Towards a Bisexual Theory of Reading and Publishing
Collections, McNally Editions and why they're bisexual, what is a bisexual theory of reading and publishing, and my favorite McNally Editions so far
So here’s something nice to look forward to in January! The brilliant writer, teacher, and artist and I are offering a week-long workshop for anyone who is looking to get their creative practice going in the new year. It’s called “Writing Through the Dark: Maps, Methods, and Materials for Finding the Miraculous in Your Art,” and it’s five days, two hours each day (10 am New York time, 4 pm Sweden time because that’s where each of us lives) for $200. I’ve linked to the Facebook invite, but if you want to hold your spot, you’ve got to DM Clara or me and pay us and then you’re in!
If you sign up, you can expect to write and create a lot in a very supportive environment! You’ll get helpful, kind, present feedback that honors your work as it is, and also hopes to make it into something even better. Great readings! Super interesting prompts designed only by our crafty brains! And best of all, community! We usually laugh quite a bit too, and who doesn’t need giggles.
And as usual, if you like any of what you read below, please heart it, leave a comment, re-stack it, give me a tip, or become a paying subscriber.
Big thanks to my readers last month, who paid me enough in tips and subcriptions on my “Okay Fine, I’ll Make a Budget” post that I had enough money to get to the end of the month! You guys are truly the best people. I love you. I’m serious. Also, who says writing doesn’t pay! Not me!
This is a long one readers, so hang on, and use the headings if you get antsy and want to move into another part.
Collections
I had many collections as a kid—stickers that I kept in a photo album so that they could be peeled off and traded, ribbons, buttons, stuffed animals, dolls, doll clothes, and books. We were not true collectors in my house (too much chaos maybe and we used things until they broke), so nothing was in kept in mint condition, and we rarely achieved full sets.
Oops, I forgot, my dads records were pretty sacred objects, though my brother and I touched them often anyway, to get even, and because kids.
Another oops, I was pretty serious about my rock collection, which I convinced myself contained a diamond. It didn’t, but I still loved my rocks. Oh, and my stamp collection. Nevermind, I’m a huge collecting nerd.
I can still see my book collections sitting on the wall-long shelving unit my mom found at a garage sale. The shelving unit was made of teak (could this be?) and had shelves, compartments with sliding doors, and a desk with its own compartments. I loved that thing! Thanks Mom!
Nancy Drew
Sweet Valley High
Anne of Green Gables and Emily of New Moon
Little House on the Prarie
Choose Your Own Adventure
What book series or collections did you have? Please tell me down in the comments bbs, I live for comments.
This probably led to my habit in graduate school of trying to read everything by an author if I liked one their books or trying to find authors that had many books so I could read them all. The Rabbit Series by John Updike, all of the Edith Whartons, all of the Bernard Malamuds, all of the Ha Jins, all of the Alice Munros, tried but didn’t make it through all of the Philip Roths, all of the Willa Cathers, all of the Brontes, didn’t make it through all of the Austens, all of the Prousts (yes, honestly it was one of the best reading experiences of my life, but I had my ex-husband reading ahead of me and egging me on with juicy hints whenever I wanted to quit), all of the Sharon Olds, all of the Tomas Transtromers, all of the Jamaica Kincaids, all of Nella Larsens (just two, but why o’ why not more?! America is the likely answer), all of the James Baldwins.
Lately, it’s been all of the Ferrantes, all of the Teas, all of Myles(s), all of the Greenwells, all of the Shearns (missing that first one because someone stole it from me), all of the Knausgaards (made it to three), all of the Milks(s), all of the Berstein Sycamores, all of the Melnicks, all of Szabos. Okay, I’ll stop because I could probably do this for a while. If I love one of your books, I will try to read all of your books. It’s just so fascinating to find the obsessions, preoccupations, Easter Eggs, people, places, and ideas of one writer.
Also, and I really don’t know why (it’s one of my few skills honestly) I can read most books in a day (200-300 pages). Two days for 300-400 pages. I don’t know how this happens. I just go into the book and if no one disturbs me I just stay in the book for as long as I can.
Someone (I think it was you
) recently called this form of reading disassociation, and that feels exactly right to me. I leave my world and go into the world of the book. Thank you for giving me that world. People can experience this with video games or virtural reality too I’m told, but for me it works best with books. Because it’s calming (even if the world is harrowing) and its passive, and it’s deep, like I’m living with the characters in the book, and I don’t want to be bothered with anything else.N. Katherine Hayles calls this “deep attention” in an essay I used to teach long ago.
McNally Editions History
A few years ago, McNally Jackson bookstore which is my favorite indie bookstore in the world (and has hosted all of my book launches with the exception of the first), started re-issuing books under the imprint McNally Editions.
My other favorite bookstore in the world is Lofty Pigeon in Brooklyn! I just want everyone to know that I live for my visits with Bri and Davi.
They started with simple wrap around detachable French Flap-like covers (I bet these have a name publishing nerds speak to me!) and then moved into full French flap covers (it’s like a hardcover’s paper flap but it’s the actual cover of a paperback) with subtle, yet cool designs. Not screamy (like BUY ME!), but Hey, I’ve got a secret inside my jacket, and you should check it out, but no pressure.
They also seemed to me (bisexual queerdo that I am) to be extremely bisexual, so much so that I started to think the editors (who are you people, please reveal yourselves?!) were/are all bisexual, and were trying to communicate something to me personally through their re-issuing choices. What that is, I will get to later.
I bet I’m not alone in this feeling, otherwise why is the series still going strong. It must be working it’s magic on other people too.
Here’s what McNally Editions says of its own series on the last page of each book:
McNally Editions reissues books that are not widely known but have stood the test of time, that remain as singular and engaging as when they were written. Available in the US wherever books are sold or by subscription from mcnalllyjackson.com.
And on the website:
McNally Editions is an independent publisher devoted to elevating unduly neglected books and authors. As the publishing arm of McNally Jackson Books in New York, we believe that often the most enjoyable reading experiences lie off the beaten path, waiting to be rediscovered, and that discovery is what literary culture is all about. McNally Editions are made with the highest quality print production materials, including acid-free paper, because we believe that good books should last and be shared, and ought to be beautiful too.
Cute. I’m in.
In 2025 they are pairing with Maria Popova to curate more special books under the imprint Marginalian. Popova made the beloved blog Brain Pickings circa 2006. I don’t know what this is going to be about, but I’m curious. I also think they should hire me to make a series. Yes, this is my resume for that job.
That came up when I typed bisexual woman, and I kinda love her.
What is Bisexual Reading Anyway?
I said I love the McNally books because they feel bisexual to me, but I want to tease this out a bit. Bisexuals are often accused of not picking a side: Do you like men or women more? Who is better at sex? Are you really queer if you date straight men? Where do we put you exactly? Like how do you fit in if you like so many different kinds of people? Wait, for you, it’s not even about the gender of the person, but more about the person themselves? Traitor! Liar! Cheater! How do you even touch that? (all real things bisexuals hear all of the time)
21st century publishing treats us all like we are confused, wayward bisexuals. It asks us to pick our genres and stick to them. Do you like mystery, well here’s all the mystery books you could ever want! Do you like literary novels, well here they are you snooty betch! And so forth. And so on. With comps. With what kinds of fiction do you write? With the whole darn thing.
But what about the books that are just kind of weird and good, that you just like because you like them (kinda like the way that bi/pan people feel about the people they love), and they don’t exactly fit into any of the neat publishing categories. Are they LGBTQ fiction or upmarket women’s? Are they literary or women’s? Are they romance vampire goth, but not quite page turner, but still really good?
Do they have great sentences that keep you reading but kind of a messy plot? Are there a few too many characters, but you love them all? Are they plot heavy, but so audacious that you forgive them for it? Do they just have that special something (a voice, a verve, an outrageous premise, a wandering sass, dialogue fresh off the streets, a sexy dream state, I could go on and on…)?
There are some publishers out there doing similiar things right now with new books, but it’s hard becuase publishing is hard or at least that’s what everyone tells us and in my experience it has been hard, mostly because I write books that people seem to enjoy reading but that don’t really fit well into the set categories. Or they don’t do all of the things perfectly, but they do many things quite wonderfully. And I hear this a lot about my favorite writers and my favorite books. The road is not easy. Or who knows why publishing is so freaking hard? I bet we lose a lot of great books and writers along the way. Or they publish one or two things and give up and then 60 years later maybe get re-issued if they’re super lucky.
and Beth Pickens are definitely doing it with Dopamine Books for queer and trans writers. Clash Books. LittlePuss. Please help me with this list. I could do more here, but I promised my kid we’d put up the xmas tree today.McNally Editions (and a lot of the older books I’ve read) makes me think that publishing used to be weirder and wilder (especially at the Big Five) and you could get not so polished books through. I may be romaticizing a past time I wasn’t a part of and/or maybe this time doesn’t exist, but I think it’s worth pausing to consider, think deeply about, and hopefully address.
Round Up
Here are my little plugs for the McNally Editions I’ve read. These plugs will be short and idiosyncratic. I don’t get paid enough (thank you subscribers! I’m doing my best!) to write full reviews, and also this is a blog.
I’ll keep adding to this as I read them because I do plan to read them all, though I tend to gravitate towards the longer ones. I hate getting involved with a book and then it’s over in less than a day!
The Ex-Wife by Ursula Parrott. I’m not sure if this is the first McNally I read, but it’s one of the firsts. I was drawn to it because I wrote a novel called The Not Wives about refusing to conform to the obligations of wifedom among other things, and I was surprised to see a book from 1929 with that title, and it’s true that Parrott kinda created the category of ex-wife or made it okay to call oneself that. The book is totally prescient, witty, sexy, awful, mean, and wonderful. The women work and try to be free, but of course it doesn’t work out at all. It’s super white and middle class, and I’ve never read about so many drinks being consumed and they all sound delicious and it kinda feels like being on the apps now. Also, there’s writing about abortion that is so honest I cried. I wish this was the canonical book taught instead of The Great Gatsby, but I don’t make the rules.
Rattlebone by Maxine Clair. This is another one of the firsts I read, and I don’t remember it super well. Sorry menopause ate my memory. But I know I loved it. Rattlebone is a Black neighborhood in 1950s Kansas City, and Irene Wilson’s looks on as her parents’ marriage falls apart in front of her. There is a sexy teacher to blame. It’s a book full of girls and women and their secrets and trying to get out of place that’s not going to let you be who you need to be.
The Feast by Margaret Kennedy. British. 1947. There’s a hotel on a cliff. Disaster strikes and the hotel collapses and everyone dies. But the book is set the whole week before the collapse, so you meet all of the hotel guests and the family that runs the hotel and the help they hire to keep the hotel going. There are secret romances, some insufferable fathers, and a wicked adoptive mother of orphans. It’s a very upstairs, downstairs situation and I can’t believe how people write such clever books.
Troy Chimneys by Margaret Kennedy. The book pretends to be a memoir by Miles Lufton 1782-1818, and he’s both awful and wonderful, but basically a fuckboy of the time. It reminded me of The Love Affairs of Nathaniel P. by Adele Waldman which I also really loved. It’s about how straight men think they are changing your life, but they’re actually ruining it with their narcissim. I also love the audacity of a book pretending to be another kind of book. I don’t know who this Maragaret Kennedy was, but damn, she could write some stories.
The Girls by John Bowen. Beloved to me. So queer. So poly in its own dark way. Two women lovers, living in a small English town in the Cotswolds, and one wants to have an adventure and go off, and so the other one is like okay, and then the left behind lover surprises herself by having sex with a man at a festival and getting pregnant. The wanderer comes back because she misses her girl and that’s a big surprise and they decide to raise the baby together. But the guy comes back around and things go sideways and get very grisly for a while and then the ending is really just lovely.
Twice Lost by Phyllis Paul. I guess the editors (please reveal yourselves lol or don’t it’s kinda fun this way) do like an overlooked English lady authoress. This one is so scary and haunting. A sad little poorly cared for girl, Vivian, with rather drunken awful parents goes missing and is never heard from again. Christine Gray, a vivacious teen with an hot future ahead of her was the last to see her alive and it destroys her in many ways. Its a dark book with many obessessions and a mystery that will keep you reading until the end. It’s also centered on an old house and a garden which everybody keeps returning to and trying to get a hold of and I love real estate stories don’t you?
Nocturnes for the King of Naples by Edmund White. Thank the gay gods (maybe Garth Greenwell) for this reissue). Edmund White is a treasure and this book is such a wonderful book of gay longing. A novel written as a letter (but not with the Dear So and So and Dear Mr. and Mrs.—no salutations, just prose) to the great love of his life, the older man he would have stayed with if he could have followed the rules and rituals and European traditions of the older man, that is, if he could have been a very good boy. The narrator was quite young when he met the older man, and the older man saved him from death (it was very bad and is recounted later in the book) and a horrible father and mother who didn’t love him (if you’ve ever been saved by an older man, you understand how complicated this can be). The book is a chronicle of lovers and adventures, and is about some of the things Americans used to do in beautiful European places. Gossipy. Drunken. Hot. Of what was and could have been.
Winter Love by Han Suyin. Okay, this is actually the first McNally Editions I read, and it’s the first issued. My copy says, “No. 01” on it and I like that. I want to be the first to read the obscure thing. I’m certainly not above that. I’m Gen X, I used to live and die by obscure play lists. 1944. Britain. Red is in love with the married Mara. I don’t remember this one as much as I want to, which makes me think I’ll reread it soon. Much of the book is about trying to get Mara away from her awful husband Karl, but they do get away and it’s beauitful and freeing, but they have to make a plan of how it could last because it’s 1944 and two women can’t just be together. I won’t tell you the end but it’s a toughy.
A Green Equinox by Eliazabeth Mavor. Another truly bisexual gem. Our protagonist (I can’t remember the point of view of this one and Miss
is hoarding this one from me) is a rare bookseller (I know! Perfect!) who is having an affair with a married man who is kind of ridiculous, and after one of their evenings of lovemaking he says, Oh my god, you must never meet my wife! But then the wife comes into the bookstore and they meet and have a crush right away and start working on some village projects together. The man deals with it rather well. His mother also lives with them and she’s an amazing character, a widowed artist, and then our protagonist named Hero (isn’t that great and Mavor gets away with it!) falls for the mother. I can’t tell you anymore. Oh this book made me actually give a shit about Rococo art which I never understood until I read this book.Office Politics by Wiflrid Sheed. My most recent read. I was sad when it was over because it was one of those novels that gives you a whole messed up, fascinating world. 1960s. New York. George Wren has dreamed of working for the esteemed and ridiculous magazine called, The Outsider, and he’s been hired (this is definitely not The New Yorker, but is it, a little bit?) The editor-in-cheif is a drunken Englishman who the three other male writers loathe, but respect. Something happens to him (can’t say what) and then there’s a bit of a coup as the remaining writers start jockeying for power and always under the guise of making the magazine better. The office space itself is dirty and cramped and there’s a an office manager, Olga Marplate, who is so much fun in her tyranny. She should have a spin off book for sure. There are schemes galore in this novel. Honestly, it’s not great for women in the book, though the exact their wills in the ways that they can, and there are some great surrprises with them too. What stays with me is how offices and art making can become so ruthless, petty, funny, and weird (academia anyone?) and also the kinds of food and drinks you could have in midtown Manhattan in the 60s. Martinis until you’ve passed out in the back of a cab. Chickens. Pastas. Sandwiches. Cakes. There’s also a lot of reflecting on what America is supposed to be, how if functions, what a confusing place it is, and I like that too. Oh, and one day you go into an office and then another day your retire, and that’s your life, voila, but in a fun and sad way, if that’s possible.
Next up, and I can’t get the margin back over to the left, I have in my possession An Obedient Father by Akhil Sharma and Loverman by Alston Anderson. From the list on the back page of Office Politics there are now 35 McNally Editions, so I’m way behind. There are new Djuna Barnes and Dorothy Parkers, so I gotta get to those soon.
I have wanted to catalogue these books for a while now because they’ve sustained me with great novels. I suppose that’s what imprints are supposed to do (too big) or editors with a lot of power (they also have perhaps too many books).
I want to say lastly, that I miss series(s) and collecting. Mcnally Editions has given that back to me, and I’d like more of it please now publishing. I now have one part of one of my book shelves set aside for them. I want them to be together, and when I loan them to friends I’m more careful about getting them back.
Of course there are drawbacks to this particular series, but I bet you can figure that out on your own.
Maybe if Amy or Matt and I ever get around to starting our presses, we can have a series of some kind. I hope so. The thing about a series with different authors is, you kinda want to be whimsical about your selections, and whismy isn’t a word I’d apply to publishing lately.
Ugh, still with this left margin refusing to budge! I didn’t finish this yesterday, but Sunday morning. We did get the tree up and she looks really great. Friends came over and that was the best. Also, the new Lindsay Lohan and Ian Harding Christmas movie is kinda good! The tree is truly only thing I care about holiday wise. Sometimes Christmas cookies. Also they time before xmas in New York has always been sorta magical. Lots of parties and drinks and getting to see more people than you usually do. I like that a lot too.
I’m trying not to be super alarmist about 2025, but I’m not looking forward to any of it. I’ll have a post up soon on some of my plans for dealing with the shitstorm that is headed our way. But for now, please leave a comment, hit the heart button, share this widely, tip me, and/or become a paying subscriber!
Enjoy the typos!
xoxoxo
Carley
Cosigning all of this, bisexually
This is so good and I'm sorry I am hoarding so many of your books! But not actually THAT sorry.