Our 2 for $22 deal (pick 2 Open Letter books for $22 flat, and you’re automatically entered to win a year of free books) is coming to a close, so if you haven’t checked it out—or did and were planning to order later—now is the time . . .
I know it feels like like self-promotion day on Three Percent, but this bit of promotion is important . . . really (at least to those of you who’ve written in asking about it).
The other week we launched an awesomely great deal with a catchy name: 2 for $22. The deal is this:
Choose any 2 books for $22 flat (not even shipping, if you’re in the U.S.). In addition, and you’ll be automatically entered to win a free subscription to a full year of Open Letter titles (or, if you’re already a subscriber, you could get your current subscription extended for an additional free year). So, that’s a potential of 12 beautiful books for $22. Not bad.
Over the past week or so, we’ve heard from a bunch of you that the ordering page was causing them problems, so we pulled it down until we could get it all worked out . . . This brings me to today: It’s all worked out!
You can go here to check it out and maybe pick some books and enter the free subscription drawing.
By the way, this offer is only open until Nov. 15 . . .
Don’t forget that we’re still in the midst of our 2 for $22 deal.
Choose any 2 books for $22 flat, and you’re automatically entered to win a free subscription for a full year of Open Letter titles (or, if you’re already a subscriber, you could get your current subscription extended for an additional free year). That’s a potential of 12 books for $22, which has an original retail value of $$$.
In celebration of our thirteen-month anniversary, we’re offering a special on all twelve of the titles we’ve published so far: from now until November can buy any 2 Open Letter books for $22. And when you do (and hopefully you will—this is a killer bargain!), you’ll automatically be entered into a drawing to win a free one-year subscription.
(So, if you’re one of those lucky people, you could end up with 12 books for $22 . . . )
And if I might make a suggestion: I would highly recommend getting a copy of Jan Kjaerstad’s The Discoverer. The book just came out and is going to be reviewed in the October 25th issue of the New York Times Book Review. (Our first Times review!) And as a sneak preview, next week we’ll be serializing a chunk of the novel on the website . . .
The last five days of the eleventh-century Icelandic politician, writer of sagas, and famous murder victim Snorri Sturleleson (the Norwegian spelling, Snorre, is preserved in the book) make up Thorvald Steen’s most recently translated historical fiction, The Little Horse. Murdered. . .
We all know Paris, or at least we think we know it. The Eiffel Tower. The Latin Quarter. The Champs-Élysées. The touristy stuff. In Dominique Fabre’s novel, Guys Like Me, we’re shown a different side of Paris: a gray, decaying. . .
One hundred pages into Birth of a Bridge, the prize-winning novel from French writer Maylis de Kerangal, the narrator describes how starting in November, birds come to nest in the wetlands of the fictional city of Coca, California, for three. . .
At 30, the Mexican writer Valeria Luiselli is already gathering her rosebuds. Faces in the Crowd, her poised debut novel, was published by Coffee House Press, along with her Brodsky-infused essay collection, Sidewalks. The essays stand as a theoretical map. . .
Fantomas Versus the Multinational Vampires: An Attainable Utopia (narrated by Julio Cortázar) is, not disappointingly, as wild a book as its title suggests. It is a half-novella half-graphic novel story about . . . what, exactly? A European tribunal, Latin. . .
Marie NDiaye has created a tiny, psychological masterpiece with her Self-Portrait in Green. In it she explores how our private fears and insecurities can distort what we believe to be real and can cause us to sabotage our intimate relationships.. . .
Reading a genre book—whether fantasy, science fiction, crime, thriller, etc.—which begins to seem excessively, stereotypically bad, I have to make sure to ask myself: is this parodying the flaws of the genre? Usually, this questioning takes its time coming. In. . .