The Middle Book

Readers expect a little more these days. I don’t think I’m being unreasonable when I say Web 2.0 leads us to expect a little more. Like I ordered a book from Amazon the other day. It arrived. But I couldn’t find exactly what I was looking for in it. I skimmed through it. It was fine. But not exact. Not precise. I couldn’t find the name of the person I was thinking of (it was a book about bullying, I wanted to see the name of my bully there). In the old days you could turn a book upside down and all manner of things would fall out: pressed flowers, memorial cards, receipts. Nowadays you don’t get that and you don’t get Google either. It’s a lose lose situation. Oh I suppose you could write the names in. But that seems so retrograde. A bit of interactivity doesn’t seem too much to ask and I don't mean pencils. I want to hold the book upside down and shake tiny friends out of it. I want to reach into it for understanding and a hug. I want color—shiny icons up and down the margins and in banners across the top and bottom of the page. I want Facebook. Actually pencils aren't such a bad idea—I want a pen of light to write illuminated marginalia and have the authors write right back. I want paragraphs to shimmy like jelly as they dissolve and reform. I want something to do while reading—or at least more reading while reading please.