The editors' favorites will be published in icon's February 2010 issue, and the grand champ (chosen we're-not-sure-how) gets a free one-year subscription and a copy of Thomas Pynchon's Inherent Vice. So start writing! (But take your time because, you know, it's just 100 words, how hard could it be?)

• Where'd you get the money for that motorcycle?

Well, if you want to call Stephen King “literature”.

As luck would have it, this happy news coincides (more or less) with New York City's First Independent Bookstore Week, which runs November 15 to 21. There are events at indie bookstores all over the city (click here for a schedule), but even before the festivities begin another Dumbo bookshop, powerHouse Arena, is hosting the opening party tomorrow with live music, food and drink, a raffle and an impressive slate of speakers including authors Kurt Andersen, Michael Greenberg and Jennifer Egan, and Macmillan CEO John Sargent. Click here for details and RSVP info.

Which brings us to this grumpy-ass piece at Guernica by Honduran-in-exile writer Horacio Castellanos Moya. Moya's upset that North Americans occasionally drop lit-star Roberto Bolaño's name, and thinks, grumpily, that:

...the construction of the Bolaño myth was not only a publisher’s marketing operation but also a redefinition of the image of Latin American culture and literature that the North American cultural establishment is now selling to the public.

I am wary of any argument that cites a "North American cultural establishment" acting with the sort of predatory agency that's implied here. But let's, for a moment, concede that the NACE [pronounced Nah-tsee] supreme council came up with a unified plan to profit from a densely challenging 670-page work of metafiction-in-translation by a charismatic/dead Mexican-Chilean. Yes, let's.

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The current issue of Harper's reprints, in the Readings section, "Adult Situations", by Brett Fletcher Lauer, a poet and friend of the L. It's a found literary object, of sorts: a poem comprised of movie synopses drawn, occasionally slightly paraphrased, from online viewer guides such the imdb TV listings, and places like this. (Sample: "Rival reporters mix romance with work as they hunt an apartment-house killer.") It's a terrific compendium of inadvertent artistry and endlessly suggestive description. (It's also rather reminiscent of John Ashbery's "They Knew What They Wanted", in which every line is a movie title.)

The poem was originally printed in the lit mag jubilat, and in fact is online there now. Go, read it, and then come back.

Now, if you are like me, you probably took a minute to appreciate the piece, but mostly tried to figure out which movie each line describes. Some of them are comically straightforward descriptions of classics; there's some straight-to-cable dreck, soon-to-be-forgotten recent releases, and neglected late-show classics. So, as a public service, we have provided an answer key for you, after the jump. (In the interests of full disclosure, I correctly guessed 10 of the movies. You?)

There is a launch, tomorrow, with a kid-lit reading in the morning, and a reading and free champagne toast in the evening. And then, presumably, they'll keep funneling more and more alcohol down your gullet until you can't help but buy everything you see, and the evening descends into a free-for-all, well-dressed young parents clawing at each other for the last copies of The Elegance of the Hedgehog, chaos reigns.

Mead discusses the evolution of Sweet Valley High into Gossip Girl—"'We thought consumer were more sophisticated... They wanted their book to feel like Mom's book... with a cover that looked like it didn't have to come from the kids' section... and it wasn't embarrassing to be seen with,'" says Alloy's President—but one thing Mead doesn't go into is the ever-increasing adult readership for Y.A. literature. But looking at the Gossip Girl TV show's target audience, the subway ubiquity of Twilight and Harry Potter, et cetera, had me thinking again about Where the Wild Things Are—"There is no difference between childhood and adulthood" being an operating principle for this film that cozies up to the sensibilities and sensitivities of twentysomethings making less than a wholehearted commitment to adulthood.

My Mom doesn't use a computer, so every now and then I have to print out online stuff I've written and put it together in a little package. Does this mean that printed matter will always be around? I don't know, but the artists at the New York Art Book Fair certainly have an opinon.

Filmed and edited by Emmanuel Cruz.