Posts Tagged ‘subscriptions’
July 27, 2016 | by The Paris Review
Book clubs make life better. They strengthen friendships. They broaden horizons. They provide an airtight excuse for wine and cheese. And ideally they lead to unforgettable conversations. The one trouble with book clubs—in our experience—is finding stuff that interests everyone, and that none of the group has read.
We can help with that. If your book club reads fiction, sign up now and receive a 25 percent discount on subscriptions to The Paris Review. We have the newest and best in fiction. In just the past few years we’ve published writers like Emma Cline, Ottessa Moshfegh, Ben Lerner, Angela Flournoy, Rachel Kushner, Rachel Cusk—before they were best sellers or critics’ picks. The stories in every issue are ripe for discussion: up to the moment, provocative, and fraught with questions of intimacy, family, morality, aging, and generally just living life in the early twenty-first century. (And that’s not even taking our interviews into consideration.) As Kirkus put it, there’s “a searing reality present” in The Paris Review “that feels wholly different from the kind of writing we all consume on a daily basis.”
If you’re in a book club with six readers or more, you can get your discount today. Here’s how:
- Have everyone in your group send an e-mail to email@example.com
with the same subject line. (The name of your town, the title of the last book you read—whatever.)
- We’ll send you and your friends a custom promotion code; you can all use it at our online store to redeem your discounted subscriptions.
(Teachers: if you’d like to have your students read and discuss The Paris Review in your classroom, send a note to firstname.lastname@example.org
April 29, 2016 | by The Paris Review
Attention, shoppers: This is your last chance to get a dual subscription to The Paris Review and Lucky Peach, our favorite food journal. That’s one year of the best in literature and the best in food writing for only $50. The deal ends on April 30, so if you’ve been waiting to subscribe until, say, you’re a little hungrier, you should reconsider. You’re probably hungry enough right now. Subscribe here.
April 4, 2016 | by The Paris Review
Here’s a fact about serious readers: all of them eat. Every last one. And many of them eat multiple times a day.
With this in mind, our shrewd Department of Cross-Promotions is bringing you the perfect deal: a dual subscription to The Paris Review and Lucky Peach, our favorite food journal. That’s one year of the best in literature and the best in food writing for only $50.
We’ve long admired Lucky Peach, which combines some of our favorite ingredients: bold writing, fresh new voices, and an irreverent interest in what and how we eat. We never miss an issue. And we’re proud to say they read us, too, for the best in contemporary fiction, poetry, and interviews. We’ve even shared some writers over the years, like John Jeremiah Sullivan, our Southern editor, whose Lucky Peach essay “I Placed a Jar in Tennessee” won the James Beard Foundation’s MFK Fisher Distinguished Writing Award. Or Ottessa Moshfegh, our 2014 Plimpton Prize winner, who took to Lucky Peach to remember the mayonnaise (or lack thereof) of her youth. Or Alison Kinney, who wrote about the history of Icelandic sagas for the Daily and the history of chocolate eggs for Lucky Peach.
Now, after years of mutual eating and reading, we’ve finally formalized the arrangement. Start your joint subscription now and get two great magazines for one low price. Hurry—this deal is only available through April 30.
November 27, 2015 | by The Paris Review
Starting today, if you give your favorite reader a subscription to The Paris Review, we’ll include a free copy of our new anthology, The Unprofessionals: New American Writing from The Paris Review—a $16 value.
Elle calls The Unprofessionals “a cri de coeur against literary credentialism, mixing short stories, essays, and poems by established writers such as Zadie Smith, Brenda Shaughnessy, and John Jeremiah Sullivan with work by lesser-known scribes ranging from their midtwenties to midforties.” The Atlantic calls it “a dispatch from the front lines of literature.” We call it the best stocking stuffer of 2015.
Gift subscriptions for a year of The Paris Review—the best in fiction, poetry, essays, and art—are only $40. Buy yours before December 10 to guarantee arrival before Christmas! (And don’t be afraid to get one for yourself.)
September 15, 2015 | by The Paris Review
This November, we’re publishing our first anthology of new writing in more than fifty years. The Unprofessionals: New American Writing from The Paris Review features thirty-one stories, poems, and essays by a new generation of writer. Leslie Jamison calls it “electric”: “I got to encounter voices I already loved and fall in love with writers I’d never read, got to realize this would be the day I’d always remember as the day I read them first.”
Now through November 16, you can preorder The Unprofessionals from our online store for just $12—a 25 percent discount from the cover price. Click here to reserve your copy!
August 11, 2015 | by Sadie Stein
Somewhere in the world, there must be people who actually take a moment to unsubscribe from all those e-mails—newsletters and sale alerts and publicity blasts—that clutter their inboxes. Rather, I mean, than simply deleting them every single day. One doesn’t like to calculate the time costs of these things; it’s too depressing. It’s best to avoid the implications.
There are the discount offers, of course. Don’t we all get those? Dirt-cheap massages! Flash sales! Exorbitant shoes made merely overpriced! And wait—the sale has been extended! Here’s the Project Runway contestant you started following nine years ago because you were so moved by his tears when he was told to pack his things. And the headache-prevention newsletter you never seem to get around to reading; wouldn’t it hurt that aging hippie’s feelings if you unsubscribed? Surely she’d notice. Remember the one time you attended an adult Christian-education class at that Episcopal Church? They do. You think of the unhappy example of the Yiddish class you dropped out of in 2004. You were on that guy’s mailing list until he died last year. Read More »