Our mission is to publish and produce art that is intellectually, culturally and environmentally sustainable.

Since January 2011 Jaded Ibis has gained national attention for its innovative business model and intrepid explorations into the newest digital technologies, from interactive multimedia iBooks to the app-novel and beyond. We’re most interested in what literary art can be in the 21st Century, not merely what it is. Jaded Ibis Press, its editors and authors have been the subject of feature articles and interviews in Poets & Writers, The Brooklyn Rail, Forbes, Lit Bridge, Possible Architects, Lambda Literary, American Book Review, and many other print and online publications. Our books have made a number of “Best” lists, including four of Oprah magazine’s.

Jaded Ibis Press creatively uses Print-On-Demand (POD) services to reduce our carbon footprint and alleviate some of the massive environmental waste produced by the publishing industry. Our projects typically manifest in multiple editions: full-color illustrated print; black and white print; ebook and/or interactive multimedia book; and fine art limited edition. Each title includes visual art created by a notable artist or artists. Fine art editions incorporate a variety of materials and conceptually reflect the content of the book. Jaded Ibis Productions also produces a CD compilation of music created for the previous 10-12 book titles by renowned and emerging musicians. Our first CD LP, Edible Flowers, is available for download on iTunes, Rhapsody, Sony Music, Napster, and hundreds of music sites throughout the world.

Jaded Ibis publishes books that do not easily fit into marketing categories but clearly speak to contemporary society. We promote the evolution of narrative as it intersects with 21st Century technology. As a result, our books appear on college syllabi with increasing frequency, and our editors and authors are invited to lecture on current and future narrative forms. Contact us to book a lecture, literary reading, panel or workshop.

Jaded Ibis Press enthusiastically seeks projects that utilize digital platforms as an integral part of the narrative, and multimodal projects that cannot be effectively published as anything except multimedia, interactive narratives. We keep current on “future” technologies like Brain Computer Interface and Real Time Interactive Simulation gaming that may significantly affect literary art and other intellectual narratives.

The technology has been helping quite a lot in all the fields, be it in medicine, art, literature, finance, etc. For instance, the financial world has witnessed the introduction of technological advancement in online trading in the form of auto robots like bitcoin loophole. The people who embrace technology will be successful.

Jaded Ibis Press publishes and produces text + image collaborations between authors and artists, or one author’s multimedia project. Some narratives may result in long-term, multi-dimensional collaborations that span the virtual and real worlds, from digital deliveries to gallery experiences.

We pay our authors an extraordinary 40% or more net royalties compared to the industry standard of 7-10% of cover price.

Furthermore, through our Giving Projects we donate to nonprofit environmental and cultural organizations as a way of offsetting our carbon footprint and giving back to those who work to make the world a better place for us all. Each year we select one project to be our Giving Project of the Year, with a percentage (usually 20%) of proceeds earmarked for the chosen organization.



Networking is more than a publicity strategy.

Our innovative business model arose from an understanding of Systems Theory and a confidence in its organizational efficacy. A system is a set of social, biological, technological or material parts cooperating as a whole toward a common purpose.

Systems Theory developed from biology, where it is difficult to understand the functions of, for example, the sexual reproduction of flowers separate from the functions of insects. The newest scientific research (Scientific American) confirms that quantum entanglement does not exist only at the micro level. The universe is one great web built of interconnected webs built of interconnected threads that, when tugged or snipped, the whole design shifts. Thus, for every cause there is an effect – even if those effects take years or decades or centuries or millennia to manifest. (Pictured at right: Debra Di Blasi’s Facebook network of only her top 50 friends.)

Just as ignoring interconnections may cause environmental and organizational destruction (think climate change and banking crises), utilizing them can create tremendous benefits to the individual parts and thereby the whole. By linking literary, visual, musical arts — and the newest technological platforms — we can expand audiences for all participants: Readers and listeners learn a bit more about music; musicians and readers learn a bit more about visual art; and listeners and musicians learn a bit more about literature and its marvelous possibilities.

Because artists and musicians are urged to respond to the writing rather than illustrate it, the reader-viewer-listener who explores all aspects of a project receives multiple perspectives on a single theme — a theme that may mutate into larger themes as a result of the aesthetic collision.

Culture and humanity, as a whole, also benefit by the evolution and generation of ideas. Book publishing, large and small, has become a tenuous web, unable to remain economically or culturally feasible without full cooperation of everyone involved. The amount of funds, time and talent expended to bring out just one book is tremendous; thus, threads that do not contribute to the whole must be snipped so as to not impede with the success of the system’s parts.

Our Expectations

One of our goals is to teach you that actively participating in a network exponentially expands the reach of your own projects and career, consequently benefiting you, other Jaded Ibis writers, artists and musicians, and the company and culture, in general. To this end, we expect our writers and artists to work closely and cooperate with Jaded Ibis publisher and editors, and show support of other Jaded Ibis authors, artists and musicians. We also expect them to comprehend and care how book publishing can be much more than just a business, academic requirement, or self-promotion. Publishing can be an art.

If you are submitting a manuscript but are unable or unwilling to participate in our system, or if you feel our philosophy is at odds with yours, we strongly suggest that you withdraw your project from our consideration.

Help Us Sustain You and the Planet

We are continually looking for new ways to keep fine literature, art and music in the world without burdening the planet. To this end, we welcome your suggestions on how we can be more sustainable.

How We Know We Are Forgiven

Who knows how far his poem will travel? For many of us, most of our poems won’t make it past the rectangular space of our door. And, if a poem does manage to make it into the world and thrive, it’s often without our intent. The poem makes its own way, finds its own home, and seeks its own friends. And who knows if one of the friends won’t be an old acquaintance of yours upon whom, years before, you made a poor impression? And who knows what relationship that person will have with your poem, and how such a relationship might affect the regard in which you’re held.

Part of the mystery of writing is that the destination of our work is often concealed from us. Still, we continue the daily ritual of waking early to sit at our desks and sail seas full of fragmented ideas, blurred beginnings, and uncertainties with the hope of arriving at some distant shore where what’s beyond us comes together in the language of our experience.

How We Know We Are Forgiven

We know when our words
Are finally allowed
To travel routes of the heart
That once were barricaded
Against them as strangers
And they are given reign again
To stretch out upon sands,
Chat with newly arrived travelers,
And left alone to haggle
With silk and spice merchants.

Instead of being kicked
From tents and caravans,
Our words will once again
Be pulled into the crowds
By friends left behind,
Wiped clean of grime
Collected in the desert,
Then given fresh robes and pants,
Before being led unto hammocks to snore
After bread and wine.


In this poem, there are custodians of the imagination who impose and preserve a normative world view. And we see to what lengths these “wise men” will go to make children think “what’s right.” It seems to me, however, that sometimes writing is the act of dancing the wrong dance – the act of taking elements of the taught-imagination and stretching them as far as one can.

Solomon’s Montessori School

The school is popular among children.
And upon their gathering,
Each swears of her own experience –

“Yesterday, I saw ten golden gates
Standing without fences”

“Today, I saw god appoint Winds as sages”

“I’ve seen angels floating east” –

To suppress these claims,
Wise men from town

Stand children against the wall
Without food, for hours

Until each confesses a change of heart –
To the relief of parents
And the esteemed Council of The Wise –

That Solomon’s school never existed
And is only seen by the mad.

Precisely at that moment,
A girl hears Solomon’s invisible call.

She pulls down her veil,
Listens to the hymns,

Then runs like one taken
To begin studies

“In how to climb god’s fences
And wrestle with Winds.”


After years of toil, how does a writer handle himself when his work is finally recognized? Some writers become lost in the pageantry. Some accept the recognition for what it is, are grateful for what they are given, while keeping in mind that what’s more important is returning to that place of unknowing, which often is the source of poetry.

The Measured Notion of One’s Self

How blessed the man,
Who despite praise,
Acclaim and applause

Remains in the end,
Essentially as he was –

Unaffected by the ribbons
Taped to his door,

The bouquet of flowers,
The certificates framed
In his halls,

And in his study,
The hung medallions.

Not for this man
The quiet relief of being paraded
Through the village on borrowed horse

All for being the first of its sons
To sail the Indian Ocean and
The first to write several volumes
Scholars hold in high estimation.

Quite admirable that after waving
Through the confetti and horns,
He returns home not thinking
“Tomorrow praise is again assured.”

But that it is already gone
And he is again as he was.

No wonder he is now at his door
Untaping the ribbons.

No doubt he’s taken down
The medallions.

In the morning,
He’ll return the horse.

Determination and Stamina

Leonard-Chang by Leonard ChangThe subject of determination and stamina came up recently with some writer friends. I feel like I can talk about this with some authority not just for myself but because I’ve been in contact with writers from all stages since I was in high school, when my best friend and I decided we were going to be novelists, so we started writing a novel together. That was over two decades ago, and I’ve been pretty much writing since then.I’ve encountered many, many different kinds of writers, and have seen the careers of some take off, and others falter and fail.

This is similar to the innumerable number of cryptocurrencies that has taken off but only a handful is memorable and still popular. Individuals have now started trading in automated trading systems like Bitcoin Code. According to the Bitcoin code review at https://cybermentors.org.uk/bitcoin-code/bitcoin-code-should-you-invest/ the success of the system depends on the strategy used and not just advanced tools just like And what seems to indicate future success has almost nothing to do with talent. Talent is wonderful as a bonus. A facility with language and a native intelligence also helps. Luck has some role. But determination and stamina — the ability to persevere in the face of rejection and disappointment — is what seems to link the writers who publish or sell their work, and continue to do so and thrive in their fields.

I learned this in part from reading about the writers I’ve admired — biographies in which the intrepid biographer dug up rejections, notes, and anguished letters from my favorite writers who have gone through exactly what I was going through. Just because Faulkner won the Nobel Prize didn’t mean that long before that he was almost certain his career was over, and everyone soundly rejected all his work.

Just because Fitzgerald’s novels now sell about 10,000 copies a month doesn’t mean that toward the end of his life he kept writing even though most of his novels were out of print. He died while working on The Last Tycoon, and that year total sales of all his work were 42 copies. Hell, even I outsell the out-of-favor Fitzgerald. Of all the writers I’ve known and taught, writers I’ve even been in workshop with, whose brilliance and lyrical gifts awed and humbled me, it was almost never those achingly beautiful writers who went on to publish and make a career for themselves.

It was the middle-of-the-pack writers who kept plugging away, who listened and absorbed the criticisms leveled at them, revised and rewrote, and when it seemed they had been beaten down by peers, teachers, agents and publishers, they dusted themselves off, sat back down at their desks, and started a new project.

One my former students had a first novel come out not too long ago. His story is particularly rewarding because his novel received over 60 rejections. His novel made the rounds over such a long period of time that a new roster of editors would be at a publishing house by the time he resubmitted to them. His agent gave up and quit. His debts loomed and he had to work extra hours at his grunt job to pay his rent. His novel was good, very good, but it was also harsh and bleak and difficult, and obviously not very commercial, and because we became friends I saw the toll of the rejections.

Yet he continued to submit his novel on his own, and continued to write. It was over two years of submissions, and he managed to finish a new novel while this was happening. And then, finally, when it rains… He got two offers toward the end, both from small publishers, both good literary houses.

And the thing is, even if that novel never found a publisher, he would’ve began submitting his second one. And if that didn’t get published, he’d write a third one. Eventually, it would happen. How could it not?

I have writer friends who are smart and perceptive, who write very compelling fiction and scripts, but who have given up on a project after one or two rejections. I know some writers who had easy acceptances early on, only to face the brutal realities of publishing and Hollywood later, confronted with unfamiliar and humiliating rejections of subsequent novels, stories, and scripts and because it had seemed so easy early on, they crumbled.

The point of this is simple: expect rejection and difficulty, and know that you can work through it.

Determination and stamina.

You must brave forward, no matter what.

There is No Redemption: On Writing and Obsession

In the Afterword of my forthcoming book, Jared Woodland writes: “This book is a development of obsessive abandon, one outcome of a transfixion from which the author might never recover.” Indeed the obsession that the project circled around is yet transposed over my gaze, a fixation that has changed the way I engage with the world around me.The obsession began thus: in a period of depression and writer’s block, I turned, as a frantic impulse and as a reprieve from the rest of “life,” to the films of Béla Tarr, in particular, Satantango, Damnation, The Werckmeister Harmonies, and The Turin Horse. Yes, I was depressed, and found myself incredibly unmotivated to do anything really, but a strange and persistent force kept me watching these films. I even found the uncanny bleakness of these films strangely comforting. As I avoided my other writing obligations, I felt compelled to watch these films on repeat, taking notes, writing alternate dialogues, creating different versions of scenes, etc. These notes became the basis of Damnation. During this time, it was as Rilke had written: “Suddenly one has the right eyes.” I was learning to “see” all over again. László Krasznahorkai writes in his essay “About a Photographer” in the second issue of Music & Literature:

“Condemned to look, yet at the same time to be deprived of sight, we are in a complex pitiless trap, a double cage, to the recognition of which though it cages us all—condemns confusingly few.”

Later in the same essay, he continues:

“There are those to whom it is obvious that it is impossible to make a whole out of all these billions of available images, who instinctively look away from the billions of fragments and in one surprising and elegant feint begin anew with the act of creation, imagining a brand new set of fragments out of which he constructs a brand new totality.”

Can I admit that this, to me, describes exactly my process of writing Damnation? Can I admit that the project, not entirely ekphrastic, was too a form of confession? Can I admit that the writing, mostly written without conscious intention of craft, was more like a flood of persistent language that forced itself through my body only while I was watching the films?

I tried to write at other times, without the films playing. And I found it impossible. The writing refused to be written independent of the films. And my eyes, my body, my heart, started a hopeless dependence on the cinematic world of Béla Tarr.

There is a description of cows that reads as an ekphrastic exercise. But in many other parts, while watching and enveloped in the gaze of the film, I felt like I was trapped in a confessional booth and giving confession. The long takes of the film opened up for me, not the possibilities of aesthetic contemplation, but ethical and moral contemplation. Redemption, as a possibility, was impossible, but not nonexistent. The feeling of eternity could penetrate my being over the course of minutes. The images weren’t just inviting me to contemplate, there was almost an ethical obligation to mirror back and contemplate the situation of my own particular self, a strange connection between their hopeless situation and my own, a strange hope in the landscape of hopelessness. In my mind, I was giving confession while immersed in these sustained gazes. (To whom?) The experience was meditative, hallucinatory, compulsive.

I found myself sketching images and shots of the film. This in turn, became another obsession, and before it was all over, I had sketched every shot of both the films Damnation and Sátántangó (a reminder that Sátántangó is 7 hours long, and during the project’s course, I watched and rewatched Sátántangó over 10 times).

This is one evidence to show how a movie can impress us and make us too involved with its plot. Making a review about a movie gets very simple when you feel interested in the making and the story of the movie. Sketching this movie has made my understanding skills and drawing skills move a point upward and has made me feel confident. Look at this website to know how I did this!


Damnation is a huge departure from my past writing, which was much more characterized by short, poetic fragments that rhizomatically created a layer narrative, much more a map of my own consciousness, drawing connections between abstract and concrete points. Damnation is much more a series of vignettes of prolonged snapshots, sustained gazes and moments that expand, contracting and protracting time. Time as a vantage point, the roving camera, or the roving subject. Time carries on without us. If my previous writing was assertive and declarative, this new mode is presentational and utterly uncertain. If my previous works were about building complex architectures of possibilities, ideas, and systems, Damnation is, as declared in Tarr’s film of the same name, all about disintegration.


Too, perhaps, all of my projects have been about obsession in a way, and perhaps, this is what writing is for me. My first book KEROTAKIS was the creative outpouring of a massive and obsessive set of research patterns, where I read hundreds of books, making connections in my mind that may or may not be manifested as well in the text. And Daughter, though the monstrous octopus seems to haunt every page of the book, is actually a very spectral entity. There exists very little description of the physical octopus, and though you wouldn’t know it, I read a plethora of books, some scientific, some biological studies of octopus species, even books on octopus fishing, because that was what I felt like I had to do in order to write the book.

People often ask me what Daughter is about, and it’s very hard to answer that question. I have my stock answer: It is about an unnamed daughter, wandering through the desert, who comes the body of a giant octopus. Believing that this may be the body of a dead god, she performs an autopsy on it.

This general plot outline, though, isn’t what the book is about. And even with the various themes of religion, consciousness, mother/daughter relationships, birth and death — the book isn’t necessarily about any of these things either. The book is a series of perceptual outposts, a constelletatory narrative that is about narrative itself. Or at least, my relationship with narrative at the time I wrote the book. The fragments reflect that. The humor, even, reflects that.

Now though, my eyes have changed. And so has the world. It is true that I may never recover. And even though, I don’t really consider the project “finished.” But for now, I continue to look, to watch, and to wait.
Janice Lee is a writer, artist, editor, designer, curator, and scholar. Interested especially in the relationships between metaphors of consciousness, theoretical neuroscience, and experimental narrative, her creative work draws upon a wide variety of sources. Her obsessive research patterns lead her to making connections between the realms of technology, consciousness studies, design theory, the paranormal & occult, biological anthropology, psychology, and literary theory. She is the author of KEROTAKIS (Dog Horn Press, 2010) and Daughter (Jaded Ibis, 2011). She also has several chapbooks Red Trees, Fried Chicken Dinner (Parrot/Insert Press, September 2012), and The Other Worlds (Eohippus Labs, June 2012). Her newest project, Damnation, is forthcoming from Penny-Ante Editions in October 2013. She currently lives in Los Angeles where she is Co-Editor of the online journal [out of nothing], Reviews Editor at HTMLGIANT, and Founder/CEO of POTG Design.

Writing Well Will Cost You

I’ve never been a wake-up-at-five-in-the-morning-and-write-every-day kind of gal. I have nothing but admiration for people with that seat-of-the-pants-to-the-chair discipline, but that’s never been me. Instead I tend to wait — to cogitate and agitate — until I absolutely must put something on paper, until, whether because of an imposed deadline or internal pressure, it’s simply imperative. Partly, this is because I work two jobs and have two kids, but that’s not the whole story. I’m sure that given infinite free time, I’d be more productive on the page than I am now, and I’m equally sure that I’d still find myself procrastinating and sometimes “blocked.”Procrastination, in its weird way, is part of the process. While I’m procrastinating, I’m never really free of the task; I’m turning the creative problem over and over in my mind, consciously and unconsciously, reformulating the terms. At some level I am saying no to the easy, knock-it-out solution, the tired-and-true, the familiar. I might not be typing words on a keyboard, but something is marinating.

At a certain point, however, procrastination can morph into all-out blockage, silence, the freeze every writer dreads. Writer’s block issues out of fear — but of what? Some people speculate that it’s fear of failure (the story in your head is never as good as the one on the page, and what with Goodreads, Amazon, and BN.com, there have never been more critics). Others assert that the deeper fear is of success (i.e. a critical or commercial success in the marketplace might mess with your familiar low self-esteem or force other changes in your life). My gut feeling is that it’s something else: Writer’s block stems from fear of what might appear on the page if you’re writing honestly, if, as a teacher of mine used to say, “you have your pencil in the right place,” if you are writing toward jeopardy.

Writing well is a destabilizing act. A comfort read reinforces the readers’ and writer’s mutually agreed-upon ideas of how the world works, and it has its place; it’s entertainment. But literature challenges our fondest beliefs — about the world, about other people, about ourselves. It is mind-altering. Its creation transforms the writer, however subtly, and every revision is a revision of the writer’s intellect, the writer’s memory, the writer’s relationship to self. When you are writing well, when you are solving a creative problem with a new and strange and unforeseen solution, there is every possibility that it will scare the hell out of you. This is the bad news and the good news. This is also, of course, why we do it: We might learn something true.

Writing well will cost you. So how do we avoid being paralyzed by fear? I wish I knew. My best shot to date is to trick myself, even though I should and do know better, into writing “just a few sentences.” I know full well that “just a few sentences,” if they are good ones, creates an entryway into a world, one this is full of promise and terror, and from which there might be no turning back. I also know that pretty much every time out I hit “the wall” at what turns out to be roughly the three- quarters mark of whatever I am writing. I become convinced the whole enterprise is a failure, I’ve wasted my time, and there is no way through to completion — at which point I have to procrastinate some more, until I find a little opening, a pinpoint of light in that brick edifice. A flaw through which to chisel. To recognize a challenge is not the same thing as to overcome one, but it’s a start. I sometimes refer to awful drafts of work that eventually succeeded as a reminder that this too shall pass, that no wall is impenetrable.

Prediction isn’t my strong suit, but it’s a safe bet that I’ll never be known as prolific, and I don’t think I want to be. Every book, every story, every essay I have written has changed me in some way, even this one. The fear doesn’t go away, and it shouldn’t. But the fear of the fear abates — sometimes we even grow nervy with fear — and the faith that the work is worth it abides.

David Hoenigman

DAVID HOENIGMAN was born and raised in Cleveland, Ohio, but has lived in Tokyo, Japan since 1998. He is the organizer of Tokyo’s bimonthly PAINT YOUR TEETH, a celebration of experimental music, literature and dance. Hoenigman regularly interviews avant-garde writers for the online journal, WORD RIOT. He is currently working on his second novel, Squeal For Joy, forthcoming from Jaded Ibis Press.


“A perfect rondel.” –Terese Svoboda, author Black Glasses Like Clark Kent

“I like the obsessive quality of the writing and the way certain images or sentences seem to burst out of the background with a kind of eerie, insistent resonance. It’s like the emotional equivalent of the sensation of a phantom limb”* –Dawn Raffel, author of Carrying the Body

“Hoenigman’s terse, staccato prose is the language of consciousness, and his book not so much anti-narrative as true to the realities of one’s inner sense-making, true to the convoluted and seemingly disparate tales we tell ourselves. In short, Burn Your Belongings is a well-crafted and adventurous book from what is undoubtedly a writer of great promise.”  – Gary J. Shipley, Word Riot

David Hoenigman Books

burn your belongings
a novel by
david hoenigman“destined for cult status.”
– Alex Martin, Outsider Writers CollectiveART: orginal images by Yasutoshi YoshidaSOUND: original music by Yasutoshi Yoshida – LISTEN NOW“David Hoenigman’s Burn Your Belongings is a dense narrative of choppy sentences that elude the human desire for story at almost every turn. When read aloud, mantralike, the thick walls of text take on the feel of religious chant, a prayer to weariness and sickness and anxiety. At other times, they flutter with moments of happiness and love, and feel exponentially more like real life than anything Hemingway or any naturalist ever put to paper. In the margins of each page is a different vibrant color collage by Yasutoshi Yoshida. … The collages add another layer, another conversation, to the book.”
– Paul Constant, book critic for The StrangerBurn Your Belongings slowly, relentlessly builds the emotional ebb and flow of a love triangle over a period of months, perhaps years. Every fear, joy, doubt, hatred, desire and elation manifests through a litany of interior monologues – from the mundane to the profound and always beautifully lyrical. The accretion of imagery and often frighteningly stark examination of Self and Other create a transformational emotional experience. Hoenigman’s brilliance is his ability to transfer language to the reader so that by novel’s end, the feelings and observations of the characters become not their memories but the reader’s own.
Three illustrated editions available
Black and White
A hand-carved, hand-painted 2-foot length of mako bamboo contains the text and images of Burn Your Belongings printed in color on a double scroll.


A hand-carved, hand-painted 2-foot (approx) length of mako bamboo contains the text and images of Burn Your Belongins printed in color on a double scroll. The effect is a beautiful art object that might have been made long ago by someone in a Japanese village. A matchbook bearing the book’s title is fitted into a carved niche in the cork top. Hoenigman lives and works in Tokyo, the setting of Burn Your Belongings. Tokyo artist, Yasutoshi Yoshida, is a renowned Harsh Noise musician and record producer whose collage influences stem primarily from art brut. The book’s narrative exemplifies the intersection of old and new that still exists in Japanese culture, as well as the role of the American outsider situated in the insider world of Tokyo; thus the design of inside vs. outside. Moreover, to read the scroll one must “pile” the pages in a flowing heap, just as the author’s innovative narrative lyrically piles sentence upon sentence upon sentence to create not so much an obvious plot but rather a flowing experience so intense that it feels as much physical as intellectual. The intent is also to emphasize the delicacy of language – its mutability and potential dissolution – by printing the text and art on Japanese sumi paper. Approximate size: 2′ (height) x 7″ (diameter). Scroll approx. 190 feet long.

PRICE: $8500.00 Because our limited edition fine art books are handcrafted, each will vary slightly. Special order only. Allow 8-10 weeks. Email us to order now.Or buy now through Paypal. (We are a Verified Seller)

Alexandra Chasin

Alexandra Chasin received a PhD in Modern Thought and Literature at Stanford University in 1993, and an MFA in Fiction Writing at Vermont College in 2002. She is the author of Selling Out: The Gay and Lesbian Movement Goes to Market, a study of the relation between the LGBT “market” and the LGBT social movement. Other books include Kissed By, a collection of short formally innovative fiction. Chasin is a past recipient of a Bunting Fellowship at Radcliffe, a Whiting Dissertation Fellowship, and a 2012 Fiction Fellowship from New York Foundation for the Arts. She teaches in the Literary Studies Department at Lang College, The New School. (Author credit: Cathy Lee Crane)

Scott Peterman is an artist, inventor and developer working in a wide variety of languages and contexts. He currently teaches in the MFA Design and Technology Program at Parsons, The New School for Design. Learn more about Scott at www. petermania.com

Application developed by Scott Peterman

Written, designed and programmed specifically to be read as an interactive book, Brief randomly pulls images to illustrate the text of the novel. This provides a wildly different visual experience for every reader.?

Alexandra Chasin’s fiercely entertaining debut novel, Brief, enters the realm of interactive books as a first in the oncoming wave of literary writing designed to incorporate the medium as an integral part of the storyline.

The Story:
In a funny, angry, hyper-articulate monologue, an art vandal makes a passionate plea to a judge: you, the reader. The vandal has been charged with defacing a masterpiece of modern art, and asks you to consider the following argument: Maybe the way we turn out is less the fault of our parents and more the effect of larger cultural and historical influences — maybe history is the real culprit. Rich with references to the high art, mass culture, political ideologies, and military maneuvers of the post-war era, from the Cold War to the introduction of television, Brief chronicles the formation of an art vandal, until the story explodes in an enactment of temporary insanity.”

The Technology:
Chasin’s collaborator, programmer Scott Peterman, helped design this iPad app-novel to invite readers into the story’s courtroom, and to enrich and complicate the art vandal’s defense. Technology has amazed us in every field. It has made life easier for all of us. Now even trading of currencies is possible with just a click sitting in front of your desktop or from your phone with the help of software’s like crypto CFD trader.  Now back to the iPad app-novel, The app randomly locates images and then wraps the text around them. As a result, every screen of Brief is unique, generating new combinations and new meanings. Swipe forward and backward, you will never see the same screen twice. Torn into fragments, composited, detailed, and abstracted, the 700+ images in Brief do not serve to illustrate but rather to evoke the time period in play, and to probe the question of cause and effect in history.

Tom Bradley (text) + Nick Patterson (art)

Tom Bradley taught British and American literature to Chinese graduate students in the years leading up to the Tiananmen Square massacre. He was politely invited to leave China after burning a batch of student essays about the democracy movement rather than surrendering them to “the leaders.” He wound up teaching conversational skills to freshman dentistry majors in the Japanese “imperial university.” Tom is a former lounge harpist. During his pre-exilic period, he played his own transcriptions of Bach and Debussy in a Salt Lake City synagogue that had been transformed into a pricey watering hole by a nephew of the Shah of Iran. Family Romance is Tom’s twentieth published book

Nick Patterson is a visual artist whose love of twisting minds and turning heads has lead him to explore all the darkness the human experience can muster, through high contrast ink drawings. With no official training in the visual medium, Patterson’s art is loosely tethered to reality, although it is very detailed. His inspiration is drawn from an amalgam of cartoons, comics, and movies. Carrying a sketchbook with him everywhere, he lets no flicker of imagination escape. Nick Patterson’s art has been published in several small magazines and novels. He currently lives in a city full of flowers on the western edge of Canada.
Tom Bradley (text) + Nick Patterson (art) Profile
“exasperating, offensive, pleasurable, and brilliant…it might well be genius”
Family Romance a novel by nick patterson (visuals)and tom bradley (verbals)

“It’s a monstrosity of the imagination as if a Burroughs virus hijacked the machinery of Finnigans Wake and replicated itself as a litera-teratus. Illustrator Nick Patterson joins Bradley in the procedure with ninety disturbing images of Bosch-like detail you don’t want to see on the way home from your local head shop.” —by John Ivan-Palmer, Exquisite Corpse

“Tom Bradley is one of the most exasperating, offensive, pleasurable, and brilliant writers I know. I recommend his work to anyone with spiritual fortitude and a taste for something so strange that it might well be genius.”
—Denis Dutton, Arts & Letters Daily

“I tell you that Dr. Bradley has devoted his existence to writing because he intends for every center of consciousness, everywhere, in all planes and conditions (not just terrestrial female Homo sapiens in breeding prime), to love him forever,
starting as soon as possible, though he’s prepared to wait thousands of centuries after he’s dead.” —Cye Johan, Exquisite Corpse Journal

“The contemporaries of Michelangelo found it useful to employ the term ‘terribilita’ to characterize some of the expressions of his genius, and I will quote it here to sum up the shocking impact of this work as a whole. I read it in a state of fascination, admiration, awe, anxiety, and outrage.” – R.V. Cassill, editor of The Norton Anthology of Fiction

Rick Whitaker

Rick Whitaker is the author of Assuming the Position: A Memoir of Hustling and The First Time I Met Frank O’Hara: Reading Gay American Writers. He is Concerts and Theatre Manager of The Italian Academy at Columbia University, New York.

Rick Whitaker Books

Goodreads Book Giveaway

An Honest Ghost by Rick Whitaker

An Honest Ghost

by Rick Whitaker

Giveaway ends September 30, 2013.

See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.

Enter to win

“He has put the force back into tour de force.

— John Ashbery


An Honest Ghost

a novel by

Rick Whitaker


“Whitaker proves that fiction is better than life—more interesting, much more thrilling”
— Edmund White

“Sheer genius…a uniquely gripping read.”
— Jenny McPhee

“An Honest Ghost is brilliantly conceived and brilliantly performed.”
— Adam Phillips

“Whitaker has performed such a work of genius and pushed it ad absurdum”
— Filip Noterdaeme

About the Book

Within the binary world of coded zeros and ones arises a choir of disembodied literary voices, from William Shakespeare to J. D. Salinger, Gertrude Stein to Susan Sontag, Djuna Barnes to Don DeLillo, and hundreds between and beyond.

Published as an interactive iBook as well as a paperback and ebook, Rick Whitaker’s semi-autobiographical novel, An Honest Ghost, consists entirely of sentences appropriated from over 500 books. Whitaker limited himself to using 300 words per book (in accordance with Fair Use); never taking two sentences together; and never making any changes, even to punctuation. In the iBook version, touching a sentence brings up its original source: a book’s title, author, and page number.

The experience of acknowledging each sentence as literary artifact, combined with the imagined accretion of books that built An Honest Ghost, deftly mirrors the burgeoning nostalgia in the narrator’s voice and, fittingly, in the careful reader’s heart.


More Praise for An Honest Ghost

“Reading An Honest Ghost is an exhilarating, percussive experience, proof that literature is capricious and exalted.  I felt like a grand piano some eccentric musician was playing, someone who knew all the composers and couldn’t stick to one for more than a minute. People always praise fiction for being lifelike but Whitaker proves that fiction is better than life—more interesting, much more thrilling, though it is inhabited by posturing, irresponsible, self-dramatizing characters…. The tension and excitement of this prose, constantly buffeting the reader, derives from all the different and unique authors who have contributed to it.”
— Edmund White, author of Jack Holmes and His Friend, My Lives, and A Boy’s Own Story

“Like an Italian micromosaic, whose infinitesimal ceramic tesserae generate an unearthly glow just by being in close proximity to each other, Rick Whitaker’s An Honest Ghost is both narrative and objet, a singular work of art whose singularity keeps beckoning to the reader. He has put the force back into tour de force.
— John Ashbery, poet, Self-portrait in a Convex Mirror, Illuminations: Arthur Rimbaud (tranls.), and Collected Poems 1956-87

“An Honest Ghost is brilliantly conceived and brilliantly performed.”
— Adam Phillips, author of Missing Out: In Praise of the Unlived Life and On Kissing, Ticklingand Being Bored

“An Honest Ghost is sheer genius, the uber novel, the ultimate palimpsest. It is a writer’s truth and a reader’s dream. Above all, it is a uniquely gripping read.”
— Jenny McPhee, author of A Man of No Moon and No Ordinary Matter

“I am struck by how deeply personal this book feels, even revelatory, as if the author had solicited other voices to perform an autopsy on his most private, intimate self.  And of course, I relish in this paradox which debunks all conventional notions of authorship, authenticity, identity and even language. What is remarkable is how Whitaker has performed such a work of genius and pushed it ad absurdum: the extreme bending appears effortless and forms a perfect circle, wherein full authorship of book, i.e. all the citations at the end of the book, are truly at the discretion of the reader, with all the responsibilities, pangs and joys this entails.  This time, Whitaker is asking us, readers, to assume the position!”
— Filip Noterdaeme, artist and author of The Autobiography of Daniel J. Isengart

Matthew Cooperman & Marius Lehene

Matthew Cooperman is the author of Still: of the Earth as the Ark which Does Not Move (Counterpath Press, 2011), DaZE (Salt Publishing Ltd, 2006) and A Sacrificial Zinc(Pleiades/LSU, 2001), winner of the Lena-Miles Wever Todd Prize, as well as three chapbooks, Still: (to be) Perpetual (dove | tail, 2007), Words About James (phylum press, 2005) and Surge (Kent State University Press, 1999). A founding editor of Quarter After Eight, and current poetry editor of Colorado Review, he teaches at Colorado State University in Fort Collins, where he lives with the poet Aby Kaupang and his two children. More information can be found at www.matthewcooperman.com

Marius Lehene is a native of Romania. Lehene holds an MFA in Drawing and Painting from Southern Methodist University (2001) and a BA in Economics from Babeş-Bolyai University, Romania (1996). Lehene is currently Associate Professor, and Director of Drawing in the Department of Art at Colorado State University. His work has been shown widely in the United States, and internationally in Eastern Europe and India. More information can be found at www.mariuslehene.com
Matthew Cooperman & Marius Lehene Profile
“a strangely beautiful mosaic…arresting”

Imago for the Fallen World

a collaboration between
Matthew Cooperman (poems)
Marius Lehen (art)

“Imago for the Fallen World is an elegy for the planet we’re losing, an index of soon-to-disappear human categories tenderly invested with Matthew Cooperman’s own associations, his intricate world-knowing; he gets his ‘coordinates from the mother ship, which is the virus you.’ Cooperman’s obsessive, strangely beautiful mosaic — punctuated by Marius Lehene’s arresting images — is interrupted by several long laments, passionately sad and clear-eyed, that imagine us in the elsewhere where we’ll soon not be.”
—Catherine Wagner, author of Nervous Device, My New Job and Macular Hole

“As Satchel Paige once said, ‘The social ramble ain’t restful.’ In Imago for the Fallen World, this social ramble is manifested via a collaborative artist book whose compositional strategies and experimental interface design are driven by covert poetry operations that disseminate the ‘polyvocal unconsciousness’ of network culture. Surf-sample-manipulate, collide and remix, #occupy and mashup — it’s all good.”
—Mark Amerika, author of remixthebook

“The imago that emerges here is born from a collision of visual culture with that of clipped utterances, quotations, extended puns, exegetical quips, historical moments, literary monuments, and other bits of runoff from our daily social, political, economic and erotic lives. ‘How do you pass the time?‘ Cooperman asks, before brilliantly offering the only answer we’ll ever need: ‘It passes itself’.”If only all answers were that simple; online trading robots have revolutionized the world of finance and trading and understanding but they have also given rise to lots of scams and frauds. It is, therefore, crucial to identify the fake from the real. But you can see this here at https://cybermentors.org.uk/ .
—Noah Eli Gordon, author of The Year of the Rooster and The Source