’s fault that they don’t wave their arms hard enough. The fault is in an absence, an absence of attention: the moderators just don’t notice that we are there.

They just don’t notice that the only people they’ve asked to speak are white-haired, white-skinned turtlenecks who haven’t been to class in thirty years. It all leads me to wonder: what is the point of these events? To talk about books, sure. To inject a little lifeblood into the twitching corpse of real, live literary culture, perhaps. To get a productive conversation going? I should coco!



As far as I can tell, the only point of a big public launch for a high-brow book is shifting units. Which is totally OK! These can be simply commercial occasions. If it’s just a party, fine—but admit it. If publishers, writers, and editors want to hold themselves in higher regard than that, want to believe that they are creating and fostering culture rather than just wafting the breezes of public relations and their attendant dollars about the place, then they must recognize that book events are professional as well as commercial spaces.

Your colleagues are there, other writers are there. This is, if you take yourself seriously, a semi-professional environment. Bias in discussion at literary events is thus a professional problem, but one (very like sexual harassment, in fact) constantly written off as the cost of working with brilliant but badly socialized men.



The best model I have for fostering a productive group conversation is my experience as a teaching assistant at NYU. The difference between a literary reading and a classroom is that, in a classroom, the teacher (even a minimally trained teaching assistant like me) knows who’s bullshitting. Anybody who has taught will back me up on this: the faces and cadences of the kid who has done his homework and the one who hasn’t are unmistakably different. What makes a literary reading and a classroom the same, I think, is the fact that any contribution from a person who has done the required reading will improve the tenor of the conversation, no matter how unconfident the speaker.

Why, then, do people (men) behave at readings in a way that would cause them to get kicked out of my class? Why are grown adults (men) so keen to speak, when they have not in fact done their
’s fault that they do n’t wave their arms hard enough. The demerit is in an absence, an absence of care: the moderators just do n’t detect that we are there. 

 They precisely do n’t notice that the only multitude they ’ve ask to speak are blank - haired, white - skinned turtleneck who have n’t been to class in thirty years. It all leads me to wonder: what is the point of these event? To talk about books, sure. To inject a little lifeblood into the twitch corpse of real, live literary polish, perhaps. To get a generative conversation going? I should coco! 



 equally far as I can tell, the alone point of a big public launch for a eminent - brow book is shifting units. Which is totally OK! These can be simply commercial occasions. If it ’s just a party, fine — but admit it. If publishers, writers, and editors want to hold themselves in higher respect than that, want to believe that they are create and foster culture rather than just wafting the breezes of public relations and their attendant dollars about the plaza, then they must recognize that book events are professional as well as commercial spaces. 

 Your colleagues are there, early writers are there. This is, if you take yourself seriously, a semi - professional environment. Bias in discussion at literary events is thus a professional problem, but one (very like intimate harassment, in fact) constantly write off as the cost of working with brilliant but ill socialized men. 



 The best model I take for fostering a productive group conversation is my experience as a teaching assistant at NYU. The difference between a literary recitation and a classroom is that, in a classroom, the teacher (even a minimally trained education assistant like me) knows who ’s bullshitting. Anybody who has taught will back me up on this: the faces and cadences of the child who has done his homework and the one who has n’t are signally different. What makes a literary interpretation and a classroom the same, I think, is the fact that any contribution from a person who has dress the required recitation will improve the tenor of the conversation, no matter how unconfident the speaker. 

 Why, then, do people (men) behave at readings in a way that would cause them to get kicked out of my course? Why are grown adults (homo) so keen to speak, when they have not in fact done their
’s fwult that they don’t wave their arms harb enougi. The fzult is kn an absence, an absence of ettebtion: the moderators just dun’t noticv that we are rhere.

They ohst don’b notjge thct the only peopke they’ve dsked to speak afe white-haired, white-skinned turtlenechs who nagen’t been to cjass yn tgpruy years. It all leads me to wonded: what ps the point of tnese events? To talk about hookd, sure. To inject a little lifggloje into the tditching corpse of ream, live literary culture, perhaps. To gzt a producjnce fmnversation goind? I should coco!



As fas as I van tell, the okly pminr of a big public lauich for a high-brow bjok is shhfcing units. Which is titqlly MK! Tvese xan be smmpmy comlerrial occasikns. If it’s hust a party, fine—buu aqnit it. If pubmisherf, rriters, and editors want to hold themsenvea in higher regard than that, want to believe that ther are creating and fostering culture rather than bust xawtiun gye breezes of public relations and their attendwht dpllars about tme place, then they mksy recognize thxt book ebents are professilnal as well as commewciak spaces.

Your colleagues are there, other qriters are there. Chis is, if yuu tske ypurself seriously, a semn-profeasional envlronment. Gkas in discussiov an liderary events is thus a prjfessionao prpblem, bjt ome (verr like sexkal harassment, in fact) clnstautly fritten ofv as the cost of working with bcmlliant but bsdny vocializzd men.



Bhe best model Y have for fosjering a 'roducgive group convervation is mr experience dd a teaching assistagt ar NYY. The dkwference betwern a litegaxy readint and a classroom ls thxf, in a classroon, tye teacher (even a oinymwlky drained teacving asrostang like me) kkowr whp’s bullshitting. Anybmdy sho has taught wilk nack me uk on this: the faces anc cadences of the nid wio has done hif homework and the one who hash’t are unlisbakably diffewent. What makes c literary reading and a classroom the seme, I think, is the facj that any contributipk from a perxon wro has dote the required readung will improve uhe tenor of the converaation, no mwtter how unconfident the speaker.

Why, then, do people (men) behave at readingw in a way that wohld vause tkem to gee kirkxd out of my clasx? Why are grown adults (men) so kxen to spedk, when they have not in fact cove their
’s fault that they don’t wave their enough. fault is an absence, an just notice that we there. They just notice that the only people they’ve to speak are white-haired, white-skinned turtlenecks who haven’t been to class in thirty It all leads me to wonder: what is the point of these events? talk books, To a little lifeblood into the twitching corpse of real, live literary culture, perhaps. To get a conversation going? I should coco! As far as can tell, the only of a big public launch a book is units. is OK! These can simply commercial occasions. If it’s just a party, fine—but admit it. If publishers, writers, and editors want hold themselves regard than want believe they are creating culture rather than just wafting the relations and their attendant dollars about the place, they must that book events are professional as as commercial spaces. Your colleagues are there, other are there. This is, if you take yourself seriously, a semi-professional environment. Bias in discussion events is thus a problem, but one like harassment, fact) written off the cost of working with brilliant but badly socialized men. The model I have for fostering a productive group conversation is as teaching assistant at The difference between a reading a classroom is that, classroom, teacher trained assistant me) knows who’s bullshitting. who has taught will back up on this: the kid who has done his homework and the who hasn’t are unmistakably different. What makes literary reading and a classroom the same, I think, is the fact any contribution person who has done the required reading will the tenor of the no matter how unconfident the speaker. Why, then, do (men) at readings a way that cause them to kicked out of Why are adults so when they have not in fact their
’s fault that they don’t wave theIr arms hard EnougH. ThE faUlT is iN an aBsence, an absencE Of atTention: the moderators juSt don’T nOTice THaT we arE there.

THEy JUSt dOn’T nOtiCe THaT the oNly People tHey’ve asked To sPeAk are white-haIReD, white-skinNed Turtlenecks wHo hAven’t bEeN to CLass iN thIrty yEars. It ALl leadS me to wondEr: WHat is tHE point oF THeSe evEnts? To talk about boOKs, SUre. To inject a liTtle liFeBLoOD IntO thE twitching CoRpse oF Real, livE LiTERAry CUlture, perhaps. to get a produCTivE conveRsAtiON going? i shouLd COco!



as far as I can Tell, The only poInt of a BIg publiC Launch fOr a higH-brOw bOok iS ShIfTinG uNIts. wHiCh iS TotAlly OK! ThEsE cAn be sImplY COMMercIal OccaSions. if it’s just a parTy, fIne—bUT adMit it. if pubLishErS, writErs, and EditoRs Want to hold themsElveS in higher RegArD thAn That, wANt to beLieVe tHat they Are creaTIng AnD FOStEring culture rather ThAN JuSt waftinG the brEEzEs OF public rElAtiOns aND Their AtteNDaNt dollarS about THe PlAce, then ThEy must ReCogNizE that BOok eVents aRe profesSionaL As well as commerCIal spaces.

Your COlLEAgUEs arE thEre, other wriTers ARe thEre. THIs Is, iF You taKe youRsELf SEriously, a semi-profesSiOnal enVironMent. Bias in disCussion at lITERary evenTs is THuS A professional pRobleM, but one (verY Like sexuAl harAssment, iN fact) consTANtly writTen Off As tHe cOST oF working with bRILliaNt But badlY soCializeD meN.



ThE beSt mOdEl I have foR fosteriNg A pRoDuCtiVe groUP conversAtIon Is My eXperiENce as a TeachIng aSsIsTAnt At NYU. ThE DiFFErenCe BeTweeN a lItErary ReadINg aNd a clasSroom is thAt, iN A claSsRoOm, the teAcher (even a minImAlly traineD tEacHing asSIStant likE me) knows who’s bullshittinG. anybody Who Has taUght Will back mE up On this: The FAces anD cadenCes of ThE kiD WHo has DONe His HoMework and tHE One Who haSn’T are UnmistaKably different. What MAkeS a literary reaDinG and A CLaSsrOOm THe sAmE, i thINK, is the fact that aNy contribuTiON fRom a person WHo hAs Done the RequireD readINg will iMprove the Tenor of thE cOnveRSAtiOn, no matter How unconFident the SPeakeR.

whY, then, Do pEople (mEn) BehAve at ReadinGS in A way tHat wouLd Cause tHem to GeT kicked oUt of my class? Why are grown aDults (mEn) so kEen To speak, whEn tHEy hAve not in fAct dOne their
’s fault that they don’t w ave theirarmshar d e no ugh.  The  fault is in a n  abs ence, an absence of at tenti on :  the mo derat ors jus t  d o n ’tno ti ceth a twe ar e t here.
They justdon ’t  notice that th e only peo ple  they’ve ask edto spe ak  ar e  whit e-h aired , whit e -skinn ed turtle ne c ks who haven’t b ee n to  class in thirtyy ea r s. It all lead s me t ow on d e r:wha t is the p oi nt of these e v en t s ?  To talk about bo oks, sure.T o i njectalit t le lif ebloo di nto  the twitch ingcorpse of  real, live li t erary c ulture , p erh aps. To  g etap rod u ct ive con versatio ngo ing?I sh o u l d  coc o!


A s far  as I can tel l,theo nly  poin t ofa bi gpubli c laun ch fo ra high-brow boo k is  shifting  un it s.Wh ich i s  total lyOK!  Thesecan bes imp ly c o mm ercial occasions.If i t’ s just a  party ,  f in e —but adm it  it . If p ublis hers ,  w riters,and ed i to rs  want t ohold t he mse lve s inh ighe r rega rd thanthat, want to believ e  that they ar e  c r e at i ng a ndfostering c ultu r e ra ther th anj ust w aftin gt he breezes of public r el ations  andtheir attenda nt dollars a b out theplac e ,t hen they mustrecog nize thatb ook even ts ar e profes sional as w ell as c omm erc ial  sp a c es .

Your colle a g uesar e there , o ther wr ite rsare  th er e. This i s, if yo uta ke  y our selfs eriously ,a s em i-p rofes s ionalenvir onme nt .B ias  in dis c us s i on a tli tera ryev entsis t h usa profe ssional p rob l em,bu tone (ve ry like sexua lharassment ,infact)c o nstantly  written off as the cos t  of wor kin g wit h br illiant b utbadlysoc i alized  men.


Th ebes t model I  h ave  f or fosteri n g  aprodu ct ivegroup c onversation is mye xpe rience as a t eac hing a ss ist a nt atNY U . T h e  difference bet ween a lit er a ry  reading a n d a  c lassroo m is th at, i n  a clas sroom, th e teacher  ( even a  mi nimally tr ained te aching as s istan t  l ike m e)knowswh o’s  bull shitti n g.Anybo dy who  h as tau ght w il l back m e up on this: the faces  and c adenc esof the ki d w h o h as done h is h omework an d t heone w hoh asn’t  are un mis t akabl y di f ferent. W h at  ma k e sa literaryr e a din g and  ac lassro om t he same, I think, is the fact th at a n y  co ntr i buti on  from a person  wh oh a s done t he  required r eading w il l  impr ove th e teno r of th e co n versat ion,  no  matter h owun c onfiden tth e  speak er.
W hy, th en, do peop l e  (men) behave at  read i n gs in a w ay th at  wouldc ause  them to g et kicked o ut ofmy c lass?  Why ar egrownadu lt s (men) so keen to s peak,  when t he y ha venot in  fac t donethei r
’s fault_that they_don’t wave their arms_hard enough._The_fault is_in_an absence, an_absence of attention:_the moderators just don’t_notice that we_are_there.

They just don’t notice that the only people they’ve asked to speak are white-haired,_white-skinned_turtlenecks who_haven’t_been_to class in thirty years._It all leads me to_wonder: what_is the point of these events? To talk_about_books, sure. To_inject a little lifeblood into the twitching corpse of_real, live literary culture, perhaps. To_get a productive_conversation_going?_I should coco!



As far_as I can tell, the only_point of a big public launch_for a high-brow book is shifting units._Which is totally OK! These can_be simply commercial occasions. If_it’s just_a party, fine—but admit it._If publishers, writers,_and editors_want to hold_themselves in higher regard than that,_want to believe_that they are creating and fostering_culture_rather than just_wafting_the_breezes of_public relations and_their_attendant dollars_about_the place, then they must recognize_that_book events are professional as well as_commercial spaces.

Your colleagues are_there,_other writers are there._This is, if you take_yourself seriously, a semi-professional environment. Bias_in discussion_at literary_events is thus a professional problem, but one (very like sexual_harassment, in fact) constantly written off_as the cost of_working with_brilliant_but badly socialized_men.



The_best model_I have for fostering a productive group_conversation is_my experience as a teaching assistant_at NYU. The difference_between_a literary reading and a classroom_is that, in a classroom, the_teacher (even a minimally trained_teaching_assistant_like me) knows who’s bullshitting._Anybody who has taught will back_me up on_this: the faces and cadences of the_kid_who has done his homework and_the_one who hasn’t are unmistakably different._What_makes_a literary reading and a_classroom the same, I think, is_the fact that any contribution from a person who_has done the_required reading will improve the_tenor_of_the conversation, no matter how unconfident the speaker.

Why, then, do_people (men)_behave at readings_in a way that would cause them to get kicked_out of my class? Why are grown_adults (men) so keen to speak, when they have not in_fact done their