Just got a message from Riky Stock at the German Book Office that there are still a few openings for this year’s Frankfurt Book Fair International Booksellers Program. Similar to the editor’s trip, this program helps introduce booksellers from around the world to their German counterparts. Somewhat geared towards people interested in importing and selling German books, but I can only imagine that any perceptive bookseller would get a lot out of this sort of trip and the various meetings with international booksellers.
Anyway, here’s the info she sent me:
The international programme provides foreign booksellers with an insight into the functions and structures of the German book trade, enabling them to efficiently organise their import and sales of German books. The programme promotes dialogue with other booksellers, German publishers and wholesalers and helps participants to create their own network.
In addition to the attendance at the Frankfurt Book Fair and visits to German publishing companies the programme includes an introduction to the German book market, one day of work experience in a bookshop, two visits to wholesalers as well as cultural activities.
All visits will be supported by presentations given during the seminar. Participants will be able to report about their home countries’ book markets. Time is allowed for in depth exchanges of experience between participants, speakers and organisers.
Booksellers Programme 2009
Organizer: Ausstellungs- und Messe-GmbH / Frankfurt Book Fair
Funded by: Foreign Office, Frankfurt Book Fair
Date: 15 – 22 October 2009
Participants: booksellers from non-German speaking regions with an interest in importing German books
Seminar language: English
Costs for participants: € 290,- incl. VAT;
Travel expenses to Germany and back home are excluded.
Room, board and local transport is taken care of by the organiser.
Contact: Nadja Mortensen: mortensen at book-fair dot com
Randall Jarrell once argued a point that I will now paraphrase and, in doing so, over-simplify: As a culture, we need book criticism, not book reviews. I sort of agree, but let’s not get into all of that. Having finished. . .
Like any good potboiler worth its salt, Fuminori Nakamura’s The Gun wastes no time setting up its premise: “Last night, I found a gun. Or you could say I stole it, I’m not really sure. I’ve never seen something so. . .
Heiner Resseck, the protagonist in Monika Held’s thought-provoking, first novel, This Place Holds No Fear, intentionally re-lives his past every hour of every day. His memories are his treasures, more dear than the present or future. What wonderful past eclipses. . .
If you’ve ever worked in a corporate office, you’ve likely heard the phrase, “Perception is reality.” To Björn, the office worker who narrates Jonas Karlsson’s novel The Room, the reality is simple: there’s a door near the bathroom that leads. . .
I recently listened to Three Percent Podcast #99, which had guest speaker Julia Berner-Tobin from Feminist Press. In addition to the usual amusement of finally hearing both sides of the podcast (normally I just hear parts of Chad’s side. . .
Let’s not deceive ourselves, man is nothing very special. In fact, there are so many of us that our governments don’t know what to do with us at all. Six billion humans on the planet and only six or seven. . .
“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. . .