Category: Literature (Page 6 of 9)

Why the “This Meets That” Pitch Doesn’t Work

April 23, 2018 /

“It’s Star Wars meets Weekend at Bernie’s.”

“It’s Birdman meets Serial.”

“It’s Dashiell Hammett meets Kelly Link.”

Have you seen this style of pitch before? I have. I call it the “this meets that” pitch. I’m sick of it, and today I’d like to tell you why. Okay, here goes. I have a feeling this is going to be a controversial post…

“This Meets That” is Simplistic

Every work of art is unique, and yours is no exception. You’ve worked hard on it. You’ve rearranged, refined, iterated, and improved your story, likely over the course of months (or even years). The “this meets that” pitch oversimplifies all your hard work.

To put it another way, imagine someone pitched the sport of volleyball as “basketball meets tennis.” Not a bad comparison; Spiking a volleyball is similar to blocking a shot in basketball, and both volleyball and tennis involve hitting a ball over a net. But volleyball is about way more than spiking and a net. “This meets that” omits the subtleties that make the sport its own. It does the same to your story.

“This Meets That” is Risky

You know that picture of a young woman and an old woman combined? At first, you might only see one of the two. Yet when someone points out the other figure, you’ll likely notice it every time you see the picture. Once you see it, you can’t un-see it.

The same principle applies to your story. When you use “this meets that,” readers will constantly conflate your work with two others. What if your readers detest the stories you mentioned? What if your readers never heard of them? What if they feel your story doesn’t live up to the comparison? Describing your work in terms of others exposes it to unnecessary risk. And pitching a story should not be like rolling a dice.

“This Meets That” Doesn’t Age Well

At the risk of sounding like an old dude, storytelling is way different than it was back in my day. Modern books, movies, and TV shows spawn at an incredible rate. This hyper-production places greater importance on the new and the current. In 2008, “The Hunger Games meets Paper Towns“ might’ve made for a decent pitch. But 10 years later, that same description won’t carry the meaning it once did.

Similarly, if I pitched “Stranger Things meets A Quiet Place” today, that might get readers’ attention. But let’s say someone comes across that same pitch a few years from now. Stranger Things might be off the air and A Quiet Place might only exist on select streaming services. In other words, your “this meets that pitch” might become meaningless sooner than you think.

In Conclusion

The Mona Lisa is so much more than “paint meets canvas.” Likewise, our works are more than amalgams of others. Instead of focusing on how our stories are similar to previous stories, I believe we should highlight what makes them different. That, in my opinion, is the key to a great pitch.

Kyle A. Massa is a speculative fiction author living somewhere in upstate New York with his fiancee and their two cats. His stories have appeared in numerous online magazines, including Allegory, Chantwood, and Dark Fire Fiction.



Originality is Overrated

March 26, 2018 /

There, I said it. This is a thought I’ve had for a while now, though it’s been difficult to find the right words to express it. I hope I’ve found them here.

As writers, the works of other writers are equal parts inspiration and limitation. Stephen King might inspire you to become a horror writer, yet you might avoid writing a novel set in a haunted hotel. That would be too much like The Shining, right? It wouldn’t be original.

You know what? Screw originality. Write what you want!

So many writers decide not to pursue ideas simply because they believe it’s already been done. But so what? If your idea’s been done before, do it differently. Do it better. Do it with that personal touch only you can provide.

I’ll give you an example. One of my best friends told me he always had this idea for a story. You know the theory that humans only use a small percentage of their brain power? In my friend’s story, he imagined a character who takes experimental drugs which grant him access to the rest of his brain. This character develops hyper intelligence and extrasensory perception.

However, my friend told me he’d never write this story. Why? Because of the film Limitless. If you haven’t seen it, it’s almost exactly the same idea my friend had.

Hearing this really bummed me out. My friend was so excited about this story, yet the film killed his dream of writing it. I’m sure you’ve observed (or even personally experienced) a similar phenomenon.

Want my opinion (even though it’s not entirely original)? A similar existing work should never, ever stop you from working on a great idea.

The film Limitless, by the way, is based on a novel called The Dark Fields by Alan Glynn. But did you know that Ted Chiang published a similar story a decade earlier entitled Understand? His was also about a normal guy who took a drug that granted supernatural intelligence. And if we go back even further to 1959, we’ll find Daniel Keyes’s Flowers for Algernon, yet another story about a scientifically sharpened intellect.

Though the methods and general mechanics might vary from story to story, each bears a core similarity to the others. I don’t necessarily agree with those who claim there are no original ideas. I just think writers can always find ways to take existing ideas and make them their own.

We see this all the time in fiction. People say dragons are overdone in fantasy, yet George R.R. Martin writes A Song of Ice and Fire and suddenly they’re resurrected. People say you can’t do anything original with zombies anymore, and then The Girl with All the Gifts becomes a hit.

Don’t let an existing story preclude you from writing something amazing. If your idea is similar to another, make it your own. Put your personal spin on it. Most important of all, write it.

Originality is overrated. But individual creativity—now that’s something to strive for.

Kyle A. Massa is a speculative fiction author living somewhere in upstate New York with his fiancee and their two cats. His stories have appeared in numerous online magazines, including Allegory, Chantwood, and Dark Fire Fiction. To stay current with Kyle’s work, subscribe to his email newsletter. He promises not to spam you.

The Gunslinger

The Gunslinger and Character Backstory

February 19, 2018 /

The Gunslinger

When writing characters, where do you start? Maybe a name, or a physical description, or some basic personality traits. Before long you’ll probably wonder how your character got the way he or she is now. Which is why it’s important for the story to start before it actually starts, if you get my meaning. That means character backstory.

Take, for example, Roland Deschain from Stephen King’s The Gunslinger. He’s a sombre, soft-spoken, mysterious type, and you probably would be too if you had a childhood like his—Roland’s mom was sleeping with his dad’s top advisor, for god’s sake. In fact, Roland’s past is so important to his present that we need to see it up close and personal. That means backstory.

But offering details on a character’s background is tricky. Constant flashbacks interrupt the flow of a progressing story, and dropping little details into the narrative can sometimes come across as expository. For example, Character A says, “Remember when you had more fingers?” Character B frowns and says, “Sure. I’ll never look at blenders the same way again.”

Of course these characters remember that moment. In fact, the only thing a writer does by including this exchange is tell reader exactly what’s going on. Which is about as subtle as a slap to the face.

King, however, handles the backstory of The Gunslinger perfectly. It’s a novel that’s very much about the past, a novel where each character is shaped and motivated by events which happened long before. These events are so important, in fact, that it won’t suffice to reference them through dialogue or brief description. So here’s what King does, and does very well: He references characters we’ve never met before, then explains who those characters are in subsequent flashbacks.

For example, a boy from New York City named Jake Chambers suddenly appears in the Roland’s world without explanation. Jake tells Roland that he can’t remember anything about how he got there, so we’re left to wonder. That, however, would be quite the fraying loose end. So King gives us a brief flashback.

Fortunately, it’s not just a flashback for the sake of a flashback. We learn two very important details from it: One, that Jake died before coming to the gunslinger’s world, and that is perhaps why he’s there. And two, that Jake was somehow sent there by the man in black, who is the gunslinger’s arch nemesis (excuse the lack of actual names—it’s all about the mystery, baby).

I’m drawn to this aspect of King’s novel because I struggle a lot with character backstory in my writing. It’s hard to know what to give and when to give it, but it’s a skill that can be developed through practice and careful study of the pros.

Kyle A. Massa is a speculative fiction author living somewhere in upstate New York with his fiancee and their two cats. His stories have appeared in numerous online magazines, including Allegory, Chantwood, and Dark Fire Fiction. To stay current with Kyle’s work, subscribe to his email newsletter. He promises not to spam you.

My Favorite Books of 2017

December 26, 2017 /
With 2017 in the rear-view and 2018 on the horizon, I figure now’s as good a time as any to share with you my favorite books I read this past year. Hope you enjoy them as much as I did!

Consider the Lobster by David Foster Wallace

From Amazon

David Foster Wallace was an excellent writer and a really brilliant guy. Though his life was cut tragically short, we’re fortunate enough to still have his writing. If you’d like to get acquainted with that writing, consider Consider the Lobster. This collection includes essays and articles on a variety of subjects, including the Maine Lobster Festival, crappy sports biographies, pornography, and why John Updike was a bonafide narcissist. Plus, Wallace writes about 40 pages on English language style guides, which is itself an impressive feat.

The Sirens of Titan by Kurt Vonnegut

From Amazon

This book is almost sixty years old, so I’m not exactly telling anyone anything new by saying that it’s good. But The Sirens of Titan represents Vonnegut at the top of his game, as far as I’m concerned. He blends social commentary, religion, war, and politics all into one, with his trademark humor and wit to match. My favorite line from this book: “Theology: Someone created the universe for some reason.”

The Drawing of the Three by Stephen King

From Amazon

I don’t read a lot of series these days, but I’ll make an exception for The Dark Tower. As the second entry in the series, this is a really beautiful continuation of an outstanding start. The originality and sheer weirdness of the book are excellent, as are the plot and characters. Though it’s a somewhat lengthy book at 400 pages, it goes fast.

Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood

From Amazon

Prior to this novel, the only other Margaret Atwood I’d read was Negotiating with the Dead. I didn’t particularly care for that one, so I wasn’t quite sure what to expect from Oryx and Crake. I loved it. This is a book about a guy named Snowman, who lives in a withered version of the world without many humans or resources. The narrative shifts back and forth between Snowman’s present and past, showing how he and the world became what they are now. A word of warning: once you read this book and find out what “ChickieNobs” are, you’re unlikely to ever eat at KFC again.

Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel

From Amazon

Another book about a post-civilization future, though it’s more likely you’ve heard of this one before. Station Eleven has gotten a lot of national attention, and for good reason. After disease tears through the human population, an acting troupe travels the world performing Shakespeare’s plays. That’s just the main plot, though. In a wider sense, this book is about legacy, religion, art, and survival. The author, Emily St. John Mandel, does some fancy footwork with the narrative by flipping back and forth in time. While it takes a while to get used to, I loved this style because one sees how the characters connect, how certain artifacts got into the hands of others, and more. Very neat story. If you’re looking for books to read in the new year, I recommend these. Have a wonderful 2018!
Kyle A. Massa is a speculative fiction author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife and their two cats. His stories have appeared in numerous online magazines, including Allegory, Chantwood, and Dark Fire Fiction. His debut novel, Gerald Barkley Rocks, is available now on Amazon Kindle.

Floating Castle

Why the Divide Between Speculative Fiction and Literature?

November 27, 2017 /

Floating Castle

Literature | ˈlit(ə)rəCHər | noun | Written works, especially those considered of superior or lasting artistic merit. – New Oxford American Dictionary

According to a certain stuffy pocket of the literary community, science fiction, fantasy, and horror, collectively known as speculative fiction, don’t qualify as literature. Decent stories? Maybe. Cool ideas? Sure. But in the eyes of this snobbish literary elite, speculative fiction just doesn’t measure up to stuff like The Grapes of Wrath and Moby Dick. 

Would you ever read Moby Dick willingly? Yeah, neither would I.

Take the 2003 National Book Awards as an example. That year’s winner was none other than Stephen King, who of course mainly writes horror. The literary elite wasted no time in attacking him, no doubt because he’s just a lowly genre writer. Here’s a quite from critic Harold Bloom.

“The decision to give the National Book Foundation’s annual award for ‘distinguished contribution’ to Stephen King is extraordinary, another low in the shocking process of dumbing down our cultural life. I’ve described King in the past as a writer of penny dreadfuls, but perhaps even that is too kind. He shares nothing with Edgar Allan Poe. What he is is an immensely inadequate writer on a sentence-by-sentence, paragraph-by-paragraph, book-by-book basis.”

You forgot chapter-by-chapter, Harry, but whatever. I disagree with you.

In an episode of my favorite podcast, The Geek’s Guide to the Galaxy, host David Barr Kirtley led a panel on this very debate. Recorded to promote Best American Science Fiction and Fantasy 2015, edited by John Joseph Adams and Joe Hill, the panel featured such influential SF figures as Adams, Hill, Carmen Maria Machado, Seanan McGuire, and Jess Row.

It’s interesting; Adams and Hill have starkly different opinions on the purpose of the volume. On the one hand, John Joseph Adams thinks of Best American Science Fiction and Fantasy as a vehicle for speculative fiction to prove its worth to the literary mainstream. In his own words:

“I and other science fiction fans believe that the best science fiction and fantasy is on par with or better than any other genre. My goal with The Best American Science Fiction and Fantasy was to prove that.”

Joe Hill, however, argues that speculative fiction has already merged with literature, and that it did so a long time ago.

“The instruments of science fiction and fantasy—the tools in that genre toolbox—have been out there in the literary world and being explored for at least a decade now, in work by people like Jonathan Lethem, Michael Chabon, Margaret Atwood, and Cormac McCarthy. Science fiction and fantasy is part of the literary mainstream, and has been for a while now.”

At first glance, Hill’s argument resonated more with me. There are so many novels out there—The Road, Fahrenheit 451, Cloud Atlas, and 1984, just to name a few—that are generally considered literary, non-genre works, yet are so clearly speculative fiction that it’s difficult to argue otherwise.

The more I’ve thought about this debate, the more I’ve started to like a decidedly different answer.

Why doesn’t the literary mainstream accept speculative fiction?

Why does it matter?

Let’s refer back to our definition of literature for a second. In the grand scheme of things, does The Lord of the Rings have “superior or lasting merit”? I’d say so. Since the trilogy’s publication in 1954, it’s been an enduring classic for generation upon generation. It’s been translated into 38 different languages (not sure if Tengwar counts there). Furthermore, it’s a story about enduring human ideas: friendship, tyranny, power, greed, love.

Does The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy have lasting merit? Does Dracula? Does Slaughterhouse Five? 

If you’ve ever read any of those books, you already know the answer.

Truth is, we don’t need to speak up for speculative fiction. Speculative fiction speaks for itself.

 

 

Are you a fan of speculative fiction? Me too. Check out some of my speculative work here.

Writer

Vonnegut, King, Rushdie, and the Art of the Opening Line

November 13, 2017 /

Writer

Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse Five, widely considered a literary classic, starts with a simple sentence:

“All this happened, more or less.”

Isn’t that an amazing first line?

Now we’re not all Kurt Vonnegut (okay, none of us are), but we can still learn from the guy.

Why is this line so good? It sets the tone: satirical, somewhat detached, and spare. Thousand-page tomes are all well and good, but concise and precise literature is oftentimes even better.

Of course, there are many ways to start a story. Stephen King’s opening lines, for instance, often display a distinct style. Here’s the first sentence of King’s short story “The Monkey”:

“When Hal Shelburn saw it, when his son Dennis pulled it out of a mouldering Ralston-Purina carton that had been pushed far back under one attic eave, such a feeling of horror and dismay rose in him that for one moment he thought he would scream.”

King takes a slightly different approach than Vonnegut, though I think it’s no less effective. The first sentence of Slaughterhouse Five serves to set the tone for the rest of the novel. King, on the other hand, often starts with a character, sometimes several, and a situation. In our example, we’ve got Hal Shelburn, a father, and his son, Dennis. Dennis just pulled something awfully creepy out of a corner of the attic. What is this thing? Why is it so scary? The only way to find out is to read on. And that’s what makes it so effective.

For a third example, let’s turn to the great Salman Rushdie. His controversial 1988 novel The Satanic Verses begins thusly:

“‘To be born again,’ sang Gibreel Farishta tumbling from the heavens, ‘first you have to die.'”

This sentence is sick.

There’s a lot going on here. We have an element of fantasy introduced: the process of resurrection. We have a main character who is perhaps offering wisdom to another character. We also have the exciting image of a man “tumbling from the heavens.” How did he get there? Who is he singing to? Why the heck would a guy who’s falling from the sky be singing? There’s only one way to find out…

The best first sentences grab our interest, make us wonder, and invite us into the story. They might address tone or character or action or any number of other story elements, but, it seems to me, they all do one thing: demand us to read the rest.

Why You Should Read More Short Stories

August 28, 2017 /

In the mood to read something a little different? Short stories might be just what you’re looking for.

Okay, you know short stories are shorter than novels. But they aren’t just about brevity. They’re also easily digestible, often unconventional, and uniquely indicative of an author’s strengths. Let’s go deep on this topic.

Short Stories Can Be Finished in One Sitting

If you have limited reading time, committing to a novel could prove difficult. It would be like watching a movie thirty minutes at a time. You might even forget who’s who!

Short stories are often designed to be read in one session. If you’re an infrequent or sporadic reader, this spares you confusion when you sit down to read. Plus, you get a new experience every single time you open your book, e-reader, or computer. (Or whatever the kids read on these days.)

Short Stories Defy Conventions

Short stories are generally weirder than long-form narrative. This is due to a couple factors.

First, techniques that might grow tiresome in a longer narrative become more palatable in smaller doses. Examples include second-person narration, atypical point of views, or present tense. It might be difficult to sustain any one of these techniques for a few hundred pages. But in a short story, they provide a refreshing change of pace.

Second, short stories generally require less commercial appeal than novels. Since the readership for short stories isn’t especially large, writers can afford to be a bit zanier than usual. If you enjoy writers pushing the envelope on what a story can be, you’ll enjoy short stories.

Short Stories Showcase a Writer’s Skill

This opinion is completely unfounded and totally based on my own personal feelings. And yes, there are tons of great writers who’ve never written a short story. But I really do feel that someone who writes good short stories is usually a stronger writer than someone who doesn’t.

When you read an author’s short fiction collection, you’ll discover not one great idea, but many. It’s the difference between a hit single and an entire album; sure, you might be able to strike gold once, then make a living off copies of what’s already worked. But those who can frequently diverge from where they started are often far more interesting.

Parting Thoughts

I do hope I’ve convinced you to read some more short stories. If you’re ready to do so, here are some of my favorites. Check them out!

  • “The Dowager of Bees” by China Mieville
  • “I Can See Right Through You” by Kelly Link
  • “The Great Silence” by Ted Chiang (Note: This is one of the only stories I’ve ever read, short or long, that has ever made me cry.)
  • “Black Dog” by Neil Gaiman
  • “Good Country People” by Flannery O’Connor
  • “Sandkings” by George R.R. Martin
  • “Escape from Spiderhead” by George Saunders
  • “Walkdog” by Sofia Samatar
  • “Unbelievable” by Kyle A. Massa (Yes, this is a shameless plug.)

“It Wasn’t Like the Book”

July 31, 2017 /

From The Wild Hunt

Trending now: screen adaptations of popular speculative fiction novels. It started with HBO’s Game of Thrones, continued with SyFy’s The Expanse and Hulu’s The Handmaid’s Tale. It will continue to continue with the upcoming film adaptation of The Dark Tower. 

Notice a glaring omission from that list? Me too. I haven’t mentioned Starz’s adaptation of the greatest novel in the English language, American Gods. 

Okay, that might be an overstatement. But American Gods really is my favorite book, and as such, I was really excited about the series.

When adaptations are based on popular properties, expectations certainly run high. One thing I’ve noticed: In book to screen adaptations, people use one particular piece of criticism over and over: “It wasn’t like the book.”

I’ve always found that fascinating. The clear implication is that adaptations are best when they’re identical to the book—or pretty darn close. Just ask Harry Potter fans.

However, I’d like to offer a friendly counterpoint to the “it’s not like the book” argument. Sometimes, adaptations are best when they aren’t like the book.

Let’s start with Starz’s American Gods. This series has numerous obvious differences between it and its source material. But I think these differences make the show able to stand on its own.

For one, I love how the show expands upon side characters from the novel. Salim, for example, is a young Muslim man who appears in just one scene of the novel and has no influence on the main plot. In the show, however, he becomes a main character who drives the story forward (literally). Or Mad Sweeney, the gruff leprechaun who appears in just a hand full of scenes in the book. The series Sweeney becomes a main character and one of my absolute favorites. Or Laura Moon, resurrected corpse and former wife of Shadow, the story’s main character. The show devotes an entire episode to her backstory, showing how she and Shadow met. The series Laura has depth that even Laura from the novel did not have.

When I watch a series, I want a new experience. I would’ve been bored if everything played out exactly how it did in the book. I want to see characters I recognize, but I want to see them expanded upon. I want to see a story I recognize, only with different twists. After all, I’m watching American Gods the show, not reading American Gods the novel. If I wanted the same experience as the book, I’d just read the book!

On the other hand, adaptations must tread carefully when deviating from their source material. While the series version of American Gods alters and expands upon some events from the book, they all feel true to Neil Gaiman’s story—due in no small part to his involvement with the series. The challenge for the adapter is to produce a product that feels new while retaining the tastiest ingredients of the original.

When I watch a screen adaptation, I’m looking for a new experience. In that regard, American Gods has been a huge success. The series builds upon the foundation of the novel without simply reproducing the original. It isn’t like the book. And that’s a good thing.

Pulp Fiction and the Advantages of Being Ambiguous

July 10, 2017 /

Pulp Fiction Logo

“The greater the ambiguity, the greater the pleasure.” – Milan Kundera

My fiancee and I just watched Pulp Fiction the other day, her for the first time and me for the hundredth, approximately.

If you haven’t seen it yet, go see it! And if you’ve seen it already, watch it again. Don’t worry, I’ll wait for you.

… You good? Good.

I’ve got a question for you: what did you think of the briefcase? You know, the one Jules (Samuel L. Jackson) and Vincent (John Travolta) recover from those guys in that apartment. The one that shines golden light upon the face of everyone who opens it. The one that we never discover the contents of.

For me, that briefcase is the best part of the movie. It’s pretty much the center of Jules and Vincent’s storyline, yet we don’t even know exactly what’s so great about it.

Isn’t that brilliant? I mean, let’s imagine for a second what could’ve been inside. Money, maybe? Sure. But isn’t that exactly what you’d expect to see? In a mobster movie, there’s probably nothing used more than a suitcase full of neatly-stacked hundred dollar bills. Imagine how disappointing that would be.

Okay, then maybe it’s something a little less cliche. Writer/director Quentin Tarantino stated that in an earlier draft, the briefcase contained a whole lot of diamonds. Which works a little better than money, but pretty much means the same thing.

The more I think about it, the more I like this idea: no matter what they might’ve shown us, nothing would’ve been as effective as showing us nothing at all. Instead of being given an answer, we’re presented with a question. We as the audience are asked by the filmmaker to provide our own explanations. We can’t help but wonder what would leave Vince Vega momentarily speechless, or leave Tim Roth’s character so awed.

As a result, the briefcase has become one of the most hotly debated topics among fans of the film. There are all sorts of great theories on what might be inside, ranging from a nuclear warhead to Marsellus Wallace’s soul to the physical manifestation of violence itself. No matter how unlikely the theory, no one can really prove or disprove anything. That’s the power of ambiguity: it allows us to fill in the blanks with whatever we like best.

Of course, the challenge with ambiguity is using the proper amount. The briefcase only works because we know enough about it to speculate. It’s obviously something very important, something that people are positively enchanted by. There’s an eerie golden light emanating from within. And the lock combination is, famously, the number 666.

Come on. I know you have some theories of your own, here. When ambiguity works, it works because the question is more interesting than any possible answers. That’s definitely the case with the briefcase in Pulp Fiction. 

Kyle A. Massa is a speculative fiction author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife and their two cats. His stories have appeared in numerous online magazines, including Allegory, Chantwood, and Dark Fire Fiction. His debut novel, Gerald Barkley Rocks, is available now on Amazon Kindle.

Why I Love Goodreads

June 23, 2017 /

Goodreads

Ever heard of Goodreads? It’s sort of like social media for books.

Here’s how it works: you create a free profile for yourself, including what genres you enjoy and who your favorite authors are. You enter any books you’re reading or have read, then share those books with other Goodreads friends.

But what else makes it so great? Here’s a quick rundown:

Track Your Progress

Think of it like Fitbit for reading. Goodreads shows you exactly what percentage of a book you’ve completed. If you sync with your Kindle, your profile automatically updates the percentage for you. If you read books the old-fashioned way (I know I do), you can manually update your progress on their mobile app. Either way, it’s even more satisfying than checking your steps at the end of the day.

Get Recommendations

Goodreads analyzes books you like, then suggests similar titles you might enjoy. This is a great way to discover new authors you might never have heard of before. And since there are thousands of books in the database, you’ll have no shortage of stuff to choose from.

In addition, Goodreads is the perfect place to find out what your friends are reading. You’ll be updated on their current book, along with any comments they make on it. Once they’re finished, you’ll also be able to find out how many stars they gave it. It’s a great way to find out which books are great (and which ones aren’t so great).

Save Books for Later

If you’re an avid reader, your to-read list might reach the moon. Goodreads lets you consolidate—and save some time, while you’re at it—using their nifty scanner feature.

With the Goodreads mobile app, you can scan the barcode of any book using your phone’s camera. In seconds, the app pulls the book’s title, author, and book cover for later viewing. Perfect for the avid bookstore browser.

In Conclusion…

…Try Goodreads! It’s a super-fun app for anyone who loves reading. And feel free to send me a friend request. One can never know too many book lovers!

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