BLOODBATH!!! at Parlor NY for Electric Lit’s Recommended Reading Launch Party

Last night, we celebrated the launch of our most recent baby, Electric Literature’s Recommended Reading, at Parlor New York in SoHo. In case you’re unaware, Recommended Reading is free, digital content that will come to subscribers weekly. For each week of the month, a new story is selected: the first, by our staff (the first issue features a new story by Ben Marcus); the second, by an indie press like Akashic or New Directions; the third, by an established writer such as Jim Shepard; and the fourth, will come from a literary magazine’s — such as One Story or Tin House – archives.

Parlor New York is a chic, black-walled, members-only nightclub and was a great venue for the evening. As one party attendee told me, “It reminds me of my mother’s place.” I asked him what his mother did for a living, thinking he’d say she was an art curator or psychologist or something else that made her ‘edgy’ and maybe a little ‘neurotic.’ But no– “She’s a middle school lunch lady,” he replied. When I arrived a little after 8, the room with the bar was already packed, and the DJ was spinning ’70s era sexy disco. The crowd was swilling whiskey, because we at EL are very pro-whiskey, and also because the party was sponsored by Tullamore Dew (coincidence? I think not!).

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Ivyland Release Party at Brooklyn Brewery

1. Do you wish this pic had more girls in it? Scoot on over to picturesofgirlswithivyland.tumblr.com. Because yes, that exists.  2. Freelancer Dylan Harvey, who looks a little like Paul Dano (I’m not obsessed), and Lucas Jones, who provided that Tumblr tip (Thanks Lucas!).

 

The last time I was at Brooklyn Brewery was Santacon 2010. That was not a particularly bright moment in the life of Kai, so it felt right to break the spell with a lit event (basically, anti-Santacon). The event was this week’s release party for Miles Klee’s debut novel Ivyland, which has already racked up big praise from the likes of Jim Shepard, Andrea Barrett, and Justin Taylor.

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Adam Wilson’s Flatscreen Launch at BookCourt

1. Paul Dano was there! Be still my heart! I mean, Paul Dano was there, he’s the star of the Flatscreen book trailer and some other things. NBD. 2. There were dumplings, which made everyone wonder why all lit events don’t have dumplings.

 

It’s Adam Wilson week at The Outlet! Or maybe it’s Adam Wilson week in New York, or the universe, and we’re just trying to keep up. The number of people that turned out for the launch of Wilson’s debut novel Flatscreen at BookCourt corroborates the theory.

When you’re covering an event for Electric Dish, there are a couple things you hope not to find on arrival. Dingy lighting (bad photos). Ill-stocked bar. Or, in the case of this well-lit, wine-river party, a room so crowded that one step in any direction is a move into someone’s discomfort zone. It’s precarious for us, but it’s downright great — and a reflection of your greatness — if you’re the one whose week in the universe it is.

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Paris Review Winter Issue Release Party

1. Reader Tim Ruddy tames the crowd. 2. PR trifecta: managing editor Nicole Rudick, admirer (and architect) Katy Barkan, and intern Emma Gallwey.

 

The Paris Review is nothing if not reliable. Last year, they released their winter issue with a no-nonsense, no-reading holiday party at their own headquarters. This year, they moved the thing to McNally Jackson for a no-nonsense program, followed by an equally serious after-party at nearby bar Sweet and Vicious.

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Carmela Ciuraru in conversation with Andy Hunter

1. Evidence: Andy and (Russell) Brandy. 2. Andy and Carmela announcing the winners of the pseudonym contest.

There’s some college nostalgia going around in this July heat. First, I’m trying to figure out what to do with Google+ like I was trying to figure out what to do with Facebook freshman year. Then, someone sent me this unprompted, and if that doesn’t make you yearn for a Bud Light purchased with your old fake ID, then move along and pay no heed to the misty-eyed Outlet contributor on your way. Finally, capping this month on Lake Wobegon’s campus, Carmela Ciuraru and Andy Hunter sent me, along with a standing room-only crowd, back to the classroom (in a good way) last Wednesday.


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A Voyage to Franklin Park

1. The Outlet’s own Julia Jackson takes a night off to read at Franklin Park. 2. Emcee and Franklin Park reading series creator Penina Roth.

You can’t be in two places at once, or in Julia Jackson’s case, you can’t be in one place and do two things at once. Miss Jackson is The Outlet’s longest-standing and most dedicated coverer of Franklin Park’s monthly reading series, but on Monday she became the covered, as one of their featured readers.  The theme of the night was travel and voyages (or something like that, I lost my program) and wayward wanderers came from near (Crown Heights) and far (New Jersey) to bask in the incredible heat of a crowded room in July.

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Second Annual Moby Awards

1. The crowd gathered at powerHouse Arena for the 2011 Moby Awards. 2. Man about town Brendan Sullivan, a.k.a. DJ Vh1

Typical literary award event: nominated authors read, host lavishes nominated authors with praise, winner/s announced, grand after party, general lauding of winner/s and losers alike, cash and bio-addition prize. Last Thursday’s event: no one read, the host was relieved to find that many of the winners were not present, after nothing, general lauding of a plush toy horse named Bashful, and plastic spray painted whales for prizes. Welcome to the second annual Moby Awards.

Orchestrated and bestowed by Melville House, the Moby Awards are dedicated to the best and worst book trailers of the year. Book trailers: aptly named, often less aptly conceived. An entire awards ceremony devoted to them was really a welcome opportunity to laugh at this mad, mad literary world in which we live.

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The Milan Review of Ghosts Launch Party

1. The stadium seating crowd, with FSG staffers Dan and Mark enjoying the free Asahi in the middle row. 2. Tim Small shows off his creation.

The powerHouse Arena is no Standard Hotel rooftop, but it was quite the right venue for last night’s intimate launch party for The Milan Review, created and imported by Tim Small and Riccardo Trotta, the editor and production manager, respectively, of VICE Magazine’s Italian operation.  The inaugural edition is The Milan Review of Ghosts, and each biannual issue will be dedicated to the review of another worldly or otherworldly thing.  It’s unclear if the format will change too, but I hope it doesn’t because the Review’s first run built to withstand abuse of a book toted deep within a New York handbag: hardbound, and a lovely size and weight.

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Debutante Ball

1. Five debutantes and eligible bachelors all in a row. 2. Dani Shapiro accepts the Mentorship Award.

One afternoon tea after Kate Middleton became the Duchess of Cambridge, five writers put on their finest digs to be announced to the literary world as the bright young stars they are. The event was One Story’s Literary Debutante Ball, billed on its program as “A Celebration of Emerging Writers.” Really, it was a fancy, boozy party and the writers—judging by the rowdy applause—are more ‘emerged’ than ‘emerging.’ The venue was the Invisible Dog Art Center in Boerum Hill, a restored warehouse with one 8,000-pound capacity freight elevator that moved guests from the ground floor to the party upstairs.

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FSG does Robert Pinsky + Paul Muldoon at Russian Samovar

1. Abby Deutsch, Andrew Flynn, Daniel Wenger, and Alexander Fabry. Alex is with Art.sy, the “Pandora for art” start up. 2. Paul Muldoon reads.

One would have been enough. Either Robert Pinsky or Paul Muldoon would have drawn a standing room only crowd to the top floor of the Russian Samovar, but FSG—sticking it to the man who sets fire code—brought both poets on Wednesday night as part of their regular reading series. Every seat was taken early and anyone less than on time (including yours truly) took a leaning post instead. I found a banister, but others found the bar, which was conveniently manned. And because this was the Russian Samovar, the only offering was a dozen-bottle rainbow of infused vodkas.

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