Justin Taylor is the author of the story collection Everything Here Is the Best Thing Ever, and the novel The Gospel of Anarchy. He is the editor of The Apocalypse Reader, Come Back Donald Barthelme, and co-editor (with Eva Talmadge) of The Word Made Flesh: Literary Tattoos from Bookworms Worldwide. With Jeremy Schmall he makes The Agriculture Reader, a limited-edition arts annual. He lives in Brooklyn.
Well, Matthew Simmons’s two-line post from Friday, about a new temporary Tin House submission policy, has now drawn 212 comments, with more still coming in. The discussion has been protracted and bizarre, as well as occasionally quite ugly–some of which was my fault; but also, it’s important to note, some of which wasn’t–but there have been some moments of real insight and/or useful dialogue, and I’d like to share my favorite one here. It appeared in the comment thread on Matthew’s post yesterday evening, but I’m just noticing it now. Its virtue is not merely in what Andy says–though he says a lot of insightful and useful things, which are the categories of merit on which the award is based–but also in the calm and open manner in which he says them. Unsurprisingly, the position he takes is more or less exactly the same as my own, minus the rancor, which is probably the direct result of his not directly engaging with anyone. He just says what he thinks. As Commenter of the Day, an office which I just made up and which it may well never occur to me to think to award again, his duty is simply to do what he already did–post the comment which got my attention in the first place, and so he (and everyone else) can rest secure in the knowledge that his being awarded the office coincides exactly with his fulfillment of its duties and therefore, at midnight tonight, the completion of his term. Here is his comment, reproduced in full:
July 4th, 2010 / 6:31 pm edit Andy Hunter—
My first reaction to the Tin House policy was, “Ha Ha. Good for them.”
The economic arguments against it are a joke, as are the ‘local bookstore’ arguments. Most people can afford to buy a couple books a year. Most people live near bookstores. And if you don’t? Write a note explaining that. Not much to get outraged about.
Sometimes I’m amazed at how quickly commenters get outraged around here, but then I realize: being outraged is fun.
Anyway, the condescension complaint is valid, although I think TH meant it in good humor – which apparently didn’t come off.
The thing that I think many here are missing is the incredible volume of submissions Tin House must get. EL is not half as well known, but we get thousands of submissions every issue, and even with 35 readers, it’s very hard to keep up. Especially because everything is read twice. Sometimes we regret our open policy, but it was the policy we wanted to see when we were on the other side, as writers. Now that we’re on the publisher side, it gets a little rough. There are many, many writers who are scanning duotrope and submitting to magazines they’d never fit in. The majority of these writers don’t seem to read enough, to be honest. They really ought to buy and read more books. Collectively, EL spends thousands of hours reading submissions, which is exponentially more time than we spend on anything else. The temptation to put up a small hurdle for submitters is understandable. Especially one that is directed at helping your industry, and supporting what you love.
For about 4 months, EL offered $6 off subscriptions to writers who submitted work to us, via a coupon code. It brought the cost of a digital subscription down to $3 an issue. Out of over 3,000 submitters during that time, less than a dozen used that code. I’m sure Tin House has similar stories.
There has been a lot of wondering, here and elsewhere, if emerging writers do enough to support the institutions which they wish to support them (i.e. ever buy a literary magazine). Tin House decided to playfully push the issue, and lighten the slush pile for themselves at the same time. It’s not so horrible.
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PS- As a special and counter-intuitive reward for having achieved distinction in the comment thread, I have disabled comments on this post, granting Andy–and everyone else–relief from any perceived obligation to respond, nitpick, attack, or praise. You can still do those things, but you’ll have to (and you should) do them over in the already-existing-thread on the post from which these words were drawn.
The great J.C. Hallman–author of, among other things, The Devil is a Gentleman, and editor of The Story About the Story–has a new book coming out in August, In Utopia: Six Kinds of Eden and the Search for a Better Paradise. In classic Hallman style, In Utopia combines personal essay-style reflection with travel journalism and a good bit of history. I’m working my way through the galley right now, and enjoying myself very much. You can read more about the book on Hallman’s website. You can also find a short excerpt from In Utopia, in the summer issue of Bookforum, which happens to be utopia-themed, and also features–among its many wonders–duelling u/dystopia essays by Paul La Farge and Keith Gessen.
Still not enough Hallman for you? Well then turn your attention to The Millions, then, and read two new essays, “Ayn Rand, Rand Paul, and Utopian Schemes“, and “Drifted Toward Dragons: Utopia Today“.
So that’s the latest in Hallman-related happenings. Look for the book in August.
Today is Tao Lin’s birthday. He is 27 years old.
Also, according to his blog, today is the last day of operations for The Tao Lin Store. If a person was a person who enjoys Tao Lin, or in some respect ‘supports’ his existence, this might be a fine day to lend some ‘existential’ ‘support’ in the ‘form’ ‘of’ ‘purchasing’ one or ‘more’ ‘i’te’m’s’ ‘f’r’o’m’ the Tao Lin store. One item ‘you’ might ‘want’ is a ‘copy’ of the ‘2nd’ edition of Sometimes My Heart Pushes My Ribs by ‘Ellen’ Ke’nn’edy. Early ‘reports’ suggest ‘5 x fixed typo,’ and an ‘updated’ copyright page. You could also pre-order a copy of Richard Yates, either at the bn.com ‘link’ ‘I’ ‘just’ ‘offered’ or you could get your ‘copy’ early if you join the Rumpus Book Club, because ‘RY’ is ‘their’ next ‘selection’.
IS THERE A ‘CONNECTION’ BETWEEN TAO’S BIRTHDAY AND THE ‘CLOSING’ OF HIS ONLINE STORE? Stephen and Marshall will be moderating a discussion on this topic in our comments section. Wild speculation is encouraged. Happy birthday, friend.
Alec Niedenthal spent the weekend here in NYC, and we got into a conversation about Bellow’s Ravelstein, which I recently read and loved very much. Among its other signal virtues, it is one of the best books on friendship I think I’ve ever read. This got us talking about books about friendship as a literary subject, and we decided to see how quickly we could think of a dozen books that treat it as the (or a) major theme. Here’s what we came up with, in the order we came up with it–a highly non-exhaustive, non-hierarchical list off the top of our heads. Annotations indicate which of us has read the book in question. Interestingly, the final tally was four books only he’d read, four books only I’d read, and four books we’d both read.
Ravelstein – Saul Bellow (J + A)
The Waves – Virginia Woolf (J + A)
Humboldt’s Gift – Saul Bellow (A)
Pale Fire – Vladimir Nabokov (J + A)
Try – Dennis Cooper (J)
Hey Jack! – Barry Hannah (J + A)
A Sentimental Education – Gustave Flaubert (A)
It – Stephen King (J)
Veronica – Mary Gaitskill (J)
Chilly Scenes of Winter – Ann Beattie (A)
David Copperfield – Charles Dickens (J)
Correction – Thomas Bernhard (A)
Anyone got further recommendations or thoughts about these books? You know what to do.
Elissa Bassist is just looking to get paid–a highly noble goal, and one you can help her meet by donating $2 when you read this story she wrote. You can also read it for free if you want to, by skipping straight to here. Can anyone explain to me how this doesn’t make Elissa Bassist the new Radiohead?
When I first took a job as stripper, I had no sense that my decision to do so would have any real, far reaching effects on my life. To the contrary, I found in sex work a solution to very nearly all my problems at the time. No longer homesick or lonely, my new job not only remedied the un-belonging I’d experienced as a foreigner, but— as a product of a broken, working-class household, the first in her family to go to college, let alone study abroad– through sex work I discovered in myself a seemingly unending source of power and autonomy relating but not only having to do with my newfound ability to make money, and lots of it, anywhere in the world. And yet…
– from “Not Safe for Work,” an essay by my friend, Melissa Petro, about the lasting stigma associated not with being but with having ever been a sex worker. It is on the front page of the Rumpus today, and despite its title does not actually contain anything that will get you in trouble at your job. Which is just one reason why you should go read it now.
Like a sermon described in the novel, the language in “Witz” is “scripted to sound,” designed to capture the verbal distortions of East Coast speech. We hear of “Mortal Beach” and “Soygens General.” But while the scale of the sentences comfortably exceeds the lung capacity of most readers (Cohen isn’t afraid to unfurl a five-page sentence), the prose constantly highlights language’s sonar qualities: “At lot’s edge, last scattered lungs of leaves still hang from the boughs, breathe uneasy.” Cohen’s sentences are fluid, living things: “This lulling, ship’s loll, . . . a remnant, a reminder of the darkness, . . . and, flying across that sky a fish lands on the deck, at the forecastle, the fallen castle.”
Read the full review. And kudos, l’chaim, and cheers.
Dan: […] I also think that flirting with you sometimes felt like playing with a puppy. Lots of energy without any particular direction, light wrestling, and you’d have no idea what to do with the stick if I threw it for you.
Elissa: I’d know what to do with the stick—
Dan: No, you wouldn’t. I felt old around you. I felt like I did drugs. I felt like a person who got drunk. I felt like an Adult. The problem was that I said shit like, “I won’t sleep with you.” This is maybe important because right then, you are freely allowed to compare yourself with other girls that I HAD slept with.
from “The Exit Interview: A Conversation with My Ex-Boyfriend” by the funniest romper at the Rumpus, Elissa Bassist.
