Books in McSweeney's Quarterly Concern series

Barthelme said that "The Novel of the Soil is dead, as are Expressionism, Impressionism, Futurism, Imagism, Vorticism, Regionalism, Realism, the Kitchen Sink School of Drama, the Theatre of the Absurd, the Theatre of Cruelty, Black Humor, and Gongorism." But he left out, pointedly, the Biji, the Nivola, the Graustarkian Romance, the Consuetudinary, the Whore's Dialogue, the Fornaldarsaga, and the eighties, which are not dead; they are all in McSweeney's 31, as rendered by Douglas Coupland, Joy Williams, John Brandon, Shelley Jackson, Mary Miller, and Will Sheff, along with other fugitive genres recaptured by our finest writers, as part of a project to bring them back alive (except for the eighties, there is actually nothing about the eighties). In an oversized format, with annotations, illustrations, and pantoums, Issue 31 aims to introduce you to all the genres you never knew you loved.

McSweeney's Issue 23 includes ten stories from ten excellent writers, including Wells Tower, Chris Bachelder, Ann Beattie, and other agile talents bringing visions of the Dallas/Fort Worth fake-watch trade and Papua New Guinea in the 1960s. Every story gets its own front and back cover drawn, collaged, or embroidered by the polymathic Andrea Dezsö. The whole thing is wrapped in a jacket that unfolds into five square feet of double-sided glory — spread it out one way for dozens of very short stories by Dave Eggers, arranged in what we're pretty sure is a volvelle; flip it over and witness all those Dezsö illustrations stitched into one unbroken expanse.

Because it seemed important to know in advance, we've dedicated Issue 32 to an investigation of the world to come--expect a set of near-future stories, written by the likes of Anthony Doerr, Heidi Julavits, and Salvador Plascencia, each of 'em unearthing a different corner of life in the year 2024. This will be, we are sure, way more entertaining than waiting fifteen years for the real thing.

Our laurels went unrested on for this one: Issue 34 features new stories of shipwrecks and kidnappings and bad vacations by (among others) Anthony Doerr, Daniel Handler, and T. C. Boyle, new letters about wine and Hawaii from John Hodgman and Sarah Vowell, twenty-one dead-on self-portraits drawn by the likes of Michael Martone, Michel Gondry, and Sarah Silverman, and, beyond all this, in a standalone volume, Nick McDonell's stunning exploration of the latest iteration of the war in Iraq—a ground-level account from within the 1st Cavalry Division. The whole thing weighs in at just under 400 pages, and comes in its own custom-made double-sleeve. It is, without a doubt, a beaut.

Issue 38 is due to be a real beauty, with stories pulled in from all over the world—a grand tour, in prose, of a dozen places you have perhaps neglected to visit, up to now. There is Ariel Dorfman in Paris, with one eye on Chile, Bisi Adjapon in Ghana, Chanan Tigay with the Israeli Arabs of the Desert Scouts Brigade, Nathaniel Rich exploring the Northeast Kingdom, and Steven Millhauser somewhere far away, deep, deep in the woods—and more stories, besides, plus a comic and color photography and a cover that'll earn you admiring glances in whatever environment you're in. Don't even think about missing this one.

This issue is a two-book package, held together by a cardboard bellyband.Our first issue of 2012 features all kinds of amazing stuff—so much, from so many good people, that we turned it into two beautiful little books. There are new stories from Neil Gaiman and Etgar Keret and David Vann (can you guess which one contains pterodactyls and Aztecs?), there is Said Sayrafiezadeh awaiting the uprising at Occupy Wall Street and a special compendium of the incredible writing that inspired the Egyptian Revolution, and, in its own volume, there is Rick Bass’s extraordinary account of a week in Rwanda—the most ambitious nonfiction piece McSweeney’s has ever run, and without a doubt one of the best essays of the year. You don’t want to miss this one!

McSweeney’s began in 1998 as a literary journal that published only works rejected from other magazines. Today, it attracts work from some of the finest writers in the country, including David Foster Wallace, Ann Cummins, Rick Moody, and William T. Vollmann. McSweeney's Issue 21 includes work by Roddy Doyle and Stephen Elliott, as well as the triumphant return of Arthur Bradford. There's also new stories (written by secretive and heretofore unknown authors) of beauty and acuity. Determined to find new voices, publish work of gifted but underappreciated writers, and push the literary form forward at all times, McSweeney's Issue 21 proves McSweeney's continued commitment to excellence.

Issue 17 is not an ordinary issue of McSweeney's. It is, however, an ordinary-looking bundle of mail, stacked and rubber-banded, containing the usual items: a recent issue of Yeti Researcher; a large envelope, called Envelope, containing fine oversized reproductions of new art; a sausage-basket catalog; a flyer for slashed prices on garments that are worn by more than one person at a time; a new magazine of experimental fiction called Unfamiliar; a couple letters... the usual. This might be the strangest and most pleasure-giving issue yet.

Issue 11 features contributions by many of your favorite McSweeney's writers, as well as a chorus of new voices. Contributors include: Tom Bissell, Sean Warren, Samantha Hunt, Robert Olmstead, T.C. Boyle, David Means, Doug Dorst, Joyce Carol Oates, A.G. Pasquella, Brent Hoff, Stephen Elliott, Daphne Beal, Denis Johnson, and many others. McSweeney's Quarterly Concern Issue 11 comes complete with a letters section and an interview with prominent scientists, in this case with those investigating the recently found colossal squid, the largest known to man.