About books

Written knowledge is everywhere. Until recently, I didn't pay much attention to the implications of the format in which it was written, as I assumed that it was just selected based on convenience and length. If it's short, you can post a few tweets. If it gets longer, you may write a blog post. Maybe even a word document, so that if it becomes even longer you can expand it with no issues.

But if I think about it more deeply, there are some fundamental differences and expectations for each format. Tweets are supposed to be more spontaneous, not given much thought. Blog posts are more structured, often re-read one or two times before being published. And a document may even be revised over time, to reflect how your opinion has changed or to correct for some errors in the information there presented.

And then there's the book. From its physical format, to how it's organized, how cleanly it is presented, how it's given a name and how much it is fetishized in our society, it seems like something in a whole different category. We're told not to cite websites, but that we can cite books, as if the information in any published book were to be good enough to be trusted. We're told that we should read real novels, as if sandwiching 500-page long machinations between two hard covers elevated the plot from a mere fan-fiction to something worth studying. We often see how writing a book is included in many bucket lists of things to do before dying, as if writing anything else wasn't good enough.

I have started to read more real books recently, so I have become more serious about what is my role, what do I have to do for my own mere document to become a fully fledged book. The pressure is real, there seems to be a quality standard so high that it looks unreachable.

However, the truth is that there is no shortage of bad books, mediocre stories and 5 cm thick pamphlets; and neither it being published, self printed or just shared online is any certificate of the quality of its content. The correctness of its grammar, how beautifully it's formatted, how its written to fit its target audience or having a target audience to begin with; none of those things matter when judging its value. Something new to be told and an author who is passionate about breaking it down are prerequisites, but they also won't ensure its quality. 

I feel like it's important to come to terms with this imperfection. Despite the illusion that this mysterious value is in the hands of the author, it's outside of our reach. And for things that we can't control, it's better not to worry about them. I feel like me trying to perfect it has been a valuable learning experience on itself, and that whatever the result it may be, it shouldn't blind me from how far we've come.

For anyone who may be interested in reading a book not about 20-ish cm rotating batons, I strongly recommend ``The Shallows: What the Internet Is Doing to Our Brains'' by Nicholas Carr. It explains many of the consequences of our internet usage in a way that isn't usually said. It brings the reader on a journey along the history of communication media in such a beautiful way that it may lead you to think that, in the end, despite its inevitable imperfections, books really are something that deserve our admiration.