Yes, the spilled blood of my time is here coagulated for your linking pleasure…
- French teen, doing the evil work of fan translation, will not be sued by Harry Potter pubs — don’t mistake this for a second, it’s not grace or even noblesse oblige, but rather the simple fear of bad press
- Indian and Pakistani writing examined around the anniversary of independence (which coincided with the spike in grad students studying post-colonialblahblahblagh — and you know what they say, every spike in grad students is a nail in the coffin of literature. Okay, “they” don’t say that, I do. But you get my point.) So, why did Indian writing catch on and Pakistani not?
- Joyce Carol Oates, profiled
- Norman Mailer, interviewed
- New sleezebags line up to take crack at OJ’s If I Did It — everyone involved in this deserves to end up like the Carter expedition…
- Bob Hoover on the enduring ridiculousness of literary prizes: “By its thoroughly political, haphazard and self-congratulatory nature, the awards industry has tried to turn writers and artists into performing seals, groomed and prepped for the cameras.” My rebuttal? “Orp orp orporp, orporp, orp orp orp.” And don’t you forget it.
- Follow that with a piece on the rising fortunes of the Carnegie Medal
- And follow that with a piece on the changing nature of children’s play
- World War 2.0 — the latest trend in publishing… I love how they already “know” what we’ll be reading for the next decade. Either laughably stupid or scary. Maybe both, like most other things these days. Meeeah!
- Making it everywhere but at home… hm…