I Love a Good Story

I bought my daughter a Kindle for Christmas. Tammy was less than enthusiastic when I told her. Like me, she has a house full of books. Neither of us have room left to add new shelves and new books. So I thought a Kindle would be a great gift.

I own a couple of Kindles myself. Plus a Nook. I love being able to carry an entire library with me wherever I go. I love being able to buy a title online from home (often for much less than a paperback or hardback) and have instant access to the book. I love my Kindle. I love my Nook.

But I love the feel of holding a real book in my hands. I love the smell of pulp and ink and glue. I love physical books as much as I love the words printed on their pages.

So does my daughter love to own physical books. She loves to move them around on shelves. She loves to leaf through the pages to pick up bits and pieces of new knowledge. And, when Tammy reads a novel, she loves to become totally immersed in the tactile kinesthetic experience as well as the intellectual experience. She needs to touch the paper to give the experience full meaning. She needs to have real books at her fingertips, not plasticized digital images.

You may have heard that physical books are making a comeback. New independent bookstores are springing up all over the country, and even Amazon has opened its first brick and mortar store filed with real books. Publishers Weekly reports increases in hardbound and paperback sales, and decreases in e-book sales.

And the Book Industry Study Group (BISG) published a study this week proving that library patrons prefer physical books and audio books on CD to digital versions. Library circulation data confirm the BISG findings.

That’s both good news and bad news for writers. The good news is physical books in bookstores and libraries reach real readers who want to buy and read everything a writer writes. The bad news is writers get paid a smaller percentage of hardcover and paperback retail prices than the percentage they’re paid for e-books. Of course, the retail prices of hardbounds and trade paperbacks are usually much higher than e-books. I guess it all comes out in the wash.

Lately, I’ve found myself buying the hardbound or paperback versions over the Kindle or Nook versions, though sometimes I buy both. When Light and Winds and Spilled Milk came out in trade paperback, buyers of the paperback could also purchase a Kindle version for only 99 cents.

A good book is valuable in any form or format. Some folks find it easier to read digital versions. Some find it easier to read print copies. Gretta loved to listen to audio books on tape or CD.

I’m glad to see books are still viable, and I’m happy to see so many people reading or listening to stories in whichever form is most comfortable for them. I also read graphic novels and watch movies based on novels or short stories. I love a good story. Don’t you?

 

 

 

 

The Sandman:Overture is a Must-Have for Comics Collectors

The Sandman: Overture Deluxe Special Edition by Neil Gaiman and JH Williams III (Vertigo, ISBN 978-1401248693, November 2015, $24.99). The working title was Sandman: Zero. Those who remember the grand and glorious days of print publications recall that the first issue of a magazine or newspaper was unnumbered and published only in order to register the copyright or trademark. Such ashcan versions were called Issue Zero.

 

Has it already been 25 years since Gaiman’s The Sandman first appeared in print? Yes, it has. And now Morpheus, The Dream Lord in all his many and varied forms, is back where it all began.

 

Each illustrated page exists as a splash page of color and form, a montage of time and space. Williams’ art is a masterful rendering of Gaiman’s story, heavily influenced by Jim Steranko and Jack Kirby, with a little Peter Max and Andy Warhol thrown in for effect.

 

As the Dream Lord journeys to his destiny, his cat-self follows. On the way they meet a girl-child named Hope who rides upon the dream-cat, symbolizing that hope rides upon The Sandman. The Sandman is both the cure and the cause of the end of everything and he has been since the beginning.

 

There is a little of Doctor Who in The Dream Lord, in his long dark coat and know-it-all demeanor, and the ruby amulet he wears is reminiscent of the All-Seeing Eye of Agamoto in Stan Lee’s and Steve Ditko’s Doctor Strange.

 

Can the Sandman learn to kill? Must he kill to protect the dreaming? If not him, then who?

 

In the beginning was the dream. And the dream became flesh.

 

Dream’s family isn’t much different than most typical modern families. It is dysfunctional and frightening. Father Time. Mother Night. Brother Destiny and Sister Desire. Brother Destruction. Sister Delirium. We all know people like that.

 

Much of Gaiman’s work—Neverwhere, Coraline, American Gods—is surreal, and The Sandman stories are no exception. Time and space are different in Gaiman’s imagination than in reality, though reality and dream often intersect. Gaiman’s storyline twists and turns and so do the illustrations and the words themselves. JH Williams III perfectly captures Gaiman’s vision in these pages. The book is a visual artist’s dream come true, and a must-have for any comics collector.