|
|
Shop at Amazon though these links and this site gets a kickback.
|
Priorities
It’s amazing what you can learn when you look at the referring links to your personal website. On Friday those very links helped me discover that Helen DeWitt took notice that we’re reading her book this fall, and I further learned that DeWitt is a prolific blogger.
And then I saw this post about two stories that DeWitt was assured would be published in Harper’s.
A long time ago I was invited to submit some short stories to Harper’s. The editor who wrote to me loved the 2 stories I sent in. She said the committee thought one was opaque but liked the other (Harley), though John Sullivan had one minor editorial comment.
She then wrote explaining that she was leaving Harper’s to concentrate on her own writing, but Sullivan would birddog the story. New verb to me, but OK.
Time passed. No word. I wrote. . . .
Sullivan explained that the story had been looked over by the committee who did not think it was right for Harper’s.
If you read on you’ll find that DeWitt was eventually told by Wyatt Mason that she was naive to think she’d land a story in Harper’s without an agent. Presumably an agent is something that Heidi Julavits has in spades, as her nonsense has landed in the August issue of Harper’s.
Occasionally Harper’s will publish a decent work of fiction from a worthy author (in the past year they’ve had Diane Williams and John Edgar Wideman), but for the most part the fiction in Harper’s is not that good. This helps explain why.
|
Recommended Books DeLillo's major work before White Noise is probably his most underrated novel. Its all right here--the politics of paranoia, terrorism, the unnamable--set in an evocative, timeless Greece.
The most bizarre Abe novel I've yet read, which is indeed saying something. About a subclass of Japanese men who go around wearing boxes from the waist up (and then use them as domiciles in the evening), the book is also an experiment in perspective shifts, a highly unstable, metafictional first-person narrative, and an exploration of voyeurism, consumerism, and aberrant sexuality.
Charting the path to three gunshots--the one that killed filmmaker Theo Van Gogh, the one that disabled his Islamic extremist assassin, Mohammed Bouyeri, and the one that led to Vincent Van Gogh’s one hundred years earlier--Olsen tells three separate stories that resonate with one another on numerous levels: the logic of extremism, the role of the dissident in Dutch society, the limits of tolerance, the purpose of the artist, the feeling of the most important five minutes of your life. Read my interview with the author.
Creatively structured, well-executed epic novel of rural South Africa from 1950 - 2000. Takes on a lot and lives up to it magnificently. Highly recommended.
A book that's an interview about the book you're supposedly holding in your hands. Creative, potent, and full of life. Just what metafiction should be. Read my post on it.
|
Er, I don’t think Wyatt meant that you had to have an agent to get published in Harper’s; I think his point was that you could not count on people to be efficient without an agent to chase them. That does often seem to be the case, though Deb Treisman at the New Yorker has always been a miracle of efficiency and I’ve never dealt with her through an agent.
That kind of reminds of the Paris Review controversy. Where someone’s work is accepted, only for a new editor to nix it.
I enjoyed Coover’s short story from a month ago, but overall I agree with your opinion on Harper’s.
I hope Ms. DeWitt continues to be a presence here, once we start her book!
Harper’s is rife with career, established authors. Robert Coover is a god, but typical of Harper’s choices. The Jualvits piece was a surprise to me, but I liked it, not a usual response from me for her. The larger problem lies in the limited choices of major journals/magazines that publish short stories – Harper’s, New Yorker, Atlantic Monthly, maybe Playboy. What else? A sad state of affairs for writers in the market.