One of my favorite literary organizations in the country has to be the Ledig House. I could go on and on about how beautiful Omi, NY is, what a great host DW Gibson is, how cool the international authors and translators are that visit, so on and forth.
(And for those of you in the CNY region, you can come find out more on November 9th at one of our RTWCS events featuring four current Ledig House residents.)
Anyway, on November 4th, Ledig House is having a huge fundraiser at 107 Waverly Place, NYC, from 6-8:30. There’s going to be live music, booze, a literary trivia quiz game show, and more booze. Tickets are $100 and can be purchased here.
But for those of us who don’t live in NYC, or those of you who just want to do more to support this great organization, they’re also hosting an online silent auction. Lots of good stuff to bid on, including signed first editions of several Paul Auster books (and signed copies of books by Rick Moody and someone named Dan Brown), literary salon dinners with Lynne Tillman, with Joseph O’Neill, with Gary Shteyngart, and even the chance to have an agent
tear apart evaluate your manuscript.
Bidding is open until October 28th, and most everything is 100% tax-deductible . . .
It hasn’t quite neared the pitch of the waiting-in-line-at-midnight Harry Potter days, but in small bookstores and reading circles of New York City, an aura has attended the novelist Elena Ferrante and her works. One part curiosity (Who is she?),. . .
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Miruna is a novella written in the voice of an adult who remembers the summer he (then, seven) and his sister, Miruna (then, six) spent in the Evil Vale with their grandfather (sometimes referred to as “Grandfather,” other times as. . .
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While looking back at an episode in his life, twenty-year-old Taguchi Hiro remembers what his friend Kumamoto Akira said about poetry.
Its perfection arises precisely from its imperfection . . . . I have an image in my head. I see. . .
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Spoiler alert: acclaimed writer Stefan Zweig and his wife Lotte kill themselves at the end of Lauren Seksik’s 2010 novel, The Last Days.
It’s hard to avoid spoiling this mystery. Zweig’s suicide actually happened, in Brazil in 1942, and since then. . .
To call Kjell Askildsen’s style sparse or terse would be to understate just how far he pushes his prose. Almost nothing is explained, elaborated on. In simple sentences, events occur, words are exchanged, narrators have brief thoughts. As often as. . .
After a mysterious woman confesses to an author simply known as “R” that she has loved him since she was a teenager, she offers the following explanation: “There is nothing on earth like the love of a child that passes. . .
Floating around the internet amid the hoopla of a new Haruki Murakami release, you may have come across a certain Murakami Bingo courtesy of Grant Snider. It is exactly what it sounds like, and it’s funny because it’s true,. . .