books, orgasm, stories, smearing

From April 10th

Do you remember how orgasmic media used to be? It was all about a single momentous eruption; the Day Of Transmission, the Scoop and the Latest Edition. It was such a time-bound, deliniated thing. Events happened and then they stopped happening. Programmes were on and then they were off. If you didn't make your appointment to view that was it, you missed out. Sure you could plan to record things, but you still had to plan, you still had that programme marked in your head. And similarly, you could go back and read yesterday's paper, or last week's, but no-one has time to do that. And all that just doesn't seem true any more. As media becomes more digitised and socialised it also gets smeared across our timelines, no longer about a single opportunity to view but increasingly about a tide of content that sweeps in and out but never really goes away. If you missed Doctor Who last Saturday, you weren't really worried, you could catch up via DVR or the iPlayer, and you're unlikely to be deprived of a repeat for very long. And it's not just the viewing that gets stretched over time, social media means the watercooler moment is distributed across the week and around the world. The idea of the spoiler has been co-opted especially to allow people to discuss a programme without ruining the end for those that don't know it.

And the same forces come into play when we try to work out what to watch in the first place. The gritty US police procedural The Wire has a massive audience on DVD because of the word of mouth that spreads around online. Reading a review from a critic you trust is one thing, but week in week out seeing positive word about a programme from your friends; in their various digital/social network incarnations, creates a powerful recommendation force that it's hard to resist. Books too are starting to escape the leaden immutability of print. William Gibson (he of cyberspace fame) has spoken of writing his last book with 'google open', googling the things he mentions as he goes along, knowing that his readers will do the same thing. This surrounds the book with a cloud of living footnotes, changing over time and creating a different context for the printed word. (To see some really fascinating experiments with books and the web have a look at www.wetellstories.co.uk.)

When all the arguments about which medium will kill which are done I suspect we'll be left with this kind of fluid environment, where creative works slide across time and channel, and viewers and readers follow as the mood takes them. Media planning's not going to get any easier is it?