Word Perfect has at least one foot in the grave, if not both

It isn’t dead, yet. Not really. But I think it may have suffered the fate worse than death.

It’s become Word.

First, I must confess a dirty little secret. I think the epitome, the quintessence; of word-processing computer software was Word Perfect. To be more specific: Word Perfect 5.2 for DOS.
I work on a Windows XP platform at present, but long after I went to Windows (Windows ME, I think it was then) I continued to write with WP 5.2. Like many writers, I’m keyboard oriented. The only advantage of MS Word, as far as I could see, was its amenability to the mouse. And the mouse held little attraction for me.

Eventually, though, I found myself working in Word. I felt that I had to make the switch. All my clients, or virtually all, were working in MS Word. I wanted to be able to communicate with them, and send work to them, without going through the hassle of conversion.

But I wasn’t happy about it. Word is clunky and, worse, Word is capricious. It makes the decisions it thinks you ought to make rather than the decisions you want to make, and it stands by its choices despite your objections. Try changing the default document format, for example; it’s an exercise in frustration.

I know, I know. There are ways to change all these quirks. But there are no simple or easy ways. No matter how many times I pound it into its head, Word continues to insist on underlining every word. Every time I start a new document, it requires me to disable that particular eccentricity.

Who came up with the idea: “I know! Let’s set up the “Normal” template so that it underlines every word this sucker writes! Wouldn’t that be neat?”

You can go to the “Help” function all you want, but you may never discover how to do what you want to do. I can’t even figure out how to come up with the right question that will inspire the “Office Assistant” to give me the answer I need. It’s good at giving me answers to questions I didn’t ask, but lousy at answering the ones I did ask.

And don’t get me started on the spelling dictionary and grammar functions.

So – back to Word Perfect.

The other day I was frustrated trying to cajole Word into doing something I desperately needed for it to do – I forget what it was, now – and Word continued doing things in its own idiomatic fashion. So I thought: I’ve still got Word Perfect on this computer. I’ll just go to that and then convert the project back to Word when I’m finished. By this time, I had the Windows version, version 10, I think.

So I called it up. But it wasn’t Word Perfect any more. Oh, it said “Word Perfect,” but the old familiar features were no longer there. The interface was like

Word, except that it had a few additional quirks that didn’t track Word.

Worst of all, the most useful feature of the old Word Perfect – the “reveal codes” function – had become virtually invisible. In the DOS version it could be called up with a simple touch of a function key. In this new version, it was hiding . . . somewhere . . . that required a road map to find. And in this new no-printed-documentation era, there’s no easy way to find it. Certainly not through the “help” function, which was, of course, unhelpful.

Well, that’s my rant. I’ll shut up now.

Call me a Luddite, if you will, but I long for the old days.

The old days of, say, ten years ago.

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Clyde T. Linsley has been a full-time freelance writer since 1986. He served two terms as president of WIW during the nineties. He is the author of four published mystery novels.

E-publishing carries pros and cons for authors

In the February 8 issue of “The Weekly Standard,” author James Gardner pointed out the up side of electronic publishing: access to the sum total of written knowledge available instantly no matter where you are (as long as you have an internet connection).

In addition to all the books he pointed out that are available for free (if published prior to 1923 when modern copyright law was enacted), a wide variety of new publications are available as e-books or pdf versions for a much lower price than hardcover or softcover editions.

To a writer, this may seem like bad news. How can we make a living in an already competitive publishing market when prices for e-books are dropping? Where will we find work? Will our job disappear?

To these concerns, I say a world of opportunities have opened for writers, editors, and even publishers. We can make a living with lower prices because the volume of sales for e-books on the internet is potentially exponential. Rather than a small market of those who browse bookstores or Amazon, you have the opportunity to reach the entire internet public – for decades.

We will find work because there will always be a market for current fiction and non-fiction. Those who read fiction want new stories and new characters – especially if it’s an interesting series. Non-fiction continues to be a growing market, and everyone is interested in learning something new about an area of special interest to them, such as history, biography, or self-help.

For publishers, the world of e-books solves a problem that has been around since Gutenberg printed the first Bible: the budget has only so much room for launching new books every year. However, in a world of online publishing, the budget can be stretched because of savings on paper, ink, and shipping (just to name a few expenses).

Most importantly, to me, is that research is vital for writers, especially in the area of non-fiction. Imagine the amount of research you can conduct when the world’s great libraries and books are open to you at the touch of a button. It is like finding a way to walk the universe.

Links to like:

• Project Gutenberg
• Online Libraries
• Bibliothica Alexandrina (the reincarnated Library of Alexandria)
• iPhone App: Free Books (small fee for app but books are free to download to phone or computer)

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Cecilia Sepp is an association management consultant and writer based in Silver Spring, MD. She is currently in her third year on the AIW Board of Directors as Immediate Past President and chair of the Member Engagement Committee. She blogs at Association Puzzle.

If you write books, or ever considered writing a book, you have probably followed the stories about the dispute between Macmillan Publishers and Amazon.com. To quote President Kennedy, “I want to say this about that.”

The dispute primarily concerns the price that Amazon wanted to apply to ebooks, which exist in cyberspace and are downloaded by purchasers for reading on one of the various electronic devices now on the market. Macmillan felt Amazon was setting the prices too low, which would result in lost revenues for everyone concerned – authors, agents, editors and, of course, publishers.

Everyone, that is, except Amazon.

This may strike you, as it did me, as resembling a scene out of “Jurassic Park:” a struggle between Tyrannosauruses (Tyranosauri?), while all the lesser creatures scurry for cover. But there are serious ramifications here for all us “content providers,” a term I once heard a technogeek apply to writers.

I want to give you my take on the matter:

My wife and I are planning a trip to Boston in a couple of weeks, to visit my daughter and son-in-law. If we don’t want to drive the distance (and my wife is adamant on that subject) we have two options: Jet Blue to Logan International Airport or Southwest to Manchester Boston Regional Airport in New Hampshire.

My daughter and son-in-law live in the far western suburbs. Our decision required us to weigh the price of airline tickets, the relative proximity of Dulles International Airport (Jet Blue) or BWI Thurgood (Southwest), and the cost of ground transportation from whichever airport we chose to our daughter’s home in the western burbs.

I won’t go into the decision we finally made because the important point here is the process we went through. It took some time, as you might imagine.

To most people, books – like travel – are a discretionary purchase. When people consider buying something that they don’t have to buy, they inevitably go through a process rather similar to the process we went through in planning our Boston trip. And with discretionary purchases, price is most definitely a factor.

Price isn’t always the deciding factor, but often it is. We ignore this at our peril.

I’m in favor of everyone getting a decent-size slice of the pie – especially authors – but there’s more than one way to reach that end.

Which brings me back to Southwest and Jet Blue, both of which make their fortunes by underpricing the big guys in the industry, in order to develop new travel markets that may not have existed before. It seems to work: when other airlines were hemorrhaging money every year, Southwest perked along with a profit. They paid their employees, operated on time, and turned some previously moribund airports – think of BWI – into behemoths – and Jet Blue into an airline.

Maybe it isn’t possible, but as an author I’d like a slice of that. Could it be that the real problem with the book business is that we’re pricing ourselves out of the market?

I submit it for your consideration.

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Clyde T. Linsley has been a full-time freelance writer since 1986. He served two terms as president of WIW during the nineties. He is the author of four published mystery novels.

For the past few years I’ve been writing fiction almost exclusively, but most of my 40-some-odd years as a professional writer were spent writing nonfiction. And mostly, it was journalistic writing.

I wrote for newspapers, radio, television, I edited magazines, and I wrote for various web sites. Nearly all of this writing was journalistic in nature. I still follow developments in the field, with an eye toward maybe returning to it at some point.

Lately, I’ve been wondering: Will there be anything to return to? (To which to return?)

Last year my alma mater, the Missouri School of Journalism, celebrated its centennial. Since it was the first school of journalism in the world, the celebration was a Big Deal. I attended.

During the nearly week-long festivities, the school held a seminar on future technology. A number of entrepreneurs described, and demonstrated, a number of new approaches to delivering information to consumers in a digital age. Some, I thought, were half-baked. Some held genuine promise. But they all lacked what seemed to me an essential ingredient: Money.

Oh, there was money, or at least the promise of money. Entrepreneurs don’t get involved in a project that doesn’t show potential profits somewhere down the line. But the economic potential of all these projects was based on the widespread belief that their raw materials – their content – were free.

You can see how they reach that conclusion. On the internet, content looks free. I can read The Washington Post online without spending a dime. Same for The New York Times and for dozens – probably hundreds – of other newspapers. Television stations and broadcast networks have all established web sites, which carry news stories. Magazines routinely place much of their content online.  All the web portals have links to news stories. All of it free.

Except, of course, it isn’t.

The news has to come from somewhere. Right now, it comes mostly from newspapers and news services – such as the Associated Press – created to serve newspapers. If newspapers die out, as they seem to be, where will that content come from?

This could be a tremendous opportunity for freelancers, or it could be a catastrophe. Right now, I’m inclined to bet on the latter.

These techno-geek guys have grown accustomed to the idea that content is, if not free, at least a negligible expense, like the cost of acquiring a domain or a new piece of software. If we’re lucky, they’re in for a rude awakening. If they’re not, well . . .

Newspapers understand that they have to spend money to produce their product, but the internet has made most of those production costs irrelevant.

And the cost of producing content could become irrelevant, too. When I started in journalism, many smaller newspapers (and even a few big ones) relied heavily on unpaid “correspondents,” who rarely left home. They would write weekly or monthly columns that reported on which of their neighbors took a cruise to Bermuda, when the first robins of spring were spotted in the trees, or when the first crocuses appeared. The more adventurous souls among them might report that two members of the town council had resorted to fisticuffs in a dispute over a zoning matter, or publish the municipal leaf-collection schedule.

Some of this stuff was interesting. Most of it was crap. The publishers didn’t care. It was content, and it was free. I call this indifference to quality the “warm body” disease, and it is more widespread than H1N1. And it spreads faster.

Let’s face it: Nearly everybody thinks he can write. After all, it’s the first thing they teach us in school. And, of course, everybody could  write, if they were prepared to spend the time and effort required to do so. Not many are willing to do that, especially if they can get by with less.

Bad money, they say, drives out good. I’m afraid we’re about to find out if no money will even drive out bad.

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Clyde T. Linsley has been a full-time freelance writer since 1986. He served two terms as president of WIW during the nineties. He is the author of four published mystery novels.