Wooden Books, Parody and Interdependent Containers

These Pages Fall Like Ash has as one of its primary aims a desire to figure out a relationship between physical and digital content. Some thoughts abo

Like everyone else (it seems) we've been pretty quiet on the blog this month. And in our case too, that's a combination of deep thought, a bit of panic and a large dose of content creation.

These Pages Fall Like Ash has as one of its primary aims a desire to figure out a relationship between physical and digital content. In that by leaping at everything being digital, where we arrive is a parody of the book (I'm trying to coin a new phrase for Jo and Clare to tease me about - we've done skeuomorphism to death and so I'm working on appropriating satire), a content that ignores the container and pretends that everything is the same, but better, shinier and somehow more appealing to the reader (for a couple of examples of this thinking, see the otherwise very smart Porter Anderson here and * quotes from Jeff Gomez here).

(*updated - I read the Jeff Gomez piece while standing on a crowded train on Friday night. Jeff isn't being disappointing, and having read the other two pieces in Digital Book World's 'Change Agents' series too, my measured conclusion is that the interviewer is an idiot.)

How we see that is a matter of evolutionary thinking. We didn't start out with the answer we've reached, but rather got to it by spending a lot of time working through how our physical and digital content interrelates and becomes interdependent. Fugues featured rather heavily too. It'll operate something like this - the physical wooden notebook is a lexicon for another place. It describes and clarifies and contexualises the world the digital content is written from. It won't make complete sense without the experience, and the experience will need the notebook to 'decode' the digital material.

For now though, here's a notebook prototype, and I'm going to get back to writing. 

Top