Wicked Cultured

I have an archnemesis. Its name is Kindle. With its dark case and smooth screen, the Kindle sits coldly on shelves in bookstores across the country, somehow managing to be sold alongside its victims. I have waited all of my life to face off against this six-fingered villain, and now I say, "Hello, my name is Charlotte Parish. You killed my books. Prepare to die."

But short of physically snapping every Kindle I come across (I have not yet ruled this option out), I have no idea how to go about defeating them. Here's the problem: I understand that Kindles are more portable, cheaper in the long run, small, and more environmentally friendly. I also concede that my problems with the electronic books are not unique. I resent that I cannot flip pages or feel the books heft or enjoy that old novel smell. Recently, though, the fight has gotten even more personal, since Kindle is effectively destroying my dream job.

Alongside the environmental benefits of the paperless book reader is the decline of a significant portion of the publishing industry. While I knew this fact in theory, the total ramifications of such a shift didn't hit me until I began searching for publishing houses in Boston who were looking for interns this summer. Searches frequently popped up tauntingly for companies in New York City, completely ignoring that I want to stay in this fair city. When I finally did corral the Internet into doing what I wanted, the results were less than satisfactory since there are barely a handful of publishing houses in Boston that are hiring for editorial and content-producing sections (although CSOM-ers take note,  financial internships abound as usual), are larger than a five-man operation, don't use words like "independent" (read: small potatoes), and have a janky website that makes me skeptical that it is a legitimate company.

I knew that the evil Dr. Kindle would eventually take over the world unless stopped. I'm floored, however, that the decline seems to have happened so quickly. While the big names like Random House and Penguin Books can maintain their momentum for a while, many companies are picking off their smaller branches in order to streamline and economize their business. That's not even considering how many are turning to the dark side and making significant investments in creating eBooks.

In the fall, I had a lot of hope that this was not the case. Attending the Boston Book Festival, I was surrounded by fellow bibliophiles, presentations about new and growing genres of fictions, and booths for local publishing houses. What I failed to realize in my rose-tinted bliss is that I was walking through the last refuge of the book industry in Boston. While I thought I was interacting with the rising faces of the publishing industry, the little guys who might someday rise to incredible heights, I was actually observing that rare brand of people who join a losing fight.

So what to be done? For my current summer plans, not a whole lot. With so few options, I'm better off applying to work for my town library or bookstore than a Boston publishing house if I want to be around the physical treasures. In my retreat, I can only lodge a futile plea with the deities who control Boston's industry. Our city (and state) has one of the lowest unemployment rates in the country and has an impressively consistent showing on lists of the "best company to work for" in the country. These two facts clearly should inspire businesspeople to invest in our city, even in risky markets. For publishing in particular, with the vast number of college students in and around the city, there is a built-in work force and consumer force.

I may have to wait a little longer for my counter-attack on Kindle, but never fear. The injustice will not go unfought!