A Note From Ben Percy
If
you fell from the sky and landed on any street corner in this country,
you would not know where you were, lost in the concrete maze of Taco
Johns, Burger Kings, Best Buys, K-Marts, Wal-Marts. Sometimes I feel
similarly adrift and headachey when wandering a chain bookstore, where
the same two dozen authors stare out at me from slick dust jackets, where short story collections
are difficult if not impossible to find, where novels are weighed down
with codes and techno-jargon and brand-name clothes and throbbing
euphemisms, where literature sometimes feels as substantial as a Big
Mac and fries.
Which
is why Dzanc comes as a welcome shot of adrenaline to the heart. It is
a publishing venture that transcends the bottom-line, that trumpets
what the big houses have crassly elbowed aside, that reminds us reading
is more than entertainment, that books are more than commodities. Their
standard is bad-ass literary excellence, no matter if it can't be
tidily packaged or pitched by some agent at a cocktail party where
everybody wears black and none of the cheese is yellow. If you look at
their line-up of emerging and established rock stars -Yannick Murphy,
Terese Svoboda
, Kyle Minor, Roy Kesey, Laura van den Berg, and Michael Czyzniejewski, to name a few-it's quite clear that Dzanc is a force.
Folks,
we're talking about a homegrown wonder, something to applaud, a bit of
a miracle. I'm not at all surprised, but I'm heartened, that Publishers Weekly called Dzanc the future of publishing; the industry should be so lucky. Join me in supporting them. Or else.
Sincerely,
Benjamin Percy |
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