HEADLINE Read Any Good Webs Lately? That's the question in a new field of computer fiction, where readers shape novels and stories never end. SIDEBAR: When Art Resembles National Security (See end of text). BYLINE By Joshua Quittner. NEWSDAY STAFF WRITER LENGTH 214 Lines PAY CLOSE ATTENTION if you read "Agrippa," a short story written for the computer by science fiction author William Gibson. It turns to gibberish after you view it. You won't have that problem with Judy Malloy's "Its Name Was Penelope." Then again, don't lose your place in her piece: "Penelope" shuffles nearly 400 pages of a fictional woman's "memories" every time you reread it. It's never the same twice. During the past few years, dozens of writers have been experimenting with a brave new way to tell stories. Rather than simply placing traditional books on computer disks, as some publishers have done, they are using the computer as an instrument with its own powerful voice--and creating literature that couldn't exist without it. These stories, called webs, can include sound, graphics, even limited video. They usually make the reader help shape the fiction, cracking the wall that separates the reader from the thing that's being read. While some critics dismiss computer-based literature as a curiosity more interesting to talk about than actually view, others say a new art form is being born that promises to be as significant as the motion picture. "It really has the potential to be the next wave of story telling," said George P. Landow, an English professor at Brown University and the author of two books about computer-based texts. "The question is, is this total chaos and anarchy, or is it a new reading form that makes the reader a kind of creator?" In the modular bitspeak of cyberspace, most of this interactive literature is described as hypertext, a format in which key words or images on a computer screen are highlighted and interconnected. When a reader "clicks" with a pointing device, such as a mouse, on a highlighted section of the text, the reader pops into a new place in the hypertext work. By following links around the web, the reader discovers different ideas and themes. With a number of webs recently released or about to be published, computer users can decide for themselves whether this is a gimmick or a new art form. While most webs can be read only on Macintosh computers, versions for IBM compatibles are starting to arrive. Some hypertext pieces have been posted on electronic bulletin boards. Plans are even being laid for an interactive fiction cable-TV channel. "Let's just call it a 'word channel,' " said Mary Milton, a Manhattan publisher who has been talking to a number of cable companies about her idea. "Some of these word groupings will be just linear, so that you can just download them and keep them. Others will be interactive and you can respond in a variety of ways." Milton, who said she has 15 people preparing humorous, political and fiction writings for a cable channel, promised that "this is stuff that everybody will be able to read. It's a totally new kind of art." For instance, in "afternoon," by Michael Joyce, a man is having lunch with his boss, whom he suspects of having an affair with his wife. The man sees a bowl of hard candy on the table. The reader may click on the words "crystal bowl" and be linked to another section, in which we learn that the man believes he may have seen his wife and son die in a traffic accident earlier that day. On any given screen of text in "afternoon," as many as 15 words can be selected that take the reader "off on different reflections," Joyce said. This allows the story to be told from different perspectives--the man's, the boss's, the wife's--and, Joyce maintains, more closely simulates the complexity of life. "It's a better way of telling a story because it redeems the multiplicity that we're used to," Joyce said. "We know that in our own lives, the track that ends up being our life is filled with change and could have gone in all different ways." His piece is published by Eastgate Systems Inc., in Cambridge, Mass., the largest publisher of hypertext fiction. "Breaking the scroll"--getting away from traditional, straight-line narrative--has been a concern of many modern fiction writers since long before the personal computer. For instance, James Joyce's 1939 "Finnegans Wake" is sometimes described as a book that can be read starting from any page. More recently, writers like Milorad Pavic, author of the 1988 "Dictionary of the Khazars," have been working toward a fiction that begins in the middle, not necessarily on Page 1. But for writers like Malloy, who worked with "experimental books and artists' catalogs" --books whose pages can be rearranged to yield new stories--using computers is a more natural way to explore nonlinear plot lines. Michael Joyce and other hypertext authors agree that the "forking paths" structure of the new literature poses new problems for readers--for instance, how do you know you're finished reading something that forks all over the place? The effect is also disorienting to first-time readers who are used to the unbroken scroll of conventional books. Landow, of Brown University, said that some of these problems will be solved by new writers, while others may simply disappear as readers get more sophisticated. The potential audience of hypertext fiction, he said, is huge: Today's students are already working with hypertext in educational software and are comfortable with the idea of wandering around through a maze of ideas. "Look at kids watching 'Sesame Street' on TV. They can follow rapid soundbites and things that are very disorienting to people in their 60s," he said. The new medium "is creating creative minds," said Robert Coover, author of the best-selling post-modern novel, "The Public Burning." "A lot of people who never thought of themselves as artists or writers suddenly are doing it." Coover started teaching a hypertext fiction workshop to undergraduates at Brown University last year. While he is unsure whether the medium will take off--Coover himself has no immediate plans to write a hypertext novel--he believes something important is going on. That was evident the first time he sat down with a dozen students in his hypertext class. "We started out having two rooms, one where the machines were and one were we could go away and talk about it," Coover said. "We found out that we never wanted to go away." He said the students created a piece called "Hotel," in which readers could wander around the main desk, the restaurant, swimming pool and lodging rooms of a hypertext hotel, and read interlinked stories. "The students were free to open up a room," he said. "You could actually change the text that someone else had written or undermine a link, take the story somewhere else." When he pointed out one problem to the students - at various times, the bartender was a woman or man, sometimes young, sometimes old--it was quickly rectified: The next time Coover visited the hypertext hotel bar he found a link to a hotel room. Inside, was an outerspace creature that was daily birthing different kinds of full-grown bartenders. In interactive fiction, "things happen that couldn't happen in conventional literature--surprises," said Nancy Pricenthal, a Manhattan-based critic who has surveyed the interactive fiction field and was surprised by the huge amount of activity going on. Pricenthal, who described herself as "not a person who has any native sense of sympathy for technology," said she was initially skeptical of the new medium--and still believes much of it is "a lot more interesting to talk about than see." Certainly, one of the most interesting things that's being talked about--though few, including its author, have seen it self-destruct is "Agrippa," by Gibson, who wrote the cyberpunk cult favorite, "Neuromancer." "Agrippa," which will be packaged with separate copper etchings by Manhattan artist Dennis Ashbaugh, is supposed to go on sale next week, its publisher Kevin Begos says. It will sell for $450, or $1,500 for the deluxe edition. This seems like a lot of money to pay for something that turns into unbreakably encoded nonsense after you read it; but you do get to keep the etchings, which change, too, yielding new images, when exposed over time to light. The furtiveness--"like something glimpsed through a keyhole"--is part of Gibson's message, he said, explaining that the story deals with his recollections of his father, who died when Gibson was a boy. "There are several levels of irony at work in this thing. I would hope it will compel the reader's very close attention," Gibson said. "It's sort of like, okay listen up - I'm only going to say this once." While the computer works well for this piece, Gibson says he has no plans to write a hypertext novel. "I'm strictly of the old school," he said. "My thing is words in a row." * * * SIDEBAR: When Art Resembles National Security IS IT ART? Or is it national security? William Gibson's short story, "Agrippa," is designed to automatically and irrevocably encode itself after a viewer reads it on a computer screen. But because a sophisticated and virtually unbreakable encryption program, known as RSA, is used to do the code work, and because RSA, like most encryption devices, is closely guarded by the U.S. government, it's possible that "Agrippa" may not be sold overseas, said Kevin Begos, the publisher. "It's just a strange issue," Begos said. It could be a lucrative one as well, because a Japanese company has already asked for exclusive rights to market hundreds of copies of "Agrippa" there. Interest in Europe has been high, too, Begos said. "We just don't have the faintest idea what to do." On the one hand, exporting a product with RSA code built into it is clearly controlled by the government, which monitors use of the code with particular attention because it is considered one of the best codes ever devised. "We want to know where it went and who's got it and how it's being used," said Daniel Cook, a spokesman for the State Department's Office of Defense Trade Controls. "The intent is to keep it out of the hands of people who shouldn't have it. "By definition, it would be controlled by us until you got a letter from us saying it wasn't," he added. "On a constitutional level, I find it personally offensive to have to ask" permission from the government, Begos said. Begos pointed out that this is a work of art, not a weapon. And it's no secret how RSA works; many papers have been published on the subject. Cook suggested that the publisher could avoid the whole issue by simpling creating an export copy that automatically deletes - rather than encrypts - the story. But because most good hackers can easily restore deleted files, this would hardly be a satisfactory resolution. In any event, Cook said that because the program apparently doesn't contain a key to decrypt the file, "I don't see us getting a major heartburn over it." Just ask for permission first, he said. * * * The Tangled Webs A sampler of hypertext webs available or about to be released. Note that current webs are for Macintosh computers only; IBM-compatible versions will be released shortly. Webs cost $20-$30. afternoon "afternoon" by Michael Joyce. Considered to be the first "major" example of hypertext literature. Man, walking to work, sees a fatal accident and believes his wife and son may be in the wreckage. But he doesn't stop. Published by Eastgate Systems Inc., Cambridge, Mass. Victory Garden "Victory Garden" by Stuart Moulthrop. The gulf war, as seen through the eyes of several people. Published by Eastgate Systems Inc., Cambridge, Mass. Beyond Cyberpunk! "Beyond Cyberpunk! A Do-it-Yourself Guide to the Future" by The Computer Lab, Rt. 4 Box 54C, Louisa, Va. 23093. Not a work of fiction, but the best use of sound, text and limited video graphics. A compendium of information about cyberpunk, a post-modern, techno-vision of the world. Its Name Was Penelope "Its Name Was Penelope" by Judy Malloy. A hypertext poem in six stanzas about a woman photographer. Reader begins with the first stanza, which contains a number of "memories." Each one of the reveries is postcard sized. Program shuffles the memories each time you reread it so that "you start to see echos and resonances of what you've seen before--literally," Malloy said. Published by Eastgate Systems Inc., Cambridge, Mass. The Dickens Web "The Dickens Web" by George P. Landow and others. Not fiction, but rather a hypertext web that contains 245 documents and 680 links, interweaving Dickens' novel, "Great Expectations," with related subjects, including history, religion and social issues in Victorian England. Published by Eastgate Systems Inc., Cambridge, Mass. **END OF STORY REACHED**