Post-Thanksgiving

Though Jess and I didn't get to see our respective families for Thanksgiving, we had a great time with everyone at Nick and Allegra's, and we are grateful they invited us for what may be our last Richmond Thanksgiving ever. Lots of good food, amazing bourbon chocolate pie and cheesecake for dessert, and many kinds of booze and adult beverages.

It was a pretty awesome evening.

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Just got my contributor copies of American Literary Review, and it looks great and, I say this too often, has a great line-up of folks. They didn't update their website yet, but not only are future first book interviewees Jericho Brown and the omnipresent Seth Abramson in the issue, there's also Dana Curtis, Rachel Dilworth, Patrick Carrington, B.H. Fairchild, Richard Lyons, Jennifer Percy, David Wagoner, and Charles Wyatt, among others.
When I first got to VCU and was learning how to submit and buying subscriptions to magazines and journals, American Literary Review was one that blew me away. I thought it would take me many many submissions to get in, and somehow miraculously, it didn't. It's also one of my favorite poems of mine, so that makes it even better when the contributor copies arrive with such poems.

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A few days ago there was a chicken-scratched makeshift letter attached to the door of our apartment building. Jess and I have been making fun of it since then. When I went down to get the mail, I found someone had thrown it away, and it's too good not to share here:

Hi—

I live in Kensington Court (the big building across Shepherd) and a friend of mine is mailing me a very important package. However, she got my address wrong and put 3000 — — instead of 2900. She needs me to feed her birds so they don't starve to death while she is gone, so it's very important that I receive this package. My number is — — —. Please text me or call me and let me know when you get it. I will be at work for the rest of the day, but I will get back to you if you contact me. I get off work at 11:15 pm. This very urgent. Please help! Thank you!

Happy Thanksgiving!

— —

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Seriously? What the hell are those birds eating? Saffron and gold only from gold panning?

Anyway, I would've been nice enough to go ahead and text the guy or call him, but unless someone else did it in the building — and I think almost everyone's gone for the holidays — the package never arrived.

A day after it was still duct-taped to the door, someone put WTF? on the bottom in black magic marker.

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After years of wanting to watch the Stanley Kubrick documentary A Life in the Pictures that's always included in the now-always-revised-and-more-expensive-version of the box set, I finally got around to it, and at the very least it makes me want to write.

Kubrick was the opposite of the perpetually seemingly cocaine-snorting and if-not-filming-always-editing Rainer Werner Fassbinder. Though they're both legitimately heralded directors, I think it was interesting that Kubrick always wanted to be faster than he was. I think the cinema's better for how painstaking and beautiful his movies are, but I can see where he's coming from. And he seemed like a pretty warm and caring guy amidst the bearded exterior, always trying to get the most of his actors while always saying some pretty brilliant things. The kind of guy that seemed to make everyone smarter around him because of his work ethic and always striving to learn more and create better and more lasting images and films.

It's around two and a half hours, but it didn't feel like it at all, and I'd suggest seeing it, even if you're not a Kubrick fan, though I don't understand people who would say they are not.

First Book Interviews #7 and #8 - Morgan Lucas Schuldt and Jon Pineda

Just in time for the holidays.

#7 - Morgan Lucas Schuldt

#8 - Jon Pineda

I figured two of them would give everyone some reading material post Turkey Day.

Many more good ones on the way, so keep an eye out.

The next interviews will be up in two weeks.

Hope everyone has a good Thanksgiving.

Online Submissions Manager Faux Pas?

I recently found a downloadable file from a Submissions Manager of a journal I recently sent to -- via Google.

Yes, I Google my name every once in a while like everyone else does. Usually I'm able to find out what journals have been released via updated websites so I can gauge when I'll get contributor copies.

The said manuscript was withdrawn a few days ago, but I still feel a bit weird that it's technically public now I suppose, in older manuscript format.

And I was able to download the file. From the Internet. By clicking on that link.

Not a big deal really, but shouldn't Google not be reading these if they're from a Submissions Manager?

I imagine if I was looking for poets' work and that came up, I'd be curious enough to certainly click on it.

Did someone screw up?

Pretty weird, no?

The Giants are 10-1

In the past few days I got my contributor copies of Third Coast, American Poetry Journal, and Flyway. I forgot that's usually what happens in the later part of the fall or early winter. Not only that, but I think the subscribers are the folks who get theirs first, and then the contributor copies are sent out, which is something I need to remember.

Third Coast, as always, looks great and includes a great line-up of writers.

American Poetry Journal also looks great and includes a great line-up of writers.

In both of the aforementioned journals, Nick Courtright also has poems. Not only have we been in the same journals together, but a lot of the same issues in the past year or so. I told him I'm going to immediately send to every journal who accepts his work because of this previously unknown fact. Though I'm sure now that I actually know this, the rejections would come on full force. The poetry publishing world seems to be like that much of the time.

And Flyway, which seems to be a combination of I think three issues, oddly enough, almost looks as thick as Gulf Coast, but I don't think it's quite there yet. What I like about Flyway that I didn't know about the issue until I got it was, like Black Warrior Review, there's also a chapbook at the end of the issue, on different paper, which was a cool added bonus.

And Flyway sent two copies instead of one, which was great.

Hopefully I should be getting more contributor copies soon, and then I'll be reading over the holidays to catch up on everything I should be reading while I'm not.

Sometimes it's hard to believe that it's been over a year for some of these acceptances. It seems like just yesterday. And after the fact, the writers have it easy. Sometimes I don't think about all the hard work that goes into producing these issues, when you consider every aspect before it hits the printers, and in some cases, how many people have to work together to make it happen.

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I've said it before, but this has been one of the best years for ambient music in a while. Though that term is used broadly, I can't get into a lot of the more raucous and / or glitchy noise stuff, or haven't listened to anything that would bring repeated listens. That said, my definition of ambience is a bit different than other folks I suppose. And then what's the fine line with some of these ambient musicians and IDM or post rock? As long as it sounds good, I really don't care.

At any rate, the new Fennesz record, Black Sea, has been growing on me with every listen. I think it's his best solo work to date. There's plenty of glitch and atmosphere, but there seems to be more focus on the melodies, even if they're buried between weird guitar and computer manipulated sounds. A lot to discover with every listen. And as Venice seemed to be a summer record, Black Sea certainly seems right for the winter dreariness.

I'll probably have a separate best-of year-end list just for ambient / instrumental records, in addition to the regular list.

That's how good the year's been.

Speaking of, how about those G-MEN?

Playoffs? Certainly.

Anything more? We'll have to see what happens down the stretch...

Vicki

November seems to be my month. I think everyone who submits has one, though I probably jinxed the future Novembers. So seems it shall stay. Thanks to Josh and Michael at Grist, though, for taking a poem for their next issue, which I believe will be Grist's second. The website is really nice-looking and user-friendly, they post content from their issues on the site (which I always like to see from journals), and it seems like it'll be making its mark as the issues keep coming. The poem is an older one, though it's not that old I suppose. It's a poem I always debated putting in GHOST LIGHTS, so I may play around and see if it can fit somewhere.

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Also was able to snag the pilot of Eastbound and Down, which I think got picked up by HBO. I think it's the masterminds behind The Foot Fist Way, even though I thought that movie was highly overrated. A bit different and entertaining, yes, but I don't know if I'd watch it again. That said, I've been hearing great things about this pilot, so hopefully it's good, and hopefully it'll be on HBO soon.

It's like David Gordon Green was a spider meticulously caring for his egg sacks, and then they gave birth and just set fire to everything. So many directors, cinematographers, producers, and actors are now working in Hollywood and Los Angeles and other places across the country and are getting projects green lit because of his support and his influence and friendship. It's great to witness. Now Low and Behold needs to get released, which I've been wanting to see forever.

Please Be Great, Bowtie Cinemas

I had the pleasure of seeing some pretty inspiring movies in the last few days: Following Sean, Billy the Kid, and Local Color.

FOLLOWING SEAN is one of those documentaries that felt like a Jóhann Jóhannson composition, slowly building and becoming louder and more complex, until it suddenly ends and you're kind of overwhelmed by this hugeness in front of you. Maybe not all his works, but the best. I didn't know what I was watching at first or where I was going. There are tons of momentum shifts, time shifts, but everything feels right. It's linear a way, but you don't really know how it us or why it is until the end. It's really a film that creeps up from under you. I found it to be ultimately... filmed by someone with a beating heart, for one. A friend who was describing a poet recently said, "It doesn't feel like a human's behind the words; it feels like ghosts." So many poems feel like that, and some on purpose I suppose, but this was the complete opposite. It reminded me a bit of STONE READER in the sense of the quest, and of CAPTURING THE FRIEDMANS for its use of older footage, not originally sought out for use in the film. I felt I was a better person after seeing it. It sounds saccharine but it's true. It's a film that feels silly to even begin to describe, and if you don't get it you may turn it off. But it clicked for me. There's so much I could say about it, but I won't try. See it. Not only that, but I didn't know who Lori McKenna was, and her amazingly beautiful song, "Never Die Young," runs with the credits. Her voice reminds me a bit of Sally Ellyson from Hem, who also has one of the most amazing voices I've ever heard.

BILLY THE KID was a movie I'd seen a trailer for, and it didn't disappoint. It's basically about a kid who's a sophomore in high school and gets followed around by a camera. Again, the reviews were mixed, and I can see why, but ultimately I found it to be completely interesting. You can tell he's borderline genius with the things he says, and there were moments I wanted to be that age again. I think it's essentially a movie about young love, but through some alternate sense of anything most of us have ever known. He's not your average high school sophomore, and you can tell he's something special. It's another oddly inspiring movie by the end. I'm having a lot of trouble making any semblance of a connection with my own words, which is another reason it just needs to be viewed.

LOCAL COLOR, like SNOW ANGELS, is a script that could've been made into a shitty Lifetime movie in the wrong hands, and you may say it is, in fact, pretty much a Lifetime movie. I think despite the possibly maudlin and predictable nature, I found it all to be enjoyable because I seem naturally to compare all art to poetry: painting, music, fiction, everything. I think most poets are biased toward the notion that poetry can be found in everything, but no other art can singularly claim that as far as I'm concerned. I find myself relating to Trevor Morgan's character (who I saw something in in OFF THE BLACK, even though the movie was a watered-down -- with more narrative -- David Gordon Green flick, complete with stolen cinematographer Tim Orr): wanting to learn and knowing it may take a while to realize why I'm doing what I do. The script is predictable, but there's something I like about it so much, for all the reasons I won't be able to explain.

I don't know if this post makes any sense.

But I still feel like I not only have so much to learn, but there's so much I want to learn, before I get older and jaded and bad shit happens to the point where I don't want to think about art in the least. I hope that never happens, but unfortunately it does for some.

I've probably written about it before, but when Phil Levine was here my first semester at VCU a few years ago, he said, about Larry Levis, and I'm paraphrasing: "Even when he was going through awful things in life, he never stopped writing." I remember so much about that moment, even where people were sitting, people who I haven't seen since that hour in that room with no windows open.

I can't say anything else right now without sounding like someone who can't even tell you what time it is.

Chase Blackburn

I sometimes get to this point, at around 3 in the morning, and it feels like my body's passed the point of sleeping, as if I had the window when I could've and should've crashed, and I didn't.

Last time this happened I was up watching Snow Angels for the first time as the sun was rising and Jess's alarm was going off and she was getting ready to go to work.

But now it's because I'm trying to fill out Ph.D applications, trying to get applications in before the date of nullification mostly dealing with my GRE General Scores, and thankfully almost all of the schools I'm applying to are letting me submit my scores from November 2003. Only one said I couldn't even apply if I didn't take them again. So I didn't apply there.

Considering the time and money I'm spending on so much I didn't anticipate regarding everything application-esque, I think I made the right decision. I think my scores are fine.

I waited too long, I think, to get the recommendation forms and SASEs and everything else out to the kind and generous and influential professors recommending me. I hope they're not too annoyed with me. I just wanted everything to be set in stone, so there would be no questions and no screw-ups on my end. And everything with that now seems good to go, so in their mailboxes and in the mail everything will soon be.

I'm more nervous about the economy than I am about schools hating my work and all I stand for. I have more faith in my work and my drive and my work ethic and everything else than I ever did while applying to schools for my MFA. I just hope if any schools want me that they offer funding. If I can't get that, I can't go. It's pretty much as simple as that.

I don't know why I wrote a post about this. But it's here. I'm sure the real sense of trepidation will set in halfway through December, when the applications are out into the world and out of my hands.

And how good are the Giants looking?

It's pretty fantastic to be a Giants fan right now.

Weird way to end a post about Ph.D applications.

Nocturnal

Thanks to Trey and the folks at Front Porch for taking two poems.

This has been a weird week for me.

But I'm happy to know the work continues to find editors who like it.

They're part of the same "series," if you can call it that, with the Nocturnes. And I'm trying to expand upon that with some new photographic ekphrastic poems. I'm so sick of reading ekphrastic poems about paintings. Not sick of it, but it just seems too easy maybe, and expected.

I have a bunch of photographers I'm trying to cull through to find striking photos, most which I've seen in the past years and haven't forgot about. That's a good sign, to me, that a draft should be written. Usually fire is involved in the photos. That's no surprise to me or probably anyone else.

Jump in the Pool

I got an acceptance in the mail today from The Cincinnati Review, which I was thrilled about until I read that they wanted the poem Passages North previously accepted. I had emailed them, but this isn't the first time something like this has happened; sometimes emails get lost or deleted. I do keep good records, which is something on which I pride myself. None of the other poems in the batch have been accepted yet, so hopefully the editor will be willing to take a second look, since he did say he liked the rest of the poems too. If not, though, I'll keep sending. I like The Cincinnati Review a lot.

The thing is: the aforementioned poem I was thinking about ditching and not even putting in the batch I sent to those journals and others. It's a really weird and bizarre poem, and I thought maybe it didn't have a place to even be considered for submission. It clearly goes to show how much I know about my own work. Then again, I have a feeling the folks I trust with seeing drafts would've said, "What the hell is this?"

Then I got home from the store to a Hollins Critic e-mail acceptance, which was funny and welcomed considering the former events. It's also a newer Nocturne, if you can call it that, because I think most of the time I really don't know what a Nocturne is. But a semblance or seedling of a new manuscript I think keeps growing slowly, because I'm starting to recognize some similarities, and though the poems seem to be linked, they certainly don't belong in the first manuscript that's currently out all over the place at contests. I think that's a good sign. At least new poems are being written, and that's always a good thing.

At the store I was also greeted by a bigger guy who smiled at me and said hello. At first I was confused, but then I realized it was a guy who used to live mostly in the street near my old apartment a few years ago. He had these two vans and a car, and would always be working on them, and his car would be filled with empty Natural Light packages, and he'd usually be sitting in the front seat of the car if he wasn't working on the vans: batteries and wires and tools strewn all over the place. I always said hello to him when I was walking somewhere, and I can't believe he recognized me, but then again I end up recognizing people I don't even know and have never met at places like AWP, just from a photo on the back cover a book sometimes. I remember faces. Apparently he does too.

Spin the Bottle

Just got my contributor copy of the second issue of Makeout Creek today, and I have to say it looks great. Though the first issue looks great also, this one seems to have upped the ante. Everything about it seems more professional and physically tip-top, and there's some great photos, art, and of course writing within the pages. Bravo to the editors, especially Andrew, who I know work tirelessly on making this project what it's already become in a couple issues. Looking forward to what the upcoming issues bring. You should submit some stuff. They're not afraid of your trend-setting genre-bending either, so bring it on.

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RIP Mitch Mitchell

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I just realized that the first six First Book Interviews were all conducted with dudes.

Don't worry, there are some equally talented ladies making their appearances soon.

Also, if you know someone who'd be interested, or if you have a first book of poetry and you're interested in being interviewed, please let me know.

First Book Interviews #5 and #6 - Jason Bredle and Theodore Worozbyt

Here you go, folks:

#5 - Jason Bredle

#6 - Theodore Worozbyt

As always, more in the next couple of weeks.

Center Field

Last Thursday I meant to write a post about Victoria Chang's reading at VCU, but clearly I am not getting to it until now.

As an added bonus, Jon Pineda got a hold of me, and he, Jess, and myself all got dinner before the reading. Jon graduated from VCU with his MFA in poetry, and he also did a First Book Interview, which will be running a few weeks. We got to share VCU stories and talk about the trials and tribulations of publication. He's not only a very talented poet, but in a few years I think he'll start dominating the poetry world, which he's already starting to do.

Victoria's new book, SALVINIA MOLESTA, seems so easy on the surface, and I think that's why she's becoming another poet to really keep an eye on. Though it may be breaking some sacred rule of closing the eyes and taking in the words, I like to follow along with the actual text of the poems at readings if I can. It helps so I don't drift off, which is too easy to do for me, especially since Victoria's poems seem so natural. So I bought a copy and did just that.

And like I said, I don't know exactly what makes them seem so easy on the surface, but these are poems that really take many readings to get to the heart, and thankfully I can keep returning to them now that I have my copy.

But what I kept noticing out of the corner of my eye was all the undergrads around. There were some current VCU students and professors and alums around, but it's a bit sad to me when the majority of the room is all undergrads that are forced to go because their teacher is either forcing them directly, in addition to the obligatory two-page write-up about the reading, or they want the A, so the extra credit is too enticing not to just show up to the reading.

I say sad because about two poems in, most were doodling away, already off in some other world. I understand this. I've been to enough readings. But it's frustrating to see, and it probably always will be for me. That said, I've always compared poetry readings to a kind of concert. Someone seeing MUSIC FOR 18 MUSICIANS for the first time, not knowing Steve Reich's tendencies, not knowing anything about minimalism, might be swept away by, or they might be dulled by it, but even if it's the latter, knowing the work always enhances the experience.

And when there's nothing to listen to but the sound of the human voice, it's tough to get the audience involved. We all know that. Which is another reason why following along, if I can, always helps me and enhances the experience. Not only that, but you get a feel for a poet really having a foothold on how they read their work. For example: Victoria seems to end many lines with articles, which is something I don't see a lot of the time. Many of those lines, however, were broken by her voice not at the enjambment, but the natural rhythm of the caesura, almost always right before the end of the line or right after. So how she interprets her work isn't the way everyone else would interpret it as far as reading it aloud goes. Something to think about I suppose, for all of us reading our work aloud, especially when considering most of the audience won't be using a visual aid while listening.

I also made sure to talk to her about this previous post, the core of it which still fascinates me to no end: The different from poem publication in journals to book publication. How much freedom does one have? Or should one have? I told her that C. Dale Young -- who I think published one of the best in the book, "The Professor's Lover," in NER a few years ago -- commented, and some other folks did as well, so I asked her how she gauges those kind of changes. She basically told me that she's always working on her poems, even after they're published, and to her the publications in journals don't really matter, as far as the final product in the book goes. Makes a lot of sense.

But I think for younger, more inexperienced poets like myself, that can be a dangerous thing, in the sense that the focus could be on publish publish publish now and worry about your book later. But what if the book never comes? That said, I sincerely doubt someone who buys SALVINIA MOLESTA will have read every single poem in the particular journal where each poem was published. Also, isn't it dangerous to never publish because you're trying to chisel your poems to the precision of Michelangelo? Especially if you want to be in the poetry world of publishing and possibly teaching?

Anyway, it was a good reading, and Victoria, for how smart she is (she has degrees in many fields), seems really cool and down to earth. I'm glad I went, and I really need to kick myself in the ass when it comes to not missing readings and taking advantage of the opportunities I have to go to them.

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Yesterday, because I had submitted my manuscript to the T.S. Eliot Prize last year, I received Victoria Brockmeier's MY MAIDEN COWBOY NAMES in the mail.

Contrary to possibly popular belief, I think it's great to receive the winning book in the mail if you're not the contest winner. If I'm going to spend the $25 for the fee, why not have a book to show for it? If there are other folks who didn't win feeling the opposite, well, suck it up, or move on to something else.

I did find it funny, however, to see they had a little postcard-sized notification of this year's deadline. Keep in mind that I received the book yesterday, November 10th.

And the deadline states: "We value your support of the competition. The next deadline is October 31st, 2008."

Hmmm. I wonder if they lost some additional $25 checks because of the lateness. Then again, I'm sure they didn't want to rush the book's publication. But still.

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For those of you who are "friends" with Richard Siken on Facebook, he recently put up a few photos in a section he called, "How Is the New Book Coming Along?" Now I know I'm not the only one who thinks CRUSH is one of the best poetry books (not just first books) of the last five years or so, and it also had me thinking that among the duds of the Yale Younger Poets in the years since she took over (Say what you want, but there are many), there's hope that she may pick another book this great.

But above all, that means Richard Siken is working on a new book. And that excites me to no end. I'm not sure if he can one-up CRUSH, but regardless, I'll be pre-ordering it as soon as I can, even though it's in the "spread out all over the floor in weird patterns with lots of things highlighted and crossed out" stage, which you can see from the photos.

But in-the-works and Richard Siken equals a pretty killed one-two punch as far as I'm concerned.

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I posted probably around a month ago a conversation I had with a secretary at a certain school to which I'd hoped to apply.

After about a month -- a month -- of calling, emailing, and bugging them, I finally got an answer. I can apply. It took a month for them to get around to basically letting me know the answer in about 180 seconds.

I'm not sure I discussed it, but there was a possible snafu with my General GRE scores with some schools, and it turns out that they're fine, thankfully. I don't have to take them again, which will save me a good deal of time and money when all is said and done.

So aside from all the ridiculousness of the last month with practically doing everything but driving up to the English department in the program a few states away, I finally got a positive answer.

Despite many people saying, "Just cross them off the list..." I'm persistent, maybe sometimes too persistent, but myself and others also held the school up pretty high, so I'm glad they'll be able to consider me, even if they end up saying no.

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Two new live records of interest, both recorded live at The Triple Door in Seattle, and both very different musicians, both for whom I have a great affinity: Greg Dulli and Helios.

The Helios record sounds amazing. I don't know how he got it sound that good. I'm pretty sure the drum machine tracks are set up and he's playing guitar over everything, but he may have a keyboard too. Songs spanning across the board from his albums, and sometimes some beautiful improvisation. I've already been listening to it like crazy.

And Dulli's record is more intimate than AMBER HEADLIGHTS -- his only official solo record, scrapped after Ted Demme unfortunately passed away, and then reluctantly released after the persistence of so many fans like myself -- with a lot of covers, and some recently recorded Twilight Singers stuff, some from POWDER BURNS (one of my favorite records of the last five years) stripped down with mainly guitar and piano and strings.

They're both great. I can't believe how many amazing records continue to come out, seemingly exponentially, each year. I couldn't live without music.

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Finally, there will be two new First Book Interviews posted tonight. I'll keep you in suspense for now, but I'll post them and post the update here when they're live.

Also, I got about six new interviews out to poets yesterday, with more books coming in, more questions being generated, and more interviews going out.

So get excited.

Cleaning & Searching

I think about a month ago I posted something about all the journals I've collected in the last four years. Most of the room in the hall closet is taken up by those journals. And as I was going through them, I was thinking to myself, "Wow, online maybe is the way to go." Could we ever see Paris Review, Crazyhorse, Gettysburg Review, Kenyon Review, etc. go strictly online? Both submissions and publication? I just don't have the room.

I'm going to call the local libraries and see if they'd be willing to take them to possibly sell in a book sale. They're all in mint or near-mint condition, and frankly, most I'm not going to read anymore. And I know that if I were new to the scene, with reading journals being an important first step (at least I thought it was and will always think it will be) in the possibly of ever trying to get my work out there in the few hands of folks who will actually read it, I would be picking up tons of these for a few bucks a piece or less. I don't want to see them in a landfill, but I can't justify keeping rows upon rows of journals on my bookshelves. So I hope they find good homes once I get the ball rolling.

Another scare today was almost not being able to locate my 25-page Philip Larkin A-paper that I wrote a few years ago at VCU. Most of the schools I'm applying to are asking for around a 20-page critical sample, and since my laptop all but blew up on me about a year and a half ago, the sometimes idiot I am came through: I didn't have it saved anywhere. So all I had was the original copy, and I made sure to have it with me during the movie in August 2008. Jess and I looked through boxes and boxes of papers, old rejections, old syllabi, etc. and couldn't find it.

Then I checked on the bookshelf, and low and behold, crumpled and crammed into David Perkins' ENGLISH ROMANTIC WRITERS, was my essay, and I could breathe easier again.

I did a massive 38-pager on Coleridge and Stevens about a year after the aforementioned essay was written, but it was a mess, and seriously needed to be revised. Since it's now officially November, and time's not slowing for the deadlines in a few months, it was imperative that I find the words of Mr. Larkin.

And even though I have to transcribe it again, I can improve it along the way, and my headache will not even make an appearance.

And these journals will finally get boxed up and into the hands of new aspiring writers who can hopefully find some flashes of inspiration within their pages.

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As a little addendum, I wanted to point out posts by both Blake Butler and Shane Jones about the process of finding homes for their novels. Even though I'm not shopping out a novel myself, they're extremely honest and informative, so check it out if you have any kind of interest in such a thing.