Soft Apocalypse 05/02/2011
 
Barnes & Noble offers a free ebook every week through the Nook blog. I love this, because, well, what's not to love about a free book? Often it's the first book of a series, free for a limited time to hook you on the series, and I've discovered some wonderful series this way. (And spent plenty of money on the rest of the series, naturally. Thanks, B&N.) 

I've also discovered some really awful books this way. 

I shouldn't be writing yet about this week's free book, Soft Apocalypse by Will McIntosh, since I've only read a few pages and I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to finish it. It's not fair to remark on a book you haven't read in its entirety. There could be brilliant gems of magic hidden deep within this book. I have to admit, though, the beginning is not promising. 

Here's a selection of actual dialogue from the opening scene: 

"It's so hard to believe," Colin said as we crossed the steaming, empty parking lot toward the bowling alley. 
"What?" 
"That we're poor. That we're homeless." 
"I know." 
I mean, we have college degrees," he said. 
"I know," I said. 

I'm sorry, Mr. McIntosh. I haven't read your whole book yet--and to be fair, I really want to. I love the premise--it's about a slow apocalypse instead of the usual sudden one, set in a realistic near future in which issues like energy scarcity and overpopulation result in a slow dip in living standards for more and more people. It's a brilliant idea, and I really want to see how he pictures this world, especially since I think his premise is not at all unlikely. And just because I love apocalypse novels on principle. 

But everyone can see what's so terribly wrong with that dialogue, right? It's a classic example of an "As You Know, Bob," in which two characters tell each other something they both already know so that the reader can learn this information. This technique was actually quite common in some eras of literature, especially in early science fiction, but these days it's generally considered unnecessary. It's telling, not showing, and it often results in stilted dialogue since in real life people don't usually talk much about things they both already know. There are lots of other ways to show me that these characters are homeless. I would have figured that out pretty quickly by watching them set up their tents by the side of the road. It also wouldn't have been hard to show that they were educated. The main character could have read a literary book that he's managed to keep hold of. He could have remembered something from college. His friend could have teased him about being too book-smart and not street-smart enough. The characters could have reminisced about how much easier their lives used to be and how much their standards have changed. Anything other than a conversation full of "I know." 

I am going to try to keep reading this book, though. As I said, I love the premise. I have a feeling that the uniqueness and timeliness of the idea made the agent and publisher a lot more forgiving of minor writing mistakes like this. Having a good story is more important than perfect writing. But this sort of thing really grates on me. Is it just because I'm a writer and I spend way too much time researching nitpicky things not to do as a writer? Or does this sort of thing bother a lot of readers? 
 
 
For Christmas last year, my husband gave me one of the best gifts ever: $500 in gift cards to Barnes & Noble. (No, he didn't spend that much. As part of his bonus from work, he was able to choose gift cards from one of several companies. He chose the gift card he knew I'd love and gave me his entire bonus.) Since I'd recently gotten an iPhone, I decided to try to get more books for my money by buying ebooks. And while ebooks will never entirely replace "real" books for me, I can definitely understand the appeal. I love being able to read in bed without bothering anyone with a nightlight. I love never being without the book I'm currently reading--or at least always having something in my pocket I can read. And I love going on vacation without having to bring an extra bag just for my books. 

But I hate not being able to lend these books to anyone. Yes, I have the Nook app now, which is supposed to allow me to lend books to friends who are lucky enough to also have a Nook or a Nook app. But the lending technology has to have been approved by the publisher for that specific book, and many of them--most of them, in fact--don't have it. So I might very well end up having to buy these books again, in paperback at least, so I have copies to lend out. Some of them are just too good not to share. 

Here are the books I discovered digitally but might have to add to my real library as well: 

* The Uglies series and the Midnighters series by Scott Westerfeld 
* The Temeraire series by Naomi Novik (probably just the first three books in the series) 
* A long list of books by Connie Willis: To Say Nothing of the Dog, Blackout, and  Passage, at the very least. The Domesday Book, I'm happy to say, was not available as an ebook, so I already bought it in paperback. Come by and borrow it sometime.