Well, not quite.

Here we are in 2002, and dead trees still rule. Both Random House and AOL/Time Warner have scrapped their e-publishing divisions; Simon & Schuster is still plugging away and claims their e-book business is growing, albeit slowly, but refuses to release any hard financial data. Stephen King discontinued his second e-publishing experiment, The Plant after disappointing results; the success of Riding the Bullet has never been matched, let alone eclipsed, by any other e-book title. And just recently, best selling author Tad Williams pulled the plug on his self-published, serialized e-book Shadowmarch, citing financial pressures and the need to concentrate on work for traditional (read: paying) print publication. Far from taking over the industry, e-publishing remains a niche market where even being a Big Name Author can't assure success.

So, what went wrong? Why is something that seems like such a great idea struggling to gain acceptance? Maybe some answers can be found by examining another technology that got off to a slow start: DVDs.

The DVD (originally an acronym for Digital Video Disc, but now evolved into Digital Versatile Disc) format was developed in the mid 1990's as a successor to the videodisk (trademarked as LaserDisc by Pioneer) for delivering high quality video content. In particular, the motion picture industry was seeking a format that would be more durable than videotape, allow enough storage to present a full-length motion picture on a single disc without having to pause and turn the disc over (as with videodisks), and could support such features as multiple language tracks and parental lock-outs.

By 1996, Phillips (in partnership with Sony) and Toshiba had developed competing proprietary formats, and both sides were waging a bitter campaign to control the fate of the new medium. This feud could easily have doomed the new technology had the content providers, in the form of the MPAA, not stepped in and taken an active role. Having learned from the VCR/Betamax wars that competing formats were bad for business, the MPAA urged the manufacturers to agree to industry standards. By 1997, the standards had been hammered out, and the first DVD players were hitting the shelves.

Now, DVD had some obvious advantages over videocassette. The image quality was better, it never needed rewinding or fast-forwarding, it didn't stretch or break, and viewers hear the soundtrack in the language of their choice without having to buy or rent a special foreign-language edition. But it had some drawbacks, too. DVD players were expensive, and not available everywhere, whereas VCRs were cheap and ubiquitous. Title selection overall was limited, and rental outlets often didn't stock any DVD titles at all. To most consumers, DVD seemed nothing more than a glorified video. Many of the inherent benefits of the technology, especially durability and multiple language support, were of more interest to the content providers than the consumers. For buyers, a slightly better image and not having to rewind did not outweigh the increased cost, lack of selection, and general unfamiliarity with this new medium. With no compelling reason to switch, most consumers stayed away and for a while, it seemed DVD would remain a curiosity, the domain of technophiles and gadget freaks.

But then, someone got a bright idea. DVD has another advantage over videocassette: it is a dense storage medium, with a single sided, single layered disc able to hold over 4 gigabytes of data. Why not exploit that advantage, and use that extra space for features not available in videocassette? At first, these additional features were minimal, like theatrical trailers and a few outtakes. But consumers liked the extras, and soon, DVDs were including behind-the-scenes featurettes, letterbox versions, director's cuts, cast biographies, and more. None of this content was available anywhere else, and people wanted it. Consumers now had their compelling reason to switch, and sales of DVD players soared.

Today, a DVD release is judged more on its "extras" than on the actual movie it contains. Quality and quantity of features, visual appeal and navigability of the menus, and even the quality and appeal of the packaging are all mentioned in DVD reviews, and it is not uncommon for the DVD release of a successful film to include 2 or more discs—one for the movie, and one for all the extra content. The "Collector's Edition" release of Fellowship of the Ring, due in November, will include 4 DVDs and a re-edited version of the movie that restores 30 minutes of footage not included in the theatrical release. The set will also include scale replicas of the Pillars of Argonath, and have packaging designed by renowned Tolkien artist Alan Lee. None of the features in the Collector's Edition will have been available previously, not even on the 2-disc "Standard Edition" issued in July. Now, that is a compelling reason to buy, even at nearly $80. Indeed, many fans will purchase the "Collector's Edition" in addition to the 2-disc set, simply because they each contain different content.

DVDs were originally conceived, marketed, and perceived as simply a "better" videocassette. As such, they failed, because consumers were happy with what they had. It was not until content providers stopped focusing on the aspects of the technology that benefited them, and instead took advantage of the DVD's greater capacity to provide premium content that sales took off. Today, some DVD releases even have interactive games that can be accessed through a computer equipped with a DVD-ROM drive. Try playing a videocassette on your iMac! Because of the public's appetite for these features, DVD players now outsell VCRs by good margin and as sales have increased, prices have dropped. DVD rentals are now as common and inexpensive as videocassette rentals, and major rental chains like Blockbuster are experimenting with DVD-only outlets.

E-publishing today is in a situation much like DVD was in the late 1990's. Competing, proprietary platforms are engaged in a power struggle to dominate, when they should be cooperating and defining industry standards to grow the market. Content providers, focused mainly on factors that benefit them (such as lowered production and distribution costs, and security schemes that all but eliminate the ability to share books among multiple readers) see and market e-books as nothing more than a "better" paperback. And consumers, faced with expensive hardware, limited title selection and availability, little price incentive (many e-books actually cost more than a standard paperback!), and an unfamiliar technology, see no compelling reason to embrace the new medium.

Printed books are inexpensive, legible, and portable. E-book readers are pricey and clumsy, PDAs have uncomfortably small screens, and desktop PCs can't go to the beach with you. Printed books can readily be borrowed from friends and libraries. E-books, because of their complex and restrictive security, can be read only on the device they were downloaded to, meaning a library would have to loan out not just a book, but also the expensive and breakable hardware to read it on. Want to borrow a friend's e-book? Either borrow their reader—meaning they can't read any of their other e-books until you've finished—or go over to their house and sit in front of their PC. And if that PC or e-book reader breaks, or you want to upgrade to a new machine, that's too bad! You lose all the e-books you've bought, because you cannot read them on any other machine—even though you legally purchased them. This is analogous to saying that if you move to a new home, you can't take your books with you, because your "license" to read them only covers your old residence! In their fear of a Napster-like phenomenon, e-book publishers overreacted and demanded such stringent measures that even paying customers are treated like criminals, throttling their own growth in the process.

But even if the repressive security measures—which many now question as a violation of Fair Use doctrine—were eliminated, e-books are unlikely to succeed as nothing more than a substitute for printed books. At least, in the fiction market: textbooks and technical references are an entirely different market, and one in which e-books and books online are doing well. In non-fiction, e-books have some very significant benefits, such as frequent updates to stay current with changing research and developments. Physical storage is a consideration too, when dealing with massive reference volumes such as law books. Keeping such works electronically saves a lot of space in the office.

But people who are reading for enjoyment and entertainment aren't going to give up the pleasure of a crisp new book and curl up with a backlit screen unless e-books can give them something printed volumes don't. To paraphrase the always-colorful James Carville, "It's the content, stupid."

An electronic document has inherent advantages that no printed volume can ever hope to emulate and that could greatly enhance the reader's enjoyment, especially readers of science fiction and fantasy. Imagine an interactive map that charts Our Hero's progress through the story, available at the click of a mouse or a touch on the screen as you read. Imagine being able to check the meaning of a term through a hyperlinked glossary, without having to flip through pages or lose your place. Imagine unfamiliar names being pronounced for you by the author. Imagine a character consulting a star chart—and being able to see that chart by clicking an icon. Imagine a character playing a lute—and actually hearing the music.

All of these things are commonplace on websites, which are at their core nothing more than collections of electronic documents. But e-publishers have treated their products not like webpages or hypertext documents, but as mere copies of printed pages, with pixels substituting for picas and plasma standing in for paper. The result is a bastard offspring with none of the charms or advantages of either parent. A standard e-book offering has neither the portability of a print book, nor the interactiveness of a hypertext document; it has neither the tactile appeal of crisp paper and new bindings, nor the visual excitement of color and graphics.

Consumers are happy with their books, and perceive no real benefit to electronic formats. They have resisted both downloadable purchase models and online subscription models, with few exceptions. And why not? E-books are, in the most part, unappealing visually, inconvenient to purchase and view, unfairly restrictive of valid uses, and have nothing that isn't in the standard off-the-shelf printed edition.

Like DVDs, e-books are going to have to offer "extras" to give consumers that compelling reason to change their habits. A few experiments in this vein have already yielded good results. The e-book version of Robert Jordan's Glimmers, the prologue to the forthcoming Wheel of Time Book 10, Crossroads of Twilight, has been selling briskly. It includes a digitized version of a handwritten note from Jordan, links to character glossaries and chapter summaries maintained by fan sites, and an exclusive question and answer session with the author answering queries posed by fans. Simon & Schuster, the publisher, actively sought out and involved fan sites in developing and pricing the offering. It's affordable, at only $3.00, and has content that will not be available anywhere else. And the fans seem to approve.

Even the e-book that started all the fuss, Stephen King's Riding the Bullet, only did so well because it was not available in any other format. Fans of King had no alternative, if they wanted to read his latest story, and they really wanted to read it. Had the book been offered in print at the same time, I sincerely doubt those phenomenal sales numbers would have ever materialized.

Shifting the focus to premium content also means rethinking delivery methods. The current process is centered on delivering a single, heavily encrypted file, almost exclusively via download. There are several problems and limitations inherent in this method. The current flat file technology used for e-books simply cannot support linking, complex graphics, audio, flash animation, or any of the other features we usually associate with web pages and other electronic content. Also, because the product must be downloaded, generally over slow, dial-up connections, file size is a major consideration. Very few people would be willing pay $5.00 then sit through a four hour download for a novel they can pick up at the corner Waldenbooks for $6.95.

While the current security measures on e-books are cumbersome and unfairly restrictive, both publishers and authors have a legitimate interest in protecting their investments and intellectual property. Any delivery method will have to address those concerns, while at the same time allowing paying customers the freedom to enjoy and dispose of their property as they see fit. So far, the e-publishing industry has had little success in balancing the needs of these two seemingly incompatible interests. Again, the movie industry's experience in DVD may provide some insight.

With DVDs, the media is secured, not the content. That is, the process of encoding the content onto the media renders the file or files contained on it unusable except by a DVD player built to industry standards. The content cannot be retrieved from the disc itself and placed elsewhere, either on other media or in a flat file format that is readily shared and downloaded. A DVD disc can be used in any player and can be loaned to another person if the owner wishes. The security features provide no inconvenience to anyone, except those who wish to steal the content, of course. But it does not interfere with any legitimate use of the product, once it has been legally purchased.

E-book security is as cumbersome and repressive as it is because the publishers recognize that they are currently delivering a very vulnerable product: a single file, not contained on any physical media, that could be easily copied and distributed illegally. Tying the download to the BIOS of a physical computer is the only way to secure such an inherently insecure product.

If, on the other hand, e-books were delivered on physical media instead of by download only, the consumer-friendly, pirate-unfriendly physical security of DVDs could be used. Delivering on physical media also allows the delivery of multiple and/or larger files, allowing for richer content. Several relatively inexpensive media options exist that would be ideally suited for e-book delivery, namely compact flash, memory stick, and SmartMedia. Industry standard e-book software would be needed to read the content from the secured media, but consumers would have their choice of both software and hardware vendors, and could freely change either software or hardware without impacting their ability to view and enjoy the content they purchased.

A bound, printed book has an aura, a mystique, all its own. The scent of new ink, the crisp rustle of fresh pages, and the slight resistance of a new, never-before-creased spine are visceral delights that no collection of pixels will ever replace. The sheer heft of a thick, new hardcover from a much-loved author is tangible proof of hundreds of thousands of words just waiting to be read. A tiny wafer of silicon circuitry just isn't the same. And, of course, you'll never be able to press a flower or prop up a sagging shelf with an e-book. As a mere substitute for printed volumes, e-books just don't satisfy, and millions of readers are expressing that dissatisfaction by staying away in droves.

But e-books have the potential to be far more than mere digital shadows of their more traditional parents. Electronic documents open up an entire new world of creative possibility, and I think there's an audience, if only the publishers would stop trying to stuff an old product in a new box.

I love going to the movies. There's nothing quite like seeing a picture on the big screen with the surround sound, munching lethal but utterly delicious movie popcorn, sharing the experience with a hundred or so strangers who are, for an hour or two, all caught up in the same story. I'd never quit going to the movies, even if the prices have gotten absurd, because nothing else can replace that feeling.

But I also love my DVDs. I love all the inside scoops, the extra footage, the gossip and gimmicks and games. I love being able to go back and analyze a scene, and being able to pause it when I need to go to the bathroom, or get another drink. Having the DVD of a movie doesn't replace seeing it in the theaters, it complements it. It is an entirely different experience, uniquely its own.

And if publishers gave me e-books that provided the same entertainment value, the same level of content and convenience as DVDs, I'd buy 'em by the truckload, although I'd never stop buying 'real' books. But I want those extras an e-book could provide.

How about you?