Paragraph of the Week

The great Joe Posnanski on the iPad:

Now, we have become conditioned to technology, many of us, and so the list might not impress you. You can do most, maybe even all, these things on the iPhone or on your mobile device. Certainly on your computer. Most of the iPad reviews I read talk a lot about what the iPad does not do — play Flash, have a camera, run multiple apps at once and so on. All true.

But I’m not a technology writer. I’m just a guy who grew up in the 1970s. And I like to look at it another way — we’re living in the Jetsons. I can WATCH ANY BASEBALL GAME on this little folder-sized television that I carry around with me? And read books on it (and it’s a much better reading experience than the computer — night and day better). And listen to music on it? And watch movies? And send letters to people that reaches them instantly? And get letters back from the in return? And do my work on it? And shop on it? And play games on it? And so on and so on and so on and every single day it gets better because someone invents some new app that pushes its limits.

[snip]

I’m not saying you want an iPad or need one (or any of the upcoming tablets) — I don’t get commission. I’m just saying, what’s the big deal? It’s a computer and television and radio and newspaper and book and magazine and game console and Internet the size of a piece of paper and the width of a Mitch Albom book. It’s freaking amazing, that’s the big deal.

I want one.

Writerly Pacing

Part of a super-long interview promoting his new book, Joe Posnanski takes a moment to describe pacing:

There is something about pacing in writing that has always fascinated me. You wish you could be there with every reader and say, "OK, this part you're supposed to read really fast. And this part, no, slow down, take your time on this part. And that part, yeah, just skim over that part." I suppose the writers who can get the readers to do that—to speed up and slow down instinctively—are the special ones. I don't have that talent, obviously, but it's something I do think about.

Is it possible that standard-length books of, let's say, 200-400 pages just aren't capable of holding a reader's full attention all the way through? I think it is possible, and probably even likely. 200 pages is a big time commitment. It's a little weird, though, to think that each reader would be interested in the same topics. And it's fascinating that even the author realizes that some parts of a book just aren't as interesting. But, again, I might be enthralled by a part of the book that the author himself just wasn't in love with. Morte D'Author, indeed.