Given the increasing cacophony of loose talk, gossip, opinion, bloviation, monologue, theory, and BS in verbal and written word that has become a constant chorus in American society, it may come as a surprise to learn that at one time the United States government undertook a major campaign to get Americans to stuff a sock in it, lock their lips and throw away the key.

From 1941-1945, the Office for Emergency Management's Office of War Information, Domestic Operations Branch, Bureau of Special Services commissioned a series of posters to mobilize Americans to be mindful that the enemy might be listening, so clam up.

While the circumstances and rationale during World War II were dramatically different, think  how radical it would be if the government were to declare a day of national silence, for no other reason than to give us all a break from the din of crapulous white noise that has become the soundtrack to our daily lives and to instill an appreciation of, and for, the value and virtue of quietude. The enemy may be listening, and the enemy is us.

It'll never happen. But in its stead, please join me in a few moments of silence for the dearly departed, silence:


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And now for the role of books in fighting the war:


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In fin, the War Office's salute to International Womanhood:


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The National Archives has a trove of public domain imagery. You could do worse than to spend a few hours going through its holdings, most of which are available for digital download.


Biblio-folk are showing up in interesting places these days. I joined Facebook a long time ago...and largely ignored it until relatively recently. Over the past several months, however, there has been a tremendous surge in book people (dealers/collectors/etc) who seem to be coming out of the woodwork. The ABAA now has a FB Page (as does Lux Mentis), ready for "Fans" to join and follow, as does Fine Books & Collections. The Rare Book School's Page has nearly 450 Fans... There are also many...many...many groups that are biblio-theme, from collecting to author-specific to elements of the craft.

When I started poking about FB, there were *very* few book dealers who had accounts, now there are literally too many count. Some are active, some on personally, others professionally and some just lurk...but there are a remarkable number of the biblio-crowd on FB and more joining every day. It is rapidly becoming a vibrant network to keep your pulse on the doings of the trade, hobby and/or obsession.

Linked-In is another site I've been for a very long time...more actively when I did more consulting work, but I kept my profile active and periodically checked on bookish elements there. Recently, in addition to a number of "serious" dealers beginning to be found there, more than one "book group" has formed (admittedly, one by me).

Last for today, and certainly not least, is Twitter. I am quite fond of it, as it updates nicely from my iPhone and auto-updates my FB page, killing two feeds with one, so to speak. A considerable number of people are beginning to use it in interesting ways. Publishers are using it around news, booksellers are carefully using it for traffic and sales (a tricky issue, as there is a general "anti-commercial" use sentiment...but very effective in good hands, as here). Personally, I find I tend to post biblio-related missives with a bit of news and a bit of "things that amuse/annoy me"....and I tend to most enjoy those who do the same.

There are beginning to be some good focus-centers for books Twitterers. WeFollow has a well developed "Bookseller" tag (we can be found on page two). There is also a "BookCollecting" tag that I am experimenting with...

Potentially more useful (and still "emerging") is Twibes, where tweets that share common words can be grouped for easy review. See: Books, BookCollecting, BookDealers and/or Librarians (the last very active, with over 700 members).

This, in addition to the various blogs that are out there...many feeding each other. One of the nice things, frankly, with FB is that many/most of the best book blogs are either mirrored there or are part of NetworkedBlogs there, streamlining one's reading/following (though not, at this point, entirely replacing a good RSS reading).

There is a tremendous abundance of bookish news, personal and professional. Enjoy the data-stream...
EAST ELMHURST, QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY. March 3, 1964. Detectives from the Major Case Squad of the Queensborough Library report that a copy of The Story of George Gershwin by David Ewen has now been missing for three weeks beyond its due date. They haven't a clue.

Dear Diary:
They're on my trail. I meant to take the book back but now it's three weeks, I owe fines, and I can't ask my DNA donors for help: The female will verbally torture me, and the male will gently toss me in the air with his left hand, then, both hands gripping the Louisville Slugger with my name on it, swing and swat me going, going, gone! out of the ballpark.

I fear I shall never become the success in life that Mom insists upon.

EAST ELMHURST, QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY. September 21, 1965. Stephen J. Gertz, 14, has won the J.H.S. 141 Talent Show with his virtuoso air-clarinet impression of Artie Shaw playing the opening obbligato to George Gershwin's Rhapsody In Blue backwards followed by a sophomoric and shameful impression of "a spaz singing I Got Rhythm."

Dear Diary:
I am consumed by George Gershwin. It must stop. I fear I may accidentally confess under the crushing weight of guilt that I bear. The Fugitive, starring David Janssen, is my new favorite TV show. It's about a kid wrongly accused of library theft who flees in order to find the real book thief and on his odyssey meets interesting people who give him food, clothing and shelter because he doesn't have a job much less a credit card. Or a bank account. Or driver's license, for that matter.

EAST ELMHURST, QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY. June 14, 1966. A teenaged boy was stopped by police this evening when the little pisher was observed on the corner of Ditmars Blvd and 80th Street attempting to sing It Ain't Necessarily So, from George Gershwin's opera, Porgy and Bess, in the style of Cab Calloway, who limned the role of Sportin' Life in the 1953 revival of the classic. When cornered by New York's Finest, the boy maniacally crooned, "Hidey, Hidey, Hidey Ho!" slipped his capturer's grasp and shuffled off to Buffalo.

Dear Diary:
That was a close one! I don't know how much longer my vaudevillian evasive tactics will work. There's a somebody I'm longing to see,  I hope they'll be, someone to watch over me  - but not the screws up in Sing Sing, that's for sure. I think I now owe a hundred dollars. The book only cost $5.95! Our local capo must be getting a rake-off.

EAST ELMHURST, QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY.  January 12, 1967. Detectives on the Queens Library Major Case Squad report progress in their three-year quest to capture the "The Smart-Ass Kid" as frustrated police have taken to calling the bold and crafty thief of The Story of George Gershwin by David Ewen. "He thinks he's so smart," Lt. Einstein said. "Well, he's not half as smart as he thinks he is and one day he'll outsmart himself and we'll nab him, yer darn tootin'."

Dear Diary:
Time to lam-ski. I have arranged for my parents to divorce, my mother to get custody of me, and a job for her in California, where a sunkissed miss says, "Don't be late!" that's why I can hardly wait to open up (open up! open up!) that golden gate. California, Here I Come. I shoulda won the talent show with my Jolson impression, singing Gershwin's Swanee. Right now, I'd give the world to be among the folks in D-I-X-I-E - anyplace but here. The heat is on. I still have the book, in case I can plea bargain for a suspended sentence in exchange for returning it.
 
SOMEWHERE OVER THE CONTINENTAL UNITED STATES. July 15, 1967.
Dear diary: Love the Boeing 707! I told the stewardess that even though I looked sixteen (only one more month to go!) I was really only six so she'd give me a set of kiddie flight wings and I could flirt with her. I made sure The Story of George Gershwin by David Ewen was packed along with everything else and on the moving truck before we left. With the keen criminal sophistication most often associated with Sherlock Holmes' nemesis, Moriarty, I reason that if I owe $500 buckaroos for the book I might as well keep it; I paid for it, right?

EAST ELMHURST, QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY. August 2, 1967. Stymied in their efforts to capture the criminal mastermind behind the sensational booknapping of The Story of George Gershwin by David Ewen from the Bookmobile back in '64, detectives from the Queens Library Major Case Squad have quietly put the case on ice. "One day, one day," Detective Kramden declared, "pow, zoom, to the moon with this mug."

LOS ANGELES, CA. May 3, 2009. At dawn this morning, members of the L.A.P.D.'s SWAT team descended upon a small, itsy bitsy bungalow in  West L.A. where a man was on his roof, threatening to commit suicide and take the neighborhood with him. The man was reportedly upset that he now owed $1.2 trillion in late fines, interest and penalties for a book he had borrowed from the library forty-five years ago, The Story of George Gershwin by David Ewen, and never returned due to acute irresponsibility secondary to an immature pre-frontal cortex, and he was consumed with guilt and shame. Yet still defiant.

News reporters and cameramen descended upon the scene, along with teams from Entertainment Tonight, Hollywood Insider and the Maury Povitch Show. A circus atmosphere permeated the site with peanut and cotton candy vendors working the crowd.

"J'Accuse!" the SWAT team leader, Lt. Zola, shouted to him.

"I owe $1.2 tril, I'm bigger than Citibank, BofA. I'm bigger than Madoff, whose exploits make Ponzi seem like Fonzi in comparison," the man crowed. "And I don't even have the book; I lost it thirty-five years ago. $1.2 trillion for a book? I thought Heritage Book Shop closed!"

The SWAT team took careful aim.

"Made it, Ma! Top of the world!" were his last words before the fusillade hit home.

LOS ANGELES. May 5, 2009. Funeral services were held today for Stephen J. Gertz aka The Smart-Ass Kid, Peck's Bad Boy, Wisenheimer Jones, and The Bad Seed, who was the subject of an international dragnet involving Interpol, Scotland Yard, and the KGB in connection with the theft, forty-five years ago, of The Story of George Gershwin by David Ewen, from the Queensborough Library Bookmobile. At the request of the deceased, mourners sang Gershwin's tune, Let's Call The Whole Thing Off.

______

The Story of George Gershwin by David Ewen was published in 1943 by Henry Holt & Co. R.I.P.










Back in February, I posted about the pilot of the airplane that safely crash-landed in the Hudson River, Captain Chesley Sullenberger, having a good excuse for not returning on time the library books he'd had with him on the airplane. Turns out I'm not the only one who thinks so. The San Francisco Public Library tapped "Sully" and several other minor celebrities to do some public service announcements about the Library's Fine Amnesty Week -- May 3-16, 2009. During this week, library patrons can return overdue books without the penalty of a fine.

Click here to see Sullenberger's PSA, in which he explains how the books that landed in the Hudson are now being freeze-dried and restored.  Among several other PSA's on the site, the one by comedian and "sometime reader" Josh Kornbluth is also worth watching.

And for those of you who are San Francisco locals, get over to the San Francisco Public Library and return those overdue books.  

What's your excuse?

See you in the stacks!

Here is one that could work in cities and towns across the planet.

The Milwaukee Journal Sentinel is offering readers the chance to win a bookshelf makeover. The offer accompanies Kathy Flanigan's piece in their Home and Garden section titled; Novel ideas : Style rather than pile, your cherished book collections.

"You don't have to line up books like soldiers to make a bookshelf look like a library"

Here's their pitch:

"Contest - Get a bookshelf makeover

Are your bookshelves such a mess that you won't let your friends see them?

Do you worry about pulling out a book for fear of starting an avalanche?

You need help, dear reader, and we've got it.

Send us a photo of your bookshelf disaster, along with a few sentences about the embarrassment, hilarity or inconvenience it has caused you.

The worst bookshelf will get a free makeover from interior designer Merri Cvetan of Big Bend."

Before and after photos of the winning bookshelf will be posted in a future piece.

Thanks to Ron Charles for the lead.

Image via

Nothing worthwhile ever happens in a vacuum. Authors say it all the time, because it's true: there is no greater satisfaction than the knowledge that something you have written has found an appreciative readership, and if you're really lucky, to have touched a person's life in some tangible way. Writers are inspired to soldier along and spend years on dreams and ideas that they hope ultimately will find their way between hard covers, and then cross their fingers, waiting for the response.

Reviews from critics, of course, are one of the key vital signs of the business--and it would be disingenuous of me in the extreme to suggest that I don't await their appearance with keen anticipation--but what matters the most, by far, is what readers "out there" feel about your work. Letters, emails, people you meet at public events, comments that have been posted on  blogs--all provide a means for dialogue. But I have to tell you about an event I attended last week at Lorain County Community College (LCCC) just outside of Cleveland that has left me weak in the knees.

BasbanesProject.jpgAbout a year ago, I was contacted by Kevin Hoskinson (at right, with yours truly), a professor of English at the college, with news that one of my books, "Every Book Its Reader: The Power of the Printed Word to Stir the World," had inspired the formation of a student essay program, to be called "The Books That Stir Us: The Basbanes Project." If something like that doesn't get your attention, nothing does. Using the stories related in EBIR as a model, Hoskinson had invited submission of thousand-word essays centered on a basic premise: "What one book has contributed most to the story of your current life." Hoskinson secured funding for the project, and was able to offer $500 prizes for three winning entries, selected on a blind submission basis by a panel of judges.

Basbaneswinners.JPGA total of fifty-seven essays were turned in, with books ranging from "Who Moved My Cheese?" and "The Diary of Ann Frank" to "The Lord of the Flies," "The Road Less Traveled," and the Bible.  I had the singular pleasure to be present last week at the awards ceremony, called a "celebration of books, learning, and of students." The winners--pictured here with NAB--were Sara Davidson, for "Ishmael," by Daniel Quinn; Tristan Rader, for "The Little Engine That Could," by Watty Piper; and Benjamin Willets, for "The One Straw Revolution," by Masanobu Fukuoka.

The names of all the participants, and their books, are posted on the project website, along with links to the texts of their essays, which I hope you all take some time to check out. They're wonderful, and I agree with Kevin, I wish we could have given cash awards to everyone. The festivities included the showing of a fabulous video produced by the college's marketing and broadast media coordinator, Ron Jantz, which I hope will be available for general viewing soon.  A very special day, all around--one made all the more memorable by an evening a few of us spent the night before at Progressive Field for a Red Sox-Indians game (won in the 10th inning by Boston on a Jonathan Van Every home run.)
The reason that Charles Dickens's books are so long is because he was paid by the word.

Contrary to popular belief, Dickens was not paid by the word for his books. He was, rather, paid per installment.

All but five of Dickens' novels were originally published in twenty 32-page installments in nineteen issues (the last a double installment) that sold for one shilling each, though some, i.e. Oliver Twist, were issued in ten installments.

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This formula allowed Dickens, like a modern-day soap opera writer, to whet his readers' interest in each episode and stoke their hunger to find out what would happen next. He never wrote too far in advance of the next episode, which allowed him to incorporate feedback from his readers as to how the story should unfold, or ignore his rabid fanbase: Despite desperate pleas he allowed the Grim Reaper to prematurely claim Little Nell, from The Old Curiosity Shop, as his own. (Later, Oscar Wilde, who had no patience for sentimentality, would invert it and dryly tell a friend: "It would take a heart of stone not to laugh at the death of Little Nell")

More to the point, at one shilling each, the installments were so inexpensive that just about anyone could afford them: At the time, books cost an average of thirty-one shillings, six pence (£1, 11s, 6p), a lot of money for the average British citizen of the era. The average weekly wage then was one pound; a standard book cost over a week's salary.

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Thus Dickens reached a much broader audience than if the novels had been originally issued in book form. Sketches By Boz and Oliver Twist, originally serialized in the weekly magazine, Bentley's Miscellany, were later issued in separate book form yet were subsequently issued in monthly parts: Once again, the cost of books was prohibitive for many of Dickens's readers and by reissuing the books in parts the publishers hoped to increase their financial return through volume sales of installments.

While I have yet to discover how much Dickens was paid later in his career, in 1836 he earned £20 for each monthly episode of The Pickwick Papers, an extremely handsome salary.

Yet it was not enough. For most of his career Dickens also edited and wrote for magazines. He was part owner of Household Words, which he also edited. For this, he received an annual salary of £500; with income from his contributions to the magazine his annual income was £1,163-£1,652, well over $350,000 in today's money.

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Yet Dickens enjoyed the fruits of fame to the extent that he was frequently in debt due to his lavish lifestyle. By early winter, 1843, for example, sales of Martin Chuzzlewit, whose first installment had been issued in January 1843, were poor and his publisher, Chapman & Hall, threatened to reduce his salary. He owed money, his wife was pregnant...

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Ai caramba! Bestseller needed, pronto, ASAP, PDQ, NOW...

And so Dickens wrote A Christmas Carol, and at warp speed, completing it in six weeks on top of all the other writing and editing he was simultaneously engaged with. Originally issued on December 17, 1843, it sold 6,000 copies within five days. Another 2,000 copies were printed and sold out by January 6, 1844. It was a smash success.

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But a financial disaster. Priced at five shillings to stimulate holiday gift sales, the elaborate production that Dickens, with contractual rights, insisted upon - John Leech was commissioned to produce eight illustrations, four to be hand-colored steel engravings, the others as woodcuts; expensive green end- papers were used, and then replaced with others of similar quality but yellow; the titlepage, originally printed in blue and red was re-printed in green and red; all edges gilt -  was such that the book was unable to earn a profit. Dickens blamed Chapman and Hall and broke with them.

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Most of the thirty-two page installments were forty-nine lines to the page; total words for each installment approx. 18,800 words; times twenty installments equals 376,320 total words per book. At £20 per installment, Dickens earned £400 per book. Many believe that Dickens earned a penny a word. It was less than that. He earned a farthing per word. A farthing is a quarter of a British penny. But a farthing went a lot farther in those days. That £400 in 1836 equals approximately $238,000 in today's money.

And, remember, that was for his first novel, Pickwick Papers. Nowadays, a first-time novelist needs a super-agent to get a deal like that.

The pay scale for writers has declined dramatically over the last 170 years. A farthing is beginning to look pretty good to me: "Please Sir, may I have some more?"

_____

References

Hatton & Cleaver. Bibliography of the Periodical Works of Charles Dickens.

Smith, Walter. Charles Dickens in the Original Cloth.

Allingham, Philip. A Review of Unequal Partners: Charles Dickens, Wilkie Collins & Victorian Authorship.

The Dickens Project, University of California, Santa Cruz

University of Glasgow, Book of the Month, December 1999. Charles Dickens: A Christmas Carol.

The Complete Works of Charles Dickens at dickens-literature.com

Richard Ellmann, Oscar Wilde. (1988).

A tip o' the hat to David Brass for providing images, and for explaining the mysteries of the British monetary system to me; I couldn't fathom farthings.