sure and thank everybody who helped me out along the way. Of course, by those people I mean all the other editors I've worked with (even including some who I never served under/with, but now wish I had) and even some of my writers (shudder), all of whom have helped me to get better at this thing as I go along, and I only hope I can help carry on the tradition. I'd list everybody individually, but the worst thing I can imagine is forgetting someone, so it's gotta be a group thang.
In short, it's been quite an eventful year for me. But as the saying goes, tomorrow's another day. And damn, the day after that's Sunday, which means another paper.
Better get to work.
At 4:27 p.m., Pullman shuts down. Classes are canceled, businesses will close and all eyes will be on the boys in red as they take on the boys in baby blue. Families will huddle around their televisions, office workers will huddle around their computer screens and thousands will stream into Beasley Coliseum to cheer on the Cougs with one voice.
At 4:27 p.m. in Seattle, a businessman in a sharply pressed suit will instruct his secretary he's leaving early, pick up the Cougar hat he's worn every day for the past 20 years from the coat rack and head on down to the nearest sports bar (he is a Cougar, after all). Once he walks in the door his eyes will be greeted with a sea of crimson, but he'll walk right over to the first purple coat he sees and sit down next to him. Their only exchange will be mutual nods, but it doesn't matter: Everyone's rooting for the same team today.
At 5:27 p.m. in Phoenix, at 6:27 p.m. in Kansas and at 7:27 p.m. in New York City, Cougars will come out of the woodwork. Proudly displaying their crimson and gray, they'll be keeping a sharp eye out all day long for fellow Cougs, and at the appointed hour they will gather 'round CBS to watch a truly historic Cougar sports moment unfold.
At this point, it almost doesn't even matter the Tar Heels are 3:1 odds to win the whole thing. Washington State, by contrast, is at 45:1.
But really, I think everyone's pretty satisfied to get here. Anything after this is almost gratis. Look how far this team has come: 12-15 in 2004, 11-16 in 2005 to 26-8 the last two years, with a shot at win #27. Not to mention senior center Robbie Cowgill's tie in the ASWSU election for District 7 senator. At this point, Glenn Johnson should probably watch his back; if Tony Bennett (or even Taylor Rochestie for that matter) ever gets it in his mind to run for mayor, I think he'd have a decent shot.
At this point, you can say only one thing to Weaver, Cowgill and Low: You did it. You've turned around a WSU program, long the laughingstock of the league, and brought it back to respectability. The Sweet 16 establishes the team as one of the truly elite in the nation. You don't owe anything to the university, the fans, or indeed anyone but yourselves. Just know the hearts, minds and throats of thousands of Cougar fans all around the world will be following the ecstasy and misery that can only come from an NCAA tourney game.
A special note to Aron Baynes: It's time now. It's time to shed the immature, pouting game you've lapsed into for the past two seasons. Every time we see flashes of brilliance from you, it's made all the worse when you revert back to hack-and-slash ticky-tack fouls. More than any other player on the court, you will decide this game. If everyone's clicking but you, the Cougars cannot win. If you play the same stingy defense, do the fundamental things (boxing out, rebounding) and limit your fouls the way you have in the first two games, you will decide the outcome of this game. Hell, if you can do that, next year the feared center everyone worries about won't be Tyler Hansborough or someone named Lopez; they'll be worried about Aron Baynes.
There's really nothing much left to say. For two hours, Cougar fans will experience something I would doubt many of them (everyone younger than 67) will be familiar with. They'll cheer with every 3-pointer and grimace with actual physical pain at every failed defensive stop, right alongside the players in Charlotte. But when it's all said and done, regardless of the outcome, WSU and yes the entire state of Washington, will stand proud, united.
Go Cougs.
On the occasion of the old alma mater making the Sweet 16 for the first time ever.
It's always odd, walking the streets at night when everyone's away. Without exception, by the end of the weekend before a break Pullman empties and I am left to fend for myself among the other rejects and townies. 2 a.m. is a sufficiently creepy time in and of itself. Now, it's literally quiet enough to hear the buzzing of the electric lights in their faux-Victorian lampposts.
As I pad down the silent streets, a truly eerie sense surrounds me. On any normal night I'd be met by a motley assortment of groups and individuals in various stages of drunkenness. These encounters are always touchy, as inebriated Cougars range the full emotion gamut from happy to out-and-out vituperation.
This night is different. Though not quite empty, College Hill is for the most part devoid of humanity (in a literal sense as opposed to the usual metaphorical sense), making for an unusually uninterrupted walk. Somewhere around one of the new apartment complexes, I stumbled across a couple.
The male, anxious and most likely horny, is furiously attempting to work the lock on the door to his house, where presumably he will enjoin the female in relations - this is his plan at least. By contrast, the female is either stalling or unwilling to go inside, and is instead twirling around on the sidewalk singing various selections from The Wizard of Oz, if somewhat brokenly.
As I inch closer, she spies and points at me, saying "this girl knows what I'm talking about!" It's unclear whether she's saying it for the male's benefit, mine or merely her own. She begins to sing again, and (somewhat enjoying silliness) I join her, though softly. She laughs, but I'm not entirely sure she even noticed.
She walks over to me, arm outstretched. "Do you want to be my scarecrow?" she asks with a smile that has just the faintest hint of sadness. She has to repeat it twice before I actually understand what she said. Looking into those dovish (albeit drunk) blue eyes, I don't really feel as if I have a choice.
"Of course," I reply, taking her arm. We skip off down the street, singing "Because, because, because, because .... because of the wonderful things he does," laughing the whole way.
When we've gone about half a block, she collapses into giggles and pulls her arm away. After regaining her composure, she walks back over to me with a much happier smile on her face. She thanks me, and I attempt to shake her hand. She does so, then reconsiders and gives me a hug.
"You're the best scarecrow ever," she concludes.
I shall probably never see her again, and the minimal impression she made on me is probably even less than the impression I made on her, at least on a personal level.
But then again, that's not really the point, is it?