On My Christmas List...

Dear Santa,

I want one of these, please:

Meet Paige M. Gutenborg, aka Harvard Book Store's Espresso Book Machine. It's a "book making robot" that can create "a library-quality, perfect bound, acid-free 300-page paperback book in roughly four minutes" -- that is supposedly "indistinguishable from paperbacks produced by major publishing houses."

Harvard Book Store offers a catalog of 3.6 million books to print from so far, including Google Books copies and public domain works. Plus, you can also upload your own files to create a 'polished' version of your personal novel, family memoirs, etc.

So far, the selection is necessarily limited by copyright (you may have heard some fuss about Google Books, for instance), and the market varies widely; prices for a digital 'copy' of Villette by Charlotte Bronte range from $9 to $22. I'm not sure what 'added value' the $22 version has (better fonts? nicer formatting?).

So how about we make a deal with publishers, agree on a pricing model and stick these machines in libraries, letting patrons have direct access to digital works with the option of 'creating' their own hard copies to keep? Publishers win, because they can cut back huge production costs and don't have to take on the costly risk of overproducing (ever since the Great Depression, publishers are obligated to take back all copies that a bookstore cannot sell) -- plus, they'll get access to all sorts of 'niche' markets by providing access to works that weren't previously profitable to print.

Authors win, getting greater distribution and more direct profit, especially in the case of out-of-print works -- even if only a relative few 'buy' those books, it's still bringing in money where previously there was none.

Libraries win, increasing their circulation and relevance and solidifying their place in the information exchange, while fulfilling their mission of providing greater access to resources for their patrons.

In the meantime, I can foolishly dream of seeing Paige in my stocking this year. Oh, if only BookSanta were real...