Utne reprints VQR, Time marks our founding, and readers turn a recent blog entry into poems.
The references to suicide in Wallace’s work have been made more potent by his own suicide, but it is a mistake to excise such passages.
In a world that fetishizes speed, the act of reading a long novel feels almost perverse. But perhaps longness is what we need most these days.
Micropayments, raising subscription rates, poets reading online, and more.
Evidence of anti-gay bias by Amazon has snowballed at an impressive rate, but now it’s time to give the company the time to respond.
The short-story-collection-as-debut-work has a lot of possibility, heightened by the prospect of buying a short story on your Kindle for a dollar.
How different are the teen vampire romance novels from Dickens’ work?
How can a game—so simple on its face—be the subject of so much fantastic, engrossing, downright smart literature?
An elegant cover lifts the book out of the ghetto of a thing produced into the rarified realm of something crafted.
Sony one-ups Amazon, Clay Shirky talks crazy, Robert Irwin gets recognized, and Gawker finds time to dis VQR.
