In addition to attacking the traditional publishing model and starting fierce arguments over whether the rise in eBooks is (paradoxically) causing a decline in literacy, eReaders like the Amazon Kindle and the Barnes & Noble Nook are collecting data on how fast readers read an eBook, the parts they skip, and more according to NPR this week.
Leaving aside the question of whether this is another privacy invasion on the part of Big Data, the article focuses on the question of whether this data can help authors or hurt them.
Scott Turow takes the position that Big Data helps writers by letting them know where, if not why, they lose readers during a story. The novelist Jonathan Evison wonders what would have happened to Moby Dick if Melville had Big Data from readers and listened to it.
All of this reminded me of what I think of as the “continuum of the writer-reader collaboration”.
The act of reading is a collaboration between the writer and reader, an act which the writer begins and the reader finishes. The terms of this collaboration are initially set by the writer. The reader then accepts these terms, or not, but once she does – look out – because the experience and meanings of the book become hers.
Sometimes, the writer sets terms which are friendly to that great and aggregate abstraction known as “the reader”.
In fiction, these terms tend to include a plot featuring a conflict or conflicts, rising action, and a satisfying conclusion; central characters with whom we can identify or empathize; and writing that is clear and straightforward if not elegant, harmonious, or beautiful.
The “reality” of the book roughly conforms to the world reported in newspapers or portrayed in mass media or experienced by another great abstraction, the “average person”.
If the book’s reality doesn’t conform to this world, then it exists in a souped-up one, in which everyone is attractive, rich, witty, and powerful, and has more and better sex than generally experienced.
If the characters have problems in this world, they are exciting and important problems — like saving the world from a rogue nuke or loving a sparkly vampire — instead of boring ones like scraping up money to pay your bills or hemorrhoids.
Books with reader-unfriendly terms tend to be the opposite of all these things or, let us agree for the sake of brevity, Finnegans Wake.
Now there is no necessary causal relationship between reader-friendly terms, reader- unfriendly terms, entertainment, and art. In fact, all these elements, in all proportions, can be found in literature. Shakespeare’s invincible position at the pinnacle of literature in English is based on precisely the fact that he delivers enormous quantities of all four in roughly equal measures.
However, it also seems to me profoundly true that all real innovation in literature is founded on being reader-unfriendly, which is another way of saying “new and confusing”.
I’m not worried about Big Data stifling innovation. Big artists have big egos, and typically think everyone else in the world is an idiot who needs to catch up. They’ve been ignoring expert opinion for centuries. They can ignore Big Data just as easily.
If the next generation Kindle has a camera, however, I am going to stop reading naked.
Peter Galen Massey 
I rather like the ‘boring little problems’ in books. Ordinary people’s lives. And I’m afraid my Kindle is being sadly neglected in favour of curling up with a good solid book
I like those too. You probably have figured out I’m a “To the Lighthouse” fan, I mention it a lot. Tyler’s “Breathing Lessons” comes immediately to mind as well.
Now then, are you really really sure that your Kindle doesn’t already have a secret in built camera?
Actually, since I have the Kindle app for iPad, my reader already does. I’ll have to keep my thumb over the lens.
Might be wise!
Haha! I thought I was the only one who reads naked! Gosh I love the internet… anyhoo…
“The reader then accepts these terms, or not, but once she does – look out – because the experience and meanings of the book become hers.” This, Peter, is spot on and truly, madly reader response theory–something I import to all my students when I get a chance.
Thanks for making us aware of Big Data mining. I’m not really one who takes good/bad sides on these things; for me, it simply is. There’s nothing I can do about it, nor does my little opinion matter. Although I find the information quite valuable. BUT, I have a question for you: as an author of ebooks, how does this knowledge concerning data collection hit you? Do you feel it has merit or value? Would you use it? 🙂
I would certainly look at Big Data the same way I listen to individual reader responses now. This is partially because I believe in meeting the reader about halfway: in my case, that means making the story easy to read and follow (although I tend to require a fair amount of emotional intelligence from readers) but not offering any opinion on what the story means. I’d also look at the data because — so far, and likely forever — I can’t claim to be an innovator, much less a visionary, so I’m not likely to do myself much harm. I think anyone who has spent any time discussing literature, the Bible, the Constitution (etc.) should regard reader response as fact not theory; but then again, the world is full of folks who believe their perspectives are immutable truths. And have the weaponry to make their arguments persuasive.
I will say the big purpose of Big Data is to sell us stuff better, and that gets a little dicey in my opinion, even though my day job is selling stuff better. For example. Amazon: “I see you read just the sex scenes in 50 Shades. So we’ll think you’ll love this book. It’s just sex scenes!” Consumer: “I never! No thank you.” Wife of consumer: “What were YOU doing reading 50 Shades?”