Warren Adler's Blog, page 60

Cannes

We didn't go to San Tropez with Ava and Chris. We're saving that two and a half hour ride when my sons arrive. Our first big sorties will be to Cannes where we once spent a summer on Mt. Floury overlooking the Carlton. Regret not buying that apartment.

Reports say it's hot as hell in New York. Here the problem is rain. My landlord tells me it hasn't rained like this in June in his memory. My Danish friends will be arriving this weekend. Look forward to renewing auld acquaintance.

Villefranche-sur-Mer

Last night I had dinner at Le Cosmo a little restaurant at the port at Villefranche-sur-Mer where we went to school a few years ago learn French. Unfortunately, we failed at fluency. But contrary to prevailing opinion we found all those we asked for help to be wonderfully foregoing and eager to please. But then I always reject prevailing opinion. Today started out sunny and gorgeous. We took a long walk to St. John Cap Ferrat for lunch along a beautiful walk from the little beach at Beaulieu to the little line of restaurants around the port. Unfortunately the rainclouds arrived and we just made it back to our car.

Off to Beaulieu

Sunny and I are leaving for a month on the Riviera, the beautiful village of Beaulieu a few miles from Nice. We know the area having spent a month in a nearby town Ville France Sur Mer at a school trying to learn French, my lifetime dream. Never did learn properly although I manage mostly using a small phrase intoned with a perfect accent. Je voudrais, meaning "I want", then I mime the request. Works most of the time.

The villa we're renting is owned by my friends Jon Pierre and Suzy Farout and apparently has hosted a number of scribblers like myself. In addition to entertaining children and friends I'll be spending my time writing poetry and short stories to feed my compulsive writing obsession, reading Balzac and Simenon, sipping fine wine and enjoying my lifetime love and palship with Sunny.

We'll be taking long walks on Cap Ferrat, a bit of gambling in Monaco, and then visits to St. Tropez and Cannes, where we once spent a great summer on Mount Floury overlooking the sparkling sea and the lovely white beaches.

My last visit to this area spawned a novel "The David Embrace" (available now on Amazon). I suppose it might be dubbed a psychological thriller, although my books rarely fit any preordained labels. Friends have asked me to post daily and I'll try my best to fulfill their wishes. We're leaving tomorrow on a Delta flight direct to Nice. Forgive my French spellings which will be most wrong but c'est la vie.

E-Books: Unintended Consequences

While I have often patted myself on the back for recognizing more than fifteen years ago that e-books would one day surpass the printed book as the ultimate first choice of dedicated readers everywhere, I had not reckoned on the unintended consequences of an unfiltered tsunami of self-published books that would one day overtake the traditional distribution patterns of the publishing industry.

The number of self-published e-books has surpassed and will continue to surpass, by far, books published through the time-honored process of editing and distribution that has been the practice of publishing companies for centuries.

A cottage industry that was once denigrated as an exercise in vanity for wannabe writers who could not get published through established channels, has become a burgeoning industry for entrepreneurs who produce, promote, publish and sell marketing services to those authors who choose to go this route.

Online bookstores such as Amazon, Nook and iPad are eager to publish these efforts looking to increase the volume of sales through betting that every book published will garner some sales, however miniscule. If every author of a self-published book, for example, sold 25 copies to relatives and friends, that would result in sales of millions of which the online bookstore would get a piece.

Believe me, I am in no way insulting the efforts of such authors who choose this mode of self-expression. There is a lot to say for the psychic joys of creating and publishing a book and hopefully getting it in the hands of a reader. Many of these authors have spent sweat, treasure and time writing and then trying to market their work to agents, editors, publishers, film producers and whoever is in the business of monetizing their efforts. The overwhelming majority have not succeeded in attracting their attention for reasons that are often obscure and baffling.

And while there are countless categories of books being offered within non-fiction and fiction areas, my own authorial interest is in the fate of the mainstream novel, a long form work of the imagination that cannot be defined by any established genre.

Having grown up on a rich diet of reading, studying and writing mainstream novels, a process that I personally consider among the highest forms of artistic expression, I worry that the ever growing glut of novels thrown into cyberspace will make it extremely difficult, if not impossible, for the reader to differentiate between authors and find those who reach into the heart of their understanding, insight and pleasure.

With the shrinking output of traditional sources of book information and reviews in newspapers and magazines, the fractionalizing of online sites dealing with reviewing books and the collapse of the usual so called quality filters, the methods of book selection, particularly serious mainstream fiction is severely restricted.

The great breakout books by serious authors that gained attention in the last century like Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Faulkner, Joyce, Greene, Maugham, Waugh, O'Hara and numerous others that transcend my personal bias will be tough acts to follow simply because they will be difficult to cut from the giant pack of novel offerings. Authors will be hard put to get their books noticed, reviewed and honestly recommended.

Of course, traditional publishers are attempting a wide variety of marketing experiments and strategies to extend the public reach of their authors, but the impact on advances and sales will be profound. Authors already well branded in the age before e-books will survive, of course, but their readership will diminish in the future as the marketing funnels become clogged and their original enthusiastic fans die out.

There will be opportunities in the film and television markets if authors are lucky enough to have their books adapted to those mediums, especially if the producers keep the book titles intact. But even that will be no guarantee of crossover sales.

Since most things are transitory and unintended consequences can morph into other unintended consequences and corrections, the chances are that authors, publishers, Internet innovators, or various consultants and deep thinkers will find a way to create "differentiation" methods so that readers can find their most meaningful personal reading choices, I am forever optimistic.

For those authors who see this essay as portending gloom and doom, take heart. At the very least the serious author of imaginative fiction will no longer have to see his or her work live a life of perpetual exile in a computer file or in the bottom drawer of his or her home desk.

Warren Adler is the author of 32 novels and short story collections published in numerous languages. Films adapted from his books include "The War of the Roses", "Random Hearts" and the PBS trilogy "The Sunset Gang." He is a pioneer in digital publishing.

Evil as Entertainment

The further in time one gets from World War 2, its savagery and ruthlessness, the horrors of the holocaust, the destruction of cities and the senseless massacre of millions of soldiers and civilians, the more the memory begins to resemble a filmed entertainment complete with make believe pain and what passes for realism and authenticity.

One begins to see a growing army of doubters and deniers alleging that the horrors perpetrated by the Nazis were exaggerations for purposes of propaganda by the allies who needed to portray the Nazis as Neanderthals.

The changes in perceptions, despite all the historical data, the endless documentaries and books attesting to the abject cruelty of the Nazis and their allies, the laws that Germany has enacted to prevent such a bestial catastrophe from happening again, are beginning to find traction in the old and new media. We no longer turn away in horror, but often observe these events  merely as spectacle, a performance by others for our entertainment.

Remarks by a Danish filmmaker about his sympathy for Hitler elicits chuckles, despite his slap on the wrist punishment, and a holocaust denier becomes head of the oil cartel. Sympathy for Israel, once the plucky little democracy created by the UN in the aftermath of the holocaust as a haven for this oppressed minority is now considered a menace to its billion strong neighbors and must now justify to the world its right to exist as a Jewish nation. Apparently the shortest distance between two points is human memory.

Perhaps there is so much evil being portrayed in the fiction of films and books that it seems commonplace to believe that real evil is also fiction. Even the most bizarre and tragic circumstances like peaceful protesters being killed on orders of power mad dictators, devastating floods, fires and earthquakes, massacres by machete, beheadings, suicide bombings, and an endless catalogue of assorted horrors are seen, if one isn't at risk, as mere entertainments.

To most of us the bloody conflict seen on our screens seems repetitive and ordinary. We shrug with vague acceptance when we learn that the weaponry of mass destruction is proliferating, that religious wars are accelerating, that true believers of one cause or another butcher true believers of opposing causes. Mankind seems to float on a river of blood. All of this is filmed, packaged and sent to our homes and offices through the miracle of technology. We are voyeurs of evil. We love it.

There are, for example, thousands of Internet sites set up by ultra fascist groups hawking monstrous accusations against the same imagined enemies conceived by Hitler and his supporters. Many of his ideas have been recast, notably in Arabic and used to promote Jihad and brainwash potential suicide bombers.  Copycat Nazi hate machines have been rejuvenated, thanks to the Internet and they are gaining adherents and supporters.

One might say it has always been thus. Evil is mankind's hobby. Killing fields are everywhere.

Of course, the great stars in this mass charade are the so-called leaders who orchestrate their appearance with contrived props, cheering crowds, their words packaged for digital dissemination. It's getting so that every time I see and hear a speech by a politician I think of Charlie Chaplin and his indelible performance of Adolph Hitler in the film, The Great Dictator.

If there is any bottom line to all this sturm and drang it is that if it is not happening to you directly, it is merely entertainment. And if it is happening to you, rest assured that others will be viewing your agony on a screen somewhere holding a bowl of popcorn, mesmerized by the spectacle.

We Have All Been Googleized

When no weapons of mass destruction were found in Iraq, a segment of the American public called then President George W. Bush a liar. His administration countered that most intelligence agencies of our principal allies believed, too, that Saddam Hussein had such weapons.

I do not believe that President Bush was lying. But I do believe that some cunning character in the intelligence chain had contrived the falsehood in such a way that it gained credence throughout the world, aided and abetted by Saddam who must have been enjoying the charade until it blew up in his face.

That was eight years ago. Since that time technology has moved ahead at warp speed and it would be doubtful that such a lie could be perpetrated so flawlessly. Indeed, the recent killing of Osama Bin Laden illustrates the point. Technology is making it increasingly difficult to get away with a cunning lie.

Bin Laden's whereabouts were studied and pinpointed. Advanced technology made it possible for the Navy Seal helicopters to sneak into Pakistan undetected, do the job, then beat a quick retreat, albeit with the probable loss of the technological know-how embedded in a destroyed helicopter tail that made it possible. DNA technology made Osama's identity proof positive. What is even more remarkable was that the entire operation was observed as if it were a reality television show.

What I am trying to illustrate is that we have all become googleized and it is becoming increasingly impossible for any public figure to lie about anything. Nothing can be hidden. Instant research has arrived. There are no secrets. Technology is making it impossible to lie.

There is, in fact, little wiggle room for hypocrisy. For example, when the President of Pakistan denies that elements in Pakistan had made it possible for Bin Laden to live there and continue to operate, no one, including his own people, could possible believe him.

While I am dealing here with public figures, I make that claim for private people as well. Technology has narrowed the options for lying in every public activity from petty crimes like speeding to serious crimes like murder. There are cameras everywhere. People are watching and listening. Privacy is swiftly disappearing. Like most things about technology, it has a good side and a bad side.

For a public figure it spells the end of hypocrisy, which is especially confusing for those like me who were brought up on George Washington's story of the cherry tree. Yes, I did chop down that tree.

When our leaders tell us that we are going to war to protect civilians from being massacred in Libya, and then blandly ignore the brutal massacres of innocent civilians in Syria for example, we wink at each other. We know this is a lie because technology has brought us the truth in pictures from smart phones and sound recordings from victims in Syria.

It is getting more and more impossible to lie. Wall Streeters who profit from inside information are also vulnerable to technological advances. Ditto for organized crime and other attempts to operate clandestinely.

We've come a long way from the days when Thomas Jefferson could deny his affair with the underage Sally Hemmings.  And Newt will have a tough time rationalizing his tawdry adultery record although the Bill Clinton experience does offer a game plan for how to beat the system by redefining the meaning of words as in what physical action constitutes having sex.

When the White House invited a rap star who has disparaged cops, excused a convicted cop killer and purveyed pandering hate lyrics, googleization made it impossible to deny it, and the administration spokespeople were forced to provide pretzel-like explanations that sounded foolish, sanctimonious and blatantly hypocritical.

It should be obvious that technology has ushered in a new age of transparency. Nothing will be safe from the seeing eye and the hearing ear. My meager examples are just the tip of the proverbial iceberg. In fact, the iceberg has already melted.

On a public scale the upcoming Presidential election will be the most totally transparent public vetting of the century. Hypocrisy will not cut it. Lies will be impossible. Every media meister from every political persuasion in the world will be playing "gotcha" in visible chapter and verse. There will be no place to hide. Speeches will have to be totally googleized and teleprompters had better be working.

If there is a glimmer of hope for our species it might be that technology will force us all to adopt again the old verities trumpeting honesty, morality, ethics, compassion, fairness and decency.

The facts are that the gates of privacy have been breached forever. Perhaps the last bastion is the human mind itself, where the imagination still reigns supreme and thoughts are protected in the buried vaults of the human brain. If that is ever penetrated from outside by technology, God help us all.

Can I Please Talk with Someone who Speaks American English?

Has anyone out there had this experience?

You put in a call to customer service of a company whose stated goals are to correct problems, field complaints, offer instructions or make reservations for airlines or hotels or whatever. This service is advertised heavily and assures the customer that all inquiries will be prompt, efficient and helpful.

An automated voice will prompt you to make decisions that will hasten your inquiry and either attempt to correct your problem by pushing buttons or, if a live agent is busy, politely ask you to wait. Many of these automated services will give you a heads up on how long it will be before you are connected with a live operator.

Most of us have accepted this impersonal process and have put up with it despite the frustrations and one-sided inability to react to a human voice connected to a human intelligence.

I guess one might justify this hardship on the basis of our tolerance of paying the price in inconvenience that comes along with the astounding gadgetry that has revolutionized our lives. Those of us who grew up in another era where such matters were handled via live people exercising human intelligence might curse this increasingly automated world, but the fact is that it is here to stay and I suppose we will have to accept its frustrations and live with it.

My beef, which is the subject of this essay, is what occurs when you do, at long last, reach a live person. What we usually get on the other end of the line is someone that speaks in a tongue that is allegedly English but is, for the most part, incomprehensible, deeply accented and missing the subtle nuances and pronunciation that makes all the difference in clear and comprehensive voice communication.

I am all for the global marketplace, but in this area of the spoken word, my experience has been so frustrating that I must lodge a fervent protest, even to the wind, that this practice by some of our most beloved and successful companies is painfully counterproductive and, in a number of ways, irritating and regressive

The most obvious negative concerns employment. In this time of high unemployment why can't these jobs be filled by our own countrymen and women who speak American English?  Think of the thousands of unemployed who would use their native born assets to earn their keep and help us all crawl out of the terrible burdens imposed by unemployment.

Yes, I can understand that there are Americans who will resist taking back breaking seasonal agricultural jobs now being filled by cheap and desperate labor from Mexico, but customer service is the kind of job that Americans can welcome and, in the process, improve the public relations of those companies who employ thousands of workers in third world countries.

Am I the only complaining party? Where is the outrage? I have resisted mentioning the companies I deal with by name, although it is a common practice of all American based companies these days.

Whenever I get a heavily accented voice on a customer service line my blood pressure goes up ten points as I try my best to communicate with the person on the other end of the call. I try to be polite but it wastes precious time and energy to make the connection, if ever. Sometimes I will simply hang up in frustration and seriously try to avoid the company that employs these foreign voices. Such practices seem to negate the whole idea of customer service.

Okay, it is not true of everybody, and I suppose the companies calculate that if they get fair results fifty percent of the time it is worth the candle, especially since they are employing labor at what is undoubtedly cheaper wages than they would have to pay Americans.

Having spilled some bile over this, I'll bet you have me down as an ingrate for not mentioning the problems of Spanish speakers and those immigrants who arrive in America with no knowledge of English. I do not know of the difficulties encountered when callers choose Spanish language customer service.

Having grown up in a world of immigrants speaking another language, I can sympathize with their plight. On the other hand it is inescapable that the English language will continue to predominate in America for the foreseeable future and those who do not use and understand it as a necessity to live and flourish in our culture will be marginalized and their futures seriously obstructed.

I understand the realities of the global marketplace and disparity in the cost of labor that makes American companies salivate when they can shrink their labor cost by hiring foreign workers. While I do admit a jingoistic urge when it comes to sending jobs overseas, I understand also the realities of cost reduction and the profit motive.

In this case, however, I have no reservations in calling for these jobs to be brought back to our shores.  It is a foolish and counterproductive practice in an era of high unemployment at home. I suppose an argument can be made that these global companies are helping third world citizens to become consumers of American products, but that offers no solace to those here at home who are having a tough time finding jobs.

It is not often when a personal predilection and complaint fits into such dual categories meaning that it would be both good for people like me who use customer services frequently and good for providing jobs for unemployed Americans.

A Dose of Realism for Aspiring Authors

The announcement that Penguin Books is getting into the self-publishing genre fiction game was inevitable. Under the guise of a talent search, a la "American Idol," Penguin and other publishing entities, including many startups soon to overload the field, the promise of so-called "literary" fame and fortune will be the lure and the goal of the sponsors, as always, will be profits.

In general terms, here is the way it will work. Authors with hopes and dreams of becoming known genre writing brands will post their work in the various genres and sub-genres in the fields of romance, detective, fantasy, science fiction, vampires, zombies and on and on into numerous subcategories within subcategories.

According to newspaper reports, in addition to complete works, individual chapters and short stories, the authors can also post ideas, outlines and whatever else their creative writing urges dictate. Readers will interact, provide comments, suggestions and conversation, critique characters, plots and other aspects of particular interest in whatever genre fits their fancy.

One of the obvious hurdles to this potpourri will be the copyright challenges and the risk of what one can best describe as "stolen ideas," a vague definition that will raise hackles on those who believe their ideas spring from original inspiration. In my long career as a novelist I have discovered that many people, who believe in their imaginative uniqueness, will quickly learn that numerous minds in many lands have concocted similar ideas, plots and characters that tend to be mirror images of each other. Intellectual property lawyers will have a field day.

What the publishers and website sponsors hope is that there might be one or two breakout books that they might scoop up for commercial exploitation, while mining money through fees and advertising based upon what the sponsor hopes will be a vast audience of readers and wannabe genre fiction writers.

This critique in no way is meant to denigrate the individual writers who will step up and accept the challenge. I believe strongly in the creative impulse that motivates authors who write creative fiction, even those who work with the tight restraints of the genre palette.

Indeed, getting their work out to be read and commented on by others will garner many personal psychic rewards, especially if some readers register approval of their work. Unfortunately, they will have to bear the brunt of a compendium of negative comments, a kind of multiple rejection process that will be difficult for those who cannot face negativity with a well armored constitution. Internet comments are rife with such postings, especially if they are anonymous.

There is no question that wannabe professional genre writers will flock to the Penguin site and others in operation or about to be. Many will have been badly bruised by an endless search for agents and traditional publishers. Most will believe that their work deserves a broad audience and will yearn for the time when they can quit their day job and earn enough money to support themselves with their writing.

Such fantasies equate with dreams of winning the lottery. Rising above the chatter of millions of books available on the Net will be the author's challenge, whether they are aspiring or established. Unlike the brief performance segments on "American Idol" or the song business in general, reading or listening to a book takes considerable time and mental concentration. Reading is not a casual enterprise.

Consider this then a cautionary tale of what writers who post on Penguin and other burgeoning sites will have to face. The odds of finding a traditional publisher or agent in this uncertain environment will be beyond formidable. Even if one were lucky enough to acquire them through this process, the cash advance is likely to run from small to none. Nevertheless, expect to hear success stories, promotional ploys designed to keep the pump primed for the sponsors and continue to attract more and more postings. Caveat Emptor!

On the other hand, such postings will provide psychic joy to aspiring authors in the genre field. They will be able to point with pride to the fact that their book has been published. People might comment on the text, a good sign that some have read the material which is the object of the exercise. That alone could be well worth the effort for some.

In general, the creation of such material is a remarkable achievement for anyone. It is extremely difficult to write a long form genre novel, an awesome challenge to the imagination and one's self-discipline. There is a lot to say for such an achievement.

As for expectations of achieving popularity, fame, fortune, praise or discovery, authors should temper their hopes with realism.

On the plus side, remember, someone always wins the lottery.

Warren Adler is the author of 32 novels and short story collections. "The War of the Roses," adapted from his novel is an international classic. Other films include "Random Hearts," with Harrison Ford and "The Sunset Gang."

How I Got the Idea: Fiona FitzGerald

It was the early eighties and the mass media consensus on gender was undergoing a massive change. Women were on the march and the emphasis was on both upward mobility and equality on all fronts, especially in the workplace.

In the culture of imaginative fiction, the concept of the heroic figure was being "genderized" and the notion of the female cop, soldier, firefighter, construction worker and other jobs once considered male turf was swiftly disappearing.

Although I had never tackled the mystery genre which was growing in popularity, my agent persuaded me to take the plunge and since I lived in the metropolitan Washington area, I decided to use the police department that covered the nation's capitol as my venue. In casting around for a knowledgeable female who could give me some insight into the inner workings of the department and her own psyche I was lucky to find an experienced female homicide detective, Judy Roberts, who led me deep into the entrails of the mindset and procedure of police work as seen through the female perspective.

Thus was born Fiona FitzGerald, a brilliant young white woman, working with the largely black dominated police force. Because I was familiar with the political and social circles of the power elite in Washington, I conceived the idea of Fiona working only on those cases that involved that segment of the Washington upper crust.

The first book in the series "American Quartet," dealt with a failed politician whose twisted mind conceived of the idea of staging a replication of the assassinations of our four American Presidents. It was cited for that year by the New York Times as being one of the most outstanding mystery books of that year. The series was born, although the background of Fiona was to undergo a profound change after the second book "American Sextet" was published.

In the first two books, Fiona's father was a New York cop and she had grown up in that city. As with all of my books, the movie people beckoned and I found myself discussing film projects with a number of producers. One of them suggested to me that instead of making Fiona, the daughter of New York cops, it might be more interesting to make her the daughter of a prominent Senator who had grown up in Washington.

The idea appealed to me for many reasons and I made the change, immersing her in a culture that I knew a great deal about. She was now ensconced in the heady precincts of elite Washington with many contacts in that world, social, political and media and allow me the opportunity to expand on all the possibilities inherent in that milieu.

In the five books that followed, she was assigned to investigate murders that related to the power elite. It was a world I knew well. Readers addicted to the series would unfortunately be confused by the sudden change of background but I took the plunge and got few complaints.

A new publisher, founded by an experienced former executive of a major publishing company, decided to take on the series and I consented to move Fiona to his new company. This gave me the opportunity to fix Fiona's background in the first two books and make her uniformly the daughter of a Senator. I rewrote parts of the first two books to fix this situation and saw in this new publisher a chance for Fiona to go on indefinitely solving murders among the players in the power structure.

Alas, it was not to be. The new publisher went bankrupt before he could launch the full series and I was forced to continue with the original publisher. Thus, in the first two books, Fiona remains the daughter of a New York cop, although in the subsequent books she had been transformed into her new incarnation.

Nevertheless, the movie and TV people continue to pursue the idea of starring Fiona. Two film companies have optioned the Fiona books. NBC has optioned the material twice, once for movie of the week and once for a series. Scripts have been commissioned, including one by yours truly and another prominent television writer, but, so far, she hasn't found her television or movie legs.  Nevertheless the books continue to be in play and there is some optimism that Fiona will once again be on her way to movie or television stardom.

In the meantime there are always the seven books and she has a growing fan club.

My Book Problem

In another few weeks, I will be moving to another apartment in the same building in Manhattan where I have spent the past few years. While moving in itself is a traumatic event as everyone knows, my principal problem is books.

I have a huge collection of books. In the three or four major moves in my lifetime I have culled, boxed, given away and donated thousands of books.  During each nesting experience, however, I have acquired yet more books and have repeated the culling process each time. I could never pass a bookstore without buying one or more books.

The fact is that I am probably a bibliophile in my soul. I love books. Reading books takes up much of my time, when I am not writing books. For years I have collected sets of leather bound books by favorite authors. It is a valuable collection. I have leather bound books by Shakespeare, Tolstoy, Dickens, Hardy, O'Henry, Balzac, Henry James, Turgenev, Twain, de Maupassant, and on and on. To list them all would make this essay endless.

I also have duplicate copies of my own books in every language in which they have been translated and published. They amount to hundreds of copies. I will never part with them. They are as much a part of me as my DNA.

I love reading novels, older novels and contemporary novels. My tastes are eclectic. I have many non-fiction books as well, on politics, history and religion with particular emphasis on American history, which is yet another passion.

Now here is the kicker.

I am a pioneer in electronic publishing. All of my books have been reversed from major publishers and been digitized since the late nineties. I have for years been touting the inevitable switch from print to digital. It was a no brainer bound to happen. And it has reached the tipping point.

I made the first pitch for digital books on handheld reading devices at the Las Vegas International Consumer Electronics Show for the SONY reader when it was introduced in 2007. I bought one of the first Kindles and for kicks have been collecting other reading devices like the iPad and the Nook.

For years I have been addressing groups on the joys of reading content on screens. At first my reception had been hostile. I have listened to same complaints ad infinitum. They all have the same ring. I love the tactile feel of a book. I love the smell of ink and paper. I love to hold them. Books are my friends. I like to see them on my shelves. A curse on screen-read books.

My response is always the same. I feel your pain. I cite other examples of lost items, both corporal and emotional: The clip clop sound of a horse's hooves on city streets, the beauty of horse drawn vehicles, the smell and sounds of sizzling logs in fireplaces, the fading art of writing letters, the lost joys of childhood, the reassuring scratches made by pen points dipped in inkwells, my mother's cooking, the reassuring house calls of the family doctor, the old New York Herald Tribune, penny candy, knickers, saddle shoes, the Brooklyn Dodgers. It didn't bring tears to the eyes of my audience and did not soften the blows to my advocacy of digital books.

I would explain to those early listeners and those I speak to today that there is a lot to say for the psychic joys of a physical book, but, in the end, there is one hard truth that is inescapable. The heart of a book is its content. Content trumps all. When all is said and done reading is a one on one communication system, an author's presentation of his or her insights, stories, opinions, a distillation of his or her thoughts, instructive, inspirational, original, and, in its own way, a miracle of transference through words. I suppose one can find numerous other definitions, both literary and instructive. Content and its dissemination is the beating heart of civilization. Enough said. I'm sure the point is made.

In one tiny device, Kindle, Nook, iPad et al, I can fit the content of every book on my shelves and can, if I chose, soon be able to download at my whim the content of my choice  among most books ever published since the discovery that content can be portable.

That said, it does not diminish my love of physical books as objects of admiration and devotion.

But here I am culling once again. I find I am being more ruthless than ever with less second thoughts or pangs of conscience on what to keep and what to discard. I no longer really want to shelve paperbacks and am making my culling judgments on the basis of my emotional attachments, my love of the content presented by those authors who have truly moved me, whose content has given me hours of pleasure and made a difference in my understanding of the human condition.

I will keep those books in my new apartment as a monument to my love of books and my favorite authors as well as a symbol of enduring friendship.

Oh yes, one more thought. While I can enjoy the sight of seeing many of my "friends" tucked comfortably on my bookshelves, I can now carry these "friends" everywhere I go and in both a physical and symbolic sense hold them close to my heart.