by FREDERICA VON McTOAST-HYPHEN, Alternate Reality News Service Pop Culture Writer
Trent McWhithervane thought he had it all. His first book, Tread Softly on the Hard Road, a semi-fictional true story based on his experiences as a Star Blap addicted child street chiropractor, was mentioned on Oprah. In response, his publisher added a second print run of 500,000 hardcover copies to the original print run of 12. And, they flew off the shelves (literally: bookstores were testing a new sales technology where shelves use Dr. Seussian arms to actually push merchandise out into aisles towards customers, a technology that obviously needs a little fine tuning).
Six months later, McWhithervane made his first million dollars, and he couldn’t be more miserable.
“Sure, the big house, the sauna, the weekend trips to the south of France, the memberships in exclusive clubs for sports I don’t even play, the insincere adoration of beautiful women, they’re nice,” McWhithervane stated, “but I’d give it all up in a second if people liked to read my book – why don’t people like to read my book?”
Probably because it’s badly written. However, that’s not what makes McWhithervane’s plaint interesting; how he came to know that people didn’t enjoy reading his book, despite its massive sales, is.
Almost all books today are published for Kindle, Blaze, Firefighter and other electronic platforms. As with any digital device, they can capture information as well as display it: details of the lives and reading habits of people who buy ebooks, for example. In this case, the data showed that the average Tread Softly on the Hard Road reader stopped at page 23.
“They…didn’t even get to the part where I smuggle live roosters across the Mexican/Afghanistan border in my jeans,” McWhithervane pouted. “Oprah said that she found that passage the most emotionally devastating part of my journey towards myself!”
“You see, writers…writers are a delicate breed,” stated Carlie Rorschach, President of Semi-Fictional True Story Writers of America (SFTSWA). “The simplest thing will make them all sulky and unwilling to write.”
Rorschach cited the example of Elvira Infantre, whose bestselling teen novel Molly Devine Learns Her Lesson was being read primarily by octogenarian prison inmates. Male octogenarian prison inmates. What made it even worse was that the passage they turned to most frequently depicted a spanking.
“Elvira was devastated,” Rorschach said. “The spanking scene was intended to be a tender right of passage that empowered teenage female readers of the book, not…what it obviously became! Last I heard, Elvira had turned her back on writing to start a free range stock broker farm.”
Believe it or not, the villain of this story is the American Library Association (ALA).
“We get to be the villain?” crowed ALA President Fitzie Adamantyne. “Really? I…I’ve never been a villain before. Do I look like a villain? I mean, I don’t think I could even grow a moustache! Can I – can I get back to you after I’ve bought a trench coat?”
“Damn straight they’re the villain!” Rorschach explained. “They collect the data from everybody’s digital book readers and make it available in real time on the association’s Web site. The American Library Association is killing literature!”
“Oooh, we get to be a murderer!” Adamantyne enthused, holding one finger above his upper lip in approximation of a moustache. “How’s this for an evil laugh? Bwahaha hack hack hack! Sorry. Something went down the wrong way. Give me a second to grab a glass of water and, uhh, can I get back to you on the evil laugh?”
Living authors are not the only ones being affected by the collection of data from readers of ebooks. One study has shown that 73 per cent of high school students do not read Shakespeare’s Hamlet, choosing, instead, to read Cliff’s Notes of Cole’s Notes of Bibi’s Notes of the famous play. Worse, students who do try to read Hamlet add notes to their text like: “Dude, how can I understand what you’re saying if you don’t speak English?”, “Dude, why don’t you just kill him and get it over with?” and, inevitably, “Dude, where can I find the Cliff’s Notes of the Cole’s Notes of the Bibi’s Notes of this lame-o play?”
Clearly, this technology
“Hey!” McWhithervane interrupted my concluding paragraph, “Shakespeare’s dead, okay? I’m alive. You started the article with a sympathetic explanation of my situation, why don’t you conclude it with a heartrending description of how I’m suffering because of my trials?”
Because I’m out of space.