Ryan Call’s book trade thing: it really works!
“No matter how good of a tan you get, there’s always someone around with a better one. One year, me and Tutti went to Greece. I thought, I’m gonna get the best fuckin’ tan ever. And it happened. I came back home and nobody had a better tan. I went and visited everybody I knew and I thought, There, you fuckers, top that.”
—For Those Whom God Has Blessed with Fingers by Ken Sparling.
Thanks, Ken. This is really rad so far.
Everyone else should also become a part of the HTMLGiant Book Exchange.
Open City Benefit at the National Arts Club this Thursday
Ever since they debuted with an issue that featured Hubert Selby Jr. and Mary Gaitskill, plus art by Jeff Koons, Open City has been one of the best literary magazines around. And since 1999 Open City has also been publishing books, including David Berman’s Actual Air, Sam Lipsyte’s Venus Drive, Rachel Sherman’s The First Hurt, and Edward St. Aubyn’s Mother’s Milk, which was shortlisted for the Man Booker prize and named a New York Times notable book in 2005. Open City is either about as cool as prestigious things get or as prestigious as cool things get. I’m not sure which, but I guess it doesn’t matter. The point is, they’re awesome–but for how much longer? The thing about Awesome, see, is that she’s always hungry, and so Open City is holding a benefit to raise some much-needed scratch so that Awesome can eat during the next fiscal year.
READ MORE >
May 19th, 2009 / 3:45 pm
Muumuu fantasy gmail chat
Tao Lin will never publish me, so I did it for him.
‘The Rough South of Larry Brown’
Thanks to Aaron Manning for sending over this wonderful clip from a feature length documentary on Larry Brown, including commentary on how he got started writing, and his early submission/rejection process: how can you not love this man?
Damn I want the rest of this.
MLP Chapbooks Arrive
J. A. Tyler’s Mudlicious Press publishes these tiny chapbooks.(Click here to order.) Mine arrived today. They are cute things, these chapbooks. I like getting them. Today I got P’.H. Madore’s “Da Vinci Died Before Cigarettes”, Matthew Savoca’s “Altruism”, “In Praise of Virgins” by Johannes Goransson (sorry that I have no umlaut) and a sticker with a picture of a dead looking whale that has the words “bleached whale” on it. READ MORE >
New Episodes of The Home Video Review of Books Now Available
httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L2-zdxy2dpg&
Don’t wait for the DVD extras! Watch them now. Books of poetry (and at least one novel) are “reviewed” with short bizarre bursts of cinema, intended to make you free-associate and baffle happily. I’m highly pleased to report that this latest installment contains a review of my poetry chapbook, More Perfect Depictions of Noise. Here’s what they thought-
httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F6Ht-Lsg_U4&
I say that video is the equivalent of one thumbs up. Also reviewed this issue is Bob, or Man on Boat by Peter Markus, To Hell With Sleep by Anselm Berrigan (the other video included in this post), and a shit-hell of a lot more. Check it out.
May 17th, 2009 / 10:48 pm
Novel naming contest
*Update* Contest is over, pr won. The answers are Under the Volcano, Lord of the Flies, On the Road, As I Lay Dying, and A Farewell to Arms. Congrats pr!
The drawing above depicts five titles of novels. These novels are all very well known. There are probably many other titles of novels inadvertently contained in the drawing, but the drawing was rendered with five specific novels in mind. The first person to guess all five correctly in the comment section wins. Multiple entrees allowed, but winning answers must be in one comment.
Keep in mind that the winner may be just someone who correctly collates other people’s semi-correct answers, so as important imagination is, so is judgement. The ‘first person’ will simply be assessed by the chronological comments. (If your comment does not link to your website/blog with your contact information accessible, please provide email in comment.)
PRIZE details (after the break):
Myths of History / Histories of Myths, with your host, Franz Kafka
The history of the world, as it is writen and handed down by word of mouth, often fails us completely; but man’s intuitive capacity, though it often misleads, does lead, does not ever abandon one. And so, for instance, the tradition of the seven wonders of the world has always had associated with it the rumor that there was another, an eight wonder of the world, and concerning this eighth wonder there were various, perhaps contradictory, statements made, the vagueness of which was explained by the obscurity of ancient times.
—The Blue Octavo Notebooks (Second Notebook)
Submissions Numbers: Flatmancrooked
Duotrope (which, frankly, I haven’t been checking out lately, so anyone with more current information, please send it along) offers percentage of acceptance in regard to journals, but only in regard to the numbers offered by Duotrope users. In this new series, I’ll be sharing information gathered regarding the volume of submissions received by a journal. After the jump, read Flatmancrooked‘s numbers. And thanks, Flatmancrooked (click here to get to them), for the information. It means a lot to the writers submitting:
May 16th, 2009 / 10:10 pm
Pudding Pops!
This is a speech worthy of Father Mapple, given at a college by television actor Bill Cosby in Percival Everett’s new novel, I Am Not Sidney Poitier—one of the funniest books I have read in quite a while. I’ll never sell Pudding Pops for the white man. Check this book out. It’s genius.
You men think I’m going to take it easy on you. You think because you’re in college and sitting here in khakis and loafers that I’m all right with you. You think that because you’re not bopping your heads to rap music while sitting here that I’m going to embrace you. You’re wrong. You’re all pathetic. You’re pathetic until you’re not pathetic, until you do something strong and good and not until you do that. You think because you probably won’t be clad in an orange jumpsuit for stealing a piece of pound cake that I feel all warm and fuzzy about you. I sell Pudding Pops for the white man. I don’t know why I’m saying that, but I am. I make myself sick, but the white man is not to blame. He didn’t put the gun in the hands of the black kid down in juvenile hall. No, his missing father put it there. Pound cake. I’m on television. Black girls have babies by three or four fathers and why? Pudding Pops! That’s what I’m saying. Some of you are probably wondering how I can stand up here, call me high and mighty, talking about how I can stand here when I’m being sued for having babies with a woman other than my wife. Well, hell, I can afford to have babies. Pudding Pops! If you don’t know who your children’s friends are, then you’re not doing your job…I kissed a Japanese woman on screen in nineteen sixty-six and managed not to have a baby with her. I want to thank you for having me here today, and I want you to know that I will be more than happy to sign copies of my book, Fatherhood, which is on sale just outside at an attractive discount. Believe me, you need to read it. Thank you.