Is Karl Ove Kanusgaard’s seven-volume, 3,600-page, vaugely-autobiographical epic possible to pitch over the course of an elevator ride? The good people over at n+1 are willing to give it a shot! Have you ever wondered about the view outside of Knausgaard’s window? I bet you have now.
Just Give Me a Minute
Poet Rocker
Paul Muldoon’s band, The Wayside Shrines, is the latest project for Paul Kolderie, the Brooklyn-based producer for Radiohead and Pixies. (via)
Deaf Poets Society
The inaugural issue of Deaf Poets Society is out, featuring new “intersectional disability literature & art.” For other recommended reading, don’t miss our Great Second-Half Book Preview.
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The Pale King Comes into View
David Foster Wallace’s unfinished novel The Pale King now has a cover and an April 15 release date (appropriate for its IRS-oriented subject matter.) The New York Times has a bit more.
Curiosities
An excerpt of the lost and recently found Alexandre Dumas novel The Last CavalierAn assessment of poetic cliches in VQR. The surprise: some actually improve your chance of getting published.Jennifer Gilmore interviews the criminally underrated Max Apple.That novelists’ strike not working out so well.Despite some withering condescension, Robert Gottlieb has interesting things to say about John Steinbeck.Penguin UK offers up some alternative storytelling techniques with its We Tell Stories site. The first is a tale by Charles Cumming told by messages inserted into Google Maps. (Thx, Mrs. Millions)Books cops like. (Thx, Laurie)The trend of the massive hyper-expensive book continues.Daniel Radosh points out that the New York Times has, yet again, published a trend piece on bloggers getting book deals.And finally… The Catalog of Unfit Toys: Finding Delight in the Defective
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All the Sad Young Literary Women
Are New York Times book reviewers biased toward writers who are “white and male and live in Brooklyn”? Chris Jackson at The Atlantic laments all the sad young literary women.
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“Perhaps James Franco should just stick to acting.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” said Guy Fieri, as he read the New York Times’s review of James Franco’s photography exhibit. “Their review of my restaurant is no longer the most gleefully negative thing they’ve published.”
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This is the thing that mystifies me about Knausgaard. However good or bad the books are (I’ve only read the first one), how on earth – in this age, in this economy – did he convince a publisher to that a seven-part quasi-autobiographical series was a good idea? How did he pitch it so that a publisher would say “YES LET’S PRINT ALL OF THEM”? Was it really the strength of his previous work? It’s a head-scratcher for anyone who’s ever tried to pitch just one book.