What happens when Kate Atkinson leads a cadre of New York Times readers through a rousing game of Exquisite Corpse? Find out over here.
In the Boston Review, Jess Row wades - slowly, interestingly, not always coherently - into the perpetually roiling waters of Theory of the Novel, taking on the canon wars, realism vs. the avant-garde, etc. Is it really "a safe bet that your average well-informed critic today has never read a single work of criticism by a writer of color?" Probably not, even granting Row's exception. But possibly worth arguing about. If you like that sort of thing.