…got recommended at Slate and Library Journal, and reviewed at Bookslut, South 85, Entropy, and BWR! (Comparisons to Borges, George Saunders and Celine Dion, oh my!) Bloggers have written about it or featured it here, here, here, and here and other places!
…it has a trailer!!!
Winner of the FC2 Ronald Sukenick Innovative Fiction Prize
Jessica Lee Richardson’s debut collection It Had Been Planned and There Were Guides teems with double magic—families of spiders, monsters in triplicate, and panels of bleacher-sitting grandfathers (who live in a diaphragm!) cohabitate with a starker, more familiar kind of strange in a hyper real and living tapestry of teenage porn stars, lovelorn factory workers, and art world auctioneers. From a woman who awakes from a short kidnapping with an unquenchable need for risk to a concrete boat ride gone off the rails, from Los Angeles to the Bronx, from the Midwest to North Korea, these stories explore the absurd in real spaces and the real in absurd spaces, seeking a way into something else entirely.
“This book has heart and heft and heat and equal doses of wonder and quirk to keep us on our toes, not knowing what might be waiting for us, not just on the next page but inside the next sentence. Richardson’s tongue is an organ of the eye. Her prose sings cleanly, her ear hears with its hand not just cupped around it but it reaches out to pull us in and hold us all a little closer.”
—Peter Markus, author of The Fish and the Not Fish, We Make Mud, and The Singing Fish
“You know how you keep that piece of paper and pen next to the bed to capture those brilliantly enriched osmotic mots justes emanating from the edge of the edge of waking sleep? And you know how the vivid quarry eludes you; how you’re left with the snare of scribbles, memories of the memory, in the morning light? The stories in Jessica Lee Richardson’s teeming It Had Been Planned and There Were Guides are goddamned Google maps of those saturated hypnopompic, hypnagogic states, rendered with such exacting detail and pristine clarity that you can do nothing more than conclude the murky margins of the world have been turned inside out and the meanest meanings ever meant are sunbathing there, plain as day.”
—Michael Martone, author of Michael Martone and Four for a Quarter
“‘Then a surprising thing happened, which is that we didn’t die.’ Jessica Lee Richardson’s brief, jagged, lit-up stories present a world of precarity in which the precincts of the sentence propel the protagonists towards and away from peril with the capriciousness of wanton gods: ‘I dropped through the trap door at the bottom of the bottom and came out on top.’ In this world of prodigious and acute risk, in which every angel is drug tested and Baby Girl Bristol reads the writing on the wall, radiant hyperfluency is both a necessary skill and an interface through which all the toxic mediumicity of our present moment can flood. ‘I looked in the mirror and it was like I could see the halo. Now I have Beyoncé in my head. Google.’ Amen.”
—Joyelle McSweeney, author of Salamandrine: 8 Gothics and Dead Youth, or, The Leaks