PUBLISHERS LIMITING LIBRARY E-BOOK CHECKOUTS

I heard on the radio a couple of weeks ago that one of the major publishing houses was trying to figure out a way to limit the number of times a library could loan an e-book before having to renew its purchase. My initial reaction was critical of the idea, but then I started thinking more about it, and now I believe the publishers have the right idea.

E-books are more popular than ever, and those of us who own e-readers are always looking for good free content. Naturally, we might look to our local public libraries to give us access to the hottest new releases, but electronic loans are a very different concept than physical book loans. Think about it.

When you borrow a book from the library, you have one copy of it in your possession for two weeks, usually. During that time, no one else can borrow the book. Maybe you return it early, probably you return it on time, and possibly you return it late. The amount of time you have the book determines how soon someone else can have it. Perhaps your library buys or leases several copies of the same book because there's a huge demand for it. Even so, the number of readers of each book is limited. People who really want to read it may lose patience and buy a copy, and sometimes friends will share a hot new book within their circle of readers. Publishers count on the fact that our impatience to get our hands on a certain book will bump their sales.

With an e-book, one could theoretically loan it to thousands of people at a time. There's no profit in that for the publishers, and let's face it, the bottom line is the need for the publisher (and of course the author) to sell as many copies of the book as possible to generate revenue and royalties. It makes sense that publishers would look for a way to limit the number of times an e-book could be shared before the rights would have to be re-purchased. The numbers being tossed around in the radio piece seemed unrealistic to me (26 uses per purchase, figuring on the number of times a hard copy would be loaned in a year). I agree with the idea of rights being tied to the number of uses rather than a time-frame; again, one could theoretically loan an e-book thousands of times in a very short period. However, repeated purchasing of loaning rights also brings up the question of the library's budget--the more money being spent on rights to ebooks, the less money there is for other library needs.

So what's the solution?

My suggestion would be to charge a nominal fee for e-books, maybe $1 per rental, and split the money between the publisher and the library. I know that would likely entail some changes in how libraries are run and funded, but we have to keep up with technological advances and adapt old ways of doing things to new possibilities.

There will still be plenty of us who will buy actual books that we can hold in our hands and read, and share with our fellow readers. I'm reminded of Capt. Picard on an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation. With some sort of e-books available to him, he still preferred to sit in his quarters and read his beautiful, gilt-embossed hardcover books. Likewise, I can't imagine gathering my grandchildren around me to read to them from my Nook, color or not. There is a time and place for each type of book, and we can have plenty of options with each. All we have to do is figure out what's fair for all the parties involved in e-reading. If everyone gives a little, everyone can gain a lot. There's plenty of room for compromise.

THE JANE MOFFAT PROJECT

My imagination is quite child-like, and it manifests itself in strange and unusual ways. From the time I was quite small, I would come up with games and routines that would stave off boredom, or that were inspired by books or movies. The fact that I can be somewhat OCD simply intensifies those tendencies. These games I play with myself are mostly private, weird little things that I've rarely if ever shared with anyone else.

When I was a kid and would play house with other girls, I would create detailed backstories in my head, usually centering on great poverty as evinced in books by Louisa May Alcott, Kate Douglas Wiggin, and Sara Crewe's ordeals in A Little Princess. My "children" and I would carefully gather wood for heat and cooking; we would be poor but honorable, doing whatever we must to survive hardship and deprivation. I'm still drawn to stories like that: a recent read was Prayers for Sale by Sandra Dallas.

The game that has had the most lasting effect on my life, however, is one I like to call The Jane Moffat Project. In one of the Moffat books by Eleanor Estes, Jane decides to read all the books in the library, so she starts with A and begins to read her way through. Even as a kid, this idea appealed to me, and every so often, I would take a stab at The Jane Moffat Project. I never got very far, because I would be seduced away from the books I "should" read by the books I "wanted" to read. Eventually I would have to admit that I had gone off the wagon, and for a while I would put the project out of my mind.

The most recent iteration of the JMP began this year when I decided I would attempt to read all the books in the library at the school where I work. I didn't get very far at all. Well, maybe I did, because I took a multi-pronged approach to the project. In addition to starting at the A section of the chapter books, I started at the first shelf of non-fiction, and would also read a few picture/story books with whatever classes I subbed or aided in. And of course, after so many years of reading, I had already read many of the books in the school's collection.

I'll never know whether I could have done it, because I've been informed that I'm being transferred to another school in the county. I am deeply saddened by this, because I have grown to love where I've been and have come to feel that I've been an asset to the school. I just don't know if I have the heart to go through the process yet again of getting to know my co-workers and creating a niche for myself. People have tried to console me by reminding me that I'm lucky I still have a job at all. Well, yeah, I know that, but it doesn't make it easier to reconcile myself to reality after I've come to know most of the students by name and made some friends. I don't know if I can put myself out there again.

On the other hand, there are two local libraries (one on-post, one off) nearby. Perhaps Jane Moffat will lead me to another tilt at this particular windmill. Reading has always gotten me through tough times. I will tuck my Nook, well-stocked as it is with nearly 700 books, into my purse and rely on it to ease the transition. I could do a mini-Moffatt simply by reading all the books I've downloaded. Alternatively, there's always graduate school.