antoine wilson
A long time ago, when I was just a tadpole, I read a book called V. by Thomas Pynchon, and it helped me decide–along with The New York Trilogy by Paul Auster and Another Country by James Baldwin–to set aside my premed studies and pursue writing exclusively.
And so way back then, when I saw a first edition of V. at Brentwood’s (now gone) Vagabond Books, with a torn and faded dust jacket, I saved up the $100 to buy it.
I couldn’t really afford it, and I doubted it would grow much in value, considering the condition, but it’s a purchase I have never regretted.
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panorama city (available now)
buy a copy:
indiebound
powells
amazon
barnes & noble
"THIS IS A BOOK YOU WILL HOLD IN YOUR HEAD ALL DAY LONG, A BOOK YOU WILL LOOK FORWARD TO WHEN YOU GET HOME FROM WORK, A BOOK YOU WILL STILL BE SAVORING AS YOU DRIFT INTO SLEEP. IT IS FILLED WITH JOY AND WONDER, AND A SORT OF GOODNESS YOU HAD STOPPED BELIEVING MIGHT BE EVEN POSSIBLE."
- PETER CAREY
antoine wilson * ** ***
* not my surfboard
** not my dog
*** not my apartment
the interloper
"As assured and sumptuously written as any first novel I’ve encountered....This is writing at its very best."
- T.C. Boyle
Awesome. I read V. when I was just a tadpole, too. On a semester abroad in Florence. I’d already decided, thanks to Faulkner and Hemingway, that I wanted to do this writing thing, but my memories of reading that book are as vivid as any from the time I spent in Italy.