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 . . .
“Rambling Jack—what’s that?”
“A novel. Novella, I guess.”
“Yeah, it looks short. What is it, a hundred pages?”
“Sorta. It’s a duel language book, so really, only about… 50 pages total.”
“And this—what. . .
Many authors are compared to Roberto Bolaño. However, very few authors have the privilege of having a Roberto Bolaño quote on the cover of their work; and at that, one which states, “Good readers will find something that can be. . .
In Josep Maria de Sagarra’s Private Life, a man harangues his friend about literature while walking through Barcelona at night:
When a novel states a fact that ties into another fact and another and another, as the chain goes on. . .
César Aira dishes up an imaginative parable on how identity shapes our sense of belonging with Dinner, his latest release in English. Aira’s narrator (who, appropriately, remains nameless) is a self-pitying, bitter man—in his late fifties, living again with. . .
Originally published in French in 2007, We’re Not Here to Disappear (On n’est pas là pour disparaître) won the Prix Wepler-Fondation La Poste and the Prix Pierre Simon Ethique et Réflexion. The work has been recently translated by Béatrice Mousli. . .
Even though the latest from Jean Echenoz is only a thin volume containing seven of what he calls “little literary objects,” it is packed with surprises. In these pieces, things happen below the surface, sometimes both literally and figuratively. As. . .
Who is this woman? This is the question that opens Xiao Bai’s French Concession, a novel of colonial-era Shanghai’s spies and revolutionaries, police and smugglers, who scoot between doorways, walk nonchalantly down avenues, smoke cigars in police bureaus, and lounge. . .