Bookslut championed independent publishers and wrote about things not too many people care about. You can’t do that anymore. (Well, nothing’s stopping you, but your bank account says nyet.) A stylish megaphone for little-heard voices, the Bookslut blog made publishers and writers believe there was an Amazonian army of loose fictionistas, just waiting to be plied with the latest stunner of a debut novel. It was nice while it lasted, which was right up until about HTML 5. Begun in 2002 Bookslut had a long healthy life, maintaining her dignity while those around her chased the next new things like Vine and Instagram. But all good things must — well, you know.
So Bookslut closes the coffin lid on an era during which literature had its last Internet gasp. Because if Bookslut doesn’t care anymore, nobody does — despite what you may read at the admirable The Millions. (Note: Make that thing you’re writing into a musical — and start with the chorus.) The May issue will be Bookslut’s last. Jessa Crispin, the elegant talented innovative lit liaison and author who invented Bookslut, has had enough. You’ll have to find another place to see ads pitching an MFA in creative writing. Crispin told Vulture the real reason she finally shut it down: “It was getting a little embarrassing.”
