In his post "Newspapers and Thinking the Unthinkable," Clay Shirky argues that newspapers are in the midst of a technological revolution -- one that rivals that of the invention of the printing press; and that it's unreasonable to expect anyone to be able to map out the path forward for newspapers right now. The phoenix can't rise from the ashes while the fires are still burning.
 
Shirky stresses that we don't know where the newspaper industry is headed other than at lightning speed away from the past. What we do know is that journalists need to carry forward top-notch investigative skills and a willingness to engage with readers as never before.


While writers in all media have always carried on a conversation with their readers (if only in their heads), that dialogue between reader and writer has become more intense since the explosion in online media.

The reader-writer dialogue, at its best, can result in a shared commitment to getting the story right and to identifying the stories that need to be told. This results in increased media access to anyone with an Internet connection: a massive shift that has been made possible by the birth of online media. (See William Dutton, Through The Network of Networks: The Fifth Estate for an inspiring discussion about the ways this democratization of the media is allowing ordinary citizens to hold politicians and others in power accountable.)

So what about the evolution of book publishing? E-Books should also be giving birth to such exciting possibilities, but, for the most part, they are stuck in the world of Web 1.0: a place where text talks at rather than to the reader.

When books become truly interactive (assuming publishers and authors are willing to take the leap: to commit to the long-term relationship that interactivity demands), books will come to life in a way that only sci-fi authors could have imagined until now.

Debates will rage on and off the page about the most pressing issues of our time; literature will demand to be discussed; statistics will lose their ability to lie; and convenient mistruths passed off as history will cry out to be rewritten.

Passionate info-enthusiasts will log on to the library electric, ready to be informed and entertained; awestruck and enraged; but above all engaged. And as the ideas flow between author and reader, reader and author, each info-wave will leave its own unique mark on the page -- at least until the next reader comes along.

Today I was working on a short magazine piece when it happened: fully formed sentences poured from my head onto the page via my fingertips.

I didn't stop to question it. I just kept typing, knowing that moments like this are a gift; and that, if you want to show your appreciation for the gift, you should type first, critique later. (Or, to use a different type of analogy, great sex shouldn't be put dissected and analyzed at the peak of passion. Neither should great writing.)

It's all about going with the flow, in writing as in life: relinquishing some of that creativity-blocking control in favor of enjoying a totally unscripted ride -- just seeing where the words will take you.

I am so happy and excited because I've just stumbled across the motherlode of content about rethinking journalism, engaging with audiences in new ways, and changing the world through words. I don't feel like doing anything that is actually on my to do list. I just want to dive in and read everything. This is incredible. Check out this newsmagazine and everything that's tucked in behind it. It's a world and career-changing idea smorgasbord.

Ava Berkofsky has done some amazing work documenting the lives of women in the US prison system. She points out in Strange Silence: Portraits from Women's Prisons: Louisiana, Texas, Kentucky, and New Mexico that the number of women being incarcerated in the US has been increasing steadily for the past ten years.

She writes.

"The past 10 years have given us unprecedented levels of incarceration among all groups of people, but especially among women. The population of women's prisons nationally has doubled since 1997 alone. Most every woman I talked to knew this."

While you're visiting Berkofsky's site, be sure to check out Inconsolable: Brooklyn Funeral Homes -- another fabulous social essay written in photographs.

This is one of the most inspiring columns I've read in a long time -- one that makes me feel proud to be part of The Toronto Star's online family and that gives me renewed faith in the role that can be played by newspapers in this country.

Publisher John Cruikshank writes:

"The sorry consequences of regulatory laxness that permitted a few to become fantastically rich will be borne by all of us over the next few years and most painfully during the next 12 months. While Canadians today remain typically upbeat about their ability to compete and thrive even in the most difficult circumstances, these will be trying times.

This city and this country will need its media to be at its best in 2009, praising what is great, critiquing what should be changed, finding fun and human value in everyday events to offset the strain of hard days.

The Star has always had a unique ability to rise to these kinds of challenges. Its journalistic strength has been built on the Atkinson principles - a commitment to look out for the little guy, to pursue social justice for all and to articulate the passion we all feel for our city and our country.

* * *

The Star is the biggest newspaper in the country because it has a tradition of service to the largest constituency of Canadians. It has never seen itself as a vehicle for any particular class or clan or sect.

It speaks to the majority about the needs of minorities. It has always stood for an engaged, empowered citizenry in a strong, united Canada.

The changes at the Star in the days and months ahead will follow the pattern set out here. We will build on the foundations that have made the newspaper great and necessary.

We will listen to our readers and our employees, to our critics and our fans and we will act to make the Star even greater - great for the city, great for the country."

Talk about an inspiring way to start the year.

Related:

History of The Toronto Star

There will always be a place for paper-and-ink publishing. Perhaps the question asked at pub board meetings from this day forward will be this: is it paper-worthy? I don't mean is it good enough for paper, but rather is it best suited to paper? -- or will that book be well on its way to becoming obsolete by the time it hits the bookstore shelves? In such a case, a web-based version of the book (or some other easily updated e-version) would appear to be the better solution.

It's clear to even the most casual of book, magazine, and newspaper world observers that the publishing revolution is already well underway -- a revolution that is as significant as the invention of the printing press; and one that will is set to redefine the traditional relationships between -- and roles of -- author and publisher.

The book and magazine publishing contracts that have been failing authors in many ways may be on their way to becoming irrelevant if writers start to broker their own deals with the new content buyers, both online and off.

As that process continues to evolve, it will be key to come up with a new model of compensation that will allows writers to be compensated for all uses of their work.

After all, if you ain't got content, you ain't got nothin' baby, including revenue.

It's a very exciting time to be a writer -- but also a bit of a roller-coaster ride. Many of the old rules don't mean a thing -- and the new rules of publishing are still very new -- and in flux.

This much I can say: making connections, trusting your gut instinct about how the publishing field is evolving, and becoming a specialist in a couple of areas where the demand for insider knowledge is strong are your best career strategies. Or at least they are right now.

In a world of economic upheaval, writers are a lucky bunch. We're creative, resourceful, at masters of reinvention. If the new economics of publishing involve re-imagining the book as something more virtual than physical -- requiring fewer trees and less transport, for example -- writers are up to making that shift.

Sure, there's something about the smell of ink on paper that has worked itself into our collective DNA, but we can savor an old-school book, just as we would a fine wine: on our own time and on our own dime.