Let's imagine what it would be like if an internet surfer read a novel in the same way they viewed the web. Just to make it interesting, let's imagine it's the sort of book I write, a murder mystery.

The surfer clicks on a page and finds that he's arrived at Chapter 5. He discovers the hero is already on the case, relentlessly pursuing the murderer of Imogen Halstead, rich heiress (Who? The surfer has no idea who this is, for a start). Worse, he has no idea why Inspector Chancely is there, and why he is letting our hero run the investigation. (Isn't it his job? He's the police!) Worser, the surfer has no idea why the little group (including a girl, don't forget the pretty girl!) is lurking in the basement of the Town Hall. Why are they there? How did they get in? Why do they have to be so quiet, and who are they waiting for?

In desperation, the surfer clicks ahead, to the final chapter. Scanning the page he finds answers to questions, (mainly the ones he hasn't asked). He finds that Thomas murdered the rich young playgirl. (Who's Thomas? He doesn't know, since this character didn't appear until Chapter Seven.) He finds that Inspector Chanceley has disappeared, although he may have been replaced by another policeman, Sergeant Something-or-other. (But why? Was he demoted? Was the Inspector transferred? Was he murdered, when he unwittingly stumbled on the former murderer trying to cover up his crime?) Finally, the novel ends with the hero disappearing off on holiday with the pretty young girl. (Uhh, who was that, exactly? The surfer scans back to Chapter Two, looking for clues, but there's no girl there. Is she someone he ought to know? Has she been in other books in this series? Is she a kind of 'Batgirl' assistant to our hero? The surfer is baffled.)

No. It doesn't work. Murder Mysteries are written in a strict order, and the author expects the reader to read it in the same sequence. Clues are scattered around the text, and when the reader arrives at the conclusion, s/he is expected to sigh, and say to themselves 'Oh yes, of course. I should have got that'. In short, mystery writers don't need surfers. They can't benefit from people who pick up their books, scan a few pages here and there, and then complain that they 'don't get it'. The mystery reader, on the other hand, is someone who likes to see the plot laid out in order; likes to get to know the characters and hear their stories; likes to be thinking about how the book might turn out. That sort of reader wants something to think about and savour, ie the complete opposite of the internet surfer.

The surfer is someone who wants immediate answers. They want information, fun, thrills, excitement, interest - without having to make any sort of effort on their part. They want a reaction now, straightaway. They don't want to have to wait, especially for The Last Chapter. They have the attention span of a gnat and the literary aspirations of a politician. Really, they are completely the wrong sort of person for books, real old-fashioned, written books. The surfer wants Summaries, Synopses, Extracts, Feeds, maybe, but never a whole book. Wow, boring, man.

So, the real mystery then, is why so many Internet Authors waste their time trying to attract surfers? These authors spend hours constructing web sites that are glamourous, interesting; stuffed with video extracts, cartoons, pics of people and places. They agonise over eye-catching headlines and intriguing sub-heads. They are struggling to create interest and catch the eye of the passing surfer. Why? Don't they realise that the internet surfer may have clicked on their site by accident? The may be 'passing through'. They may be looking for something and been diverted to the book site by chance. Yes, they may be intrigued by the picture, but they haven't got the attention span to bother to read what it means and why it's there. Worst of all, they haven't got the level of interest to work their way through your site to find out where the extracts are - the Synopses and sample chapters - and definitely don't have the time or the inclination to read any of your stuff, let alone buy a book (or even a download).

If you are an Internet Author, then you know full well that you want to attract customers. Get this - surfers don't buy books! They buy CDs, sweatshirts, souvenirs of Venice Beach and surfboards. They are never, ever, going to devote hours of their time to reading one of your books.

No. A much better plan could be had by looking at the success of Waterstone's in England. Tim Waterstone was an assistant manager in W H Smiths the newsagent, many years ago. He was bored and frustrated in his job, and painfully aware that the way Smiths set out their books, like tins of beans in a supermarket, wasn't appealing to customers. Summoning his courage, he left his cosy job and set up his own chain of bookstores, working to his idea of what the people who actually came in off the street and bought books wanted. His shops had rows of bookshelves made of ancient stained wood. They were quiet and respectful places to be, with dim light and curtains on the windows. The staff were mainly young, knowledgable and enthusiastic. They seemed to be enjoying their jobs. The stores were large with lots of quiet corners where customers could pause, examine books and enjoy the experience. There were overstuffed sofas and chairs, where customers could sit and read. Later, coffee shops were installed in the shops too. Customers could spend hours there, dawdling over their purchases, relishing the books and the experience. It was relaxing, comforting and reminiscent of a bygone age. Still, Tim Waterstone sold shedloads of books. He made so much money and was so successful that W H Smith stepped in and bought him out.

Is there a lesson here? Waterstones is the ideal sort of bookstore for people who actually enjoy books. If you could design a bookselling website that was as relaxed and comforting as Waterstones, you are far more likely to sell books than having a site that looks like MTV. It means that your virtual store won't be very appealing to surfers, but then, who needs them?

Not Internet Authors, that's for sure.