Literary Prizes

WHERE: Videology Bar and Cinema - 308 Bedford Ave, Brooklyn, New York 11249 WHEN: Thursday, November 10th at 7:00pm Tickets
I was at a dinner of publishing professionals recently when a book came up that I said I hadn't enjoyed. The response was: "It won the Pulitzer."
Every year since 2004 the Library of Michigan has publicized as many as 20 Notable Michigan books "reflective of Michigan's diverse ethnic, historical, literary, and cultural experience."
Elizabeth Strout's new novel, My Name is Lucie Barton, returns to the mother-daughter turf of her debut, Amy and Isabelle, published a decade and a half ago.
(You can see all of the charts on Griffith's blog.) As the VIDA count has effectively demonstrated over the past few years
Paul Burston, the creator of the Polari Literary Salon in London, has, through sheer charm, hard work and diligence, transformed the possibilities of what a literary event should be: a space crackling with energy, ideas, excitement, raucousness and just plain ole fun.
But each of us is given a unique thread, a point-of-view, a message to contribute to the story of humankind. Somewhere deep down, we know what it is, but we sell out for one reason or another.
In reality, neither of the two categories of writers necessarily deserve the distinction of being better writers. Different writers is a better word choice.
Two books positively straining at their bindings are in your local bookstore right now; pick them up, and you'll be glad you did.
Alice Munro's writing, like all great writing, teaches us to be human. It engages big questions in small spaces: What does it mean to be regional? What does it mean to be Canadian? What does it mean to be a mother? What does it mean to be betrayed?