Last week in his Globe column, my friend Ivor Tossell wrote about the internet and self-publishing. Putting forth that the internet has begun to eliminate the stigma of vanity presses-- "after all, the Internet is a giant vanity press full of self-published content. The spirit of the Web is to put whatever you've got out there, and see if it sticks."
Ivor explores the exciting potential of online print-on-demand-- small runs of textbooks, bad love poetry collections just in time for Valentines, keeping obscure books from ever being "out of print". But, he writes, "At the same time, it means that books will lose their special status. The mere existence of a book with your name on the spine will no longer mean as much; nor will putting out one of your own make you look hopelessly self-absorbed."
But I am not sure that I agree with him. Perhaps I just get riled at suggestions of the book losing status, but this seems to me one of those cases in which a book isn't a book, after all. Poetry may be a different story, but I'm thinking in terms of fiction. Though of course I've not been round the world on this one, I hold fast to a belief that good books tend to get published-- a belief I can hold if only because I read so many of them. And that a published book is the product of significant investment, not only by a writer, but by editors (and more editors, hopefully), and book designers, and art designers, and by publishers at the top who were willing to take the chance on it.
There are exceptions of course, and instances in which print-on-demand is the best route for a writer, but my suspicion is that any book devoid of such investment would be lacking. The lack would show in the look of the book and the reading, and any wannabe author could probably find these instructions a cheaper way to the same results. Economics being the point, which is where Ivor's analogy between self-published books and blogs break down. While both are probably equally vain, awful and substandard, at least blogs can be accessed for free.