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Like It Matters
Every Bloomsday, six male writer reader drinker friends meet at a South Philly bar to talk about life and literature and to celebrate the idea of the masterpiece. All are frustrated to the point of desperation. But this Bloomsday is different: one of the most celebrated younger writers in the world is expected to join them.
It’s about ambition, creation, delusion, success, failure, submission, acceptance, rejection, idiocy, anger, idealism, persistence, and the excessive consumption of exceptional beer. It’s also about walking and reading, the gestation of literary and literal offspring, and the joys and sorrows of writing with intent to publish.
*
“Forges in the smithy of its soul the uncreated conscience of the disillusioned fiction writer.”
—Lao Guardian, author of One with Nature
“Sui generis! Condenses, in an expansive way, a lifetime’s reflections on reading, writing, drinking, and being stuck in one’s head while out in the world.”
—Addison Oates, author of Death by Jacaranda
“Riffage FTW. Almost funny at times. Surprisingly loveable characters (especially that poor boy from the Great Northeast).”
—Kevin Snare, author of Shattering Windows with Rocks
“Audacity, authority, execution, oomph, and—when it comes to the bit about quitting writing—maybe even some heft.”
—Francis Gibson, author of A Birth at Home
“Undiscourageably diffuse.”
—John England, author of Restoration Road
“Not much happens until the end but it’s worth the wait.”
—Jonathan David Grooms
It’s about ambition, creation, delusion, success, failure, submission, acceptance, rejection, idiocy, anger, idealism, persistence, and the excessive consumption of exceptional beer. It’s also about walking and reading, the gestation of literary and literal offspring, and the joys and sorrows of writing with intent to publish.
*
“Forges in the smithy of its soul the uncreated conscience of the disillusioned fiction writer.”
—Lao Guardian, author of One with Nature
“Sui generis! Condenses, in an expansive way, a lifetime’s reflections on reading, writing, drinking, and being stuck in one’s head while out in the world.”
—Addison Oates, author of Death by Jacaranda
“Riffage FTW. Almost funny at times. Surprisingly loveable characters (especially that poor boy from the Great Northeast).”
—Kevin Snare, author of Shattering Windows with Rocks
“Audacity, authority, execution, oomph, and—when it comes to the bit about quitting writing—maybe even some heft.”
—Francis Gibson, author of A Birth at Home
“Undiscourageably diffuse.”
—John England, author of Restoration Road
“Not much happens until the end but it’s worth the wait.”
—Jonathan David Grooms
- GenresFiction
244 pages, Paperback
Published June 16, 2024
1 person is currently reading
79 people want to read
About the author
Lee Klein
17 books40 followersLee Klein is the author of Like It Matters, Chaotic Good, Neutral Evil ))), JRZDVLZ, The Shimmering Go-Between, Thanks and Sorry and Good Luck: Rejection Letters from the Eyeshot Outbox, and Incidents of Egotourism in the Temporary World. His translation of Horacio Castellanos Moya's Revulsion: Thomas Bernhard in San Salvador received a 2015 PEN/Heim Translation Fund Award and was recognized by the New Yorker's James Wood as one of four favorites of 2016. From 1999 to 2014 he edited Eyeshot.net, one of the first weird little lit sites, and in May 2007 he started using Goodreads. He lives in the Philadelphia area with his daughter and wife.
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Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews
October 4, 2024
Seeker of the sentence sublime, princeling of the premium paragraph, and the man who put the OG in Goodreads, Lee Klein is back with a masterly novel that captures the raptures and ruptures of being a writer and reader in this troubled half of this century. Throop Roebling (not played by Peter Cook) has libambulated twelve miles for a Bloomsday bacchanal with his brethren of the book—an alcoholic ritual of writerly mumbles, fumbles, and tumbles fuelled by severe German beers—in anticipation of the arrival of successful middlebrow writer Jonathan David Grooms. Across the course of the day, Roebling spars with writers on the cusp of quitting, those compelled by agents to sand down their exuberant masterpieces, those lamenting their MFAs (Might Find Agents), those embattled by their limited talents, and those seeking a mere whisper of indifference toward their recent unpublished manuscripts. Like It Matters is a full-bodied pleasure from beginning to end—the literary equivalent of that first golden slug of an ice-cool beverage as it soothes one’s sundown parchedness. A cascade of shimmering prose brimming with passionate pleas for the furtherment of the written word, for the continual bulking of bookish brilliance atop the tower of Babel. A novel that celebrates the throbs, the yawps, the pleasures, the kicks, the blows, and the pricks of moulding the messiness of the thing-called-life into whatever wordy shapes that tingle your literary nerves. A flurry of references, musings, and sage-like insights. A thoughtful, excoriating, painfully accurate, seriously funny, and compassionate novel of the writing life. A novel that in happier times would sit pristinely between the hardcovers of a Harcourt Brace or a Calder & Boyars. An absolute triumph to be read with a crate of Weihenstephaner Hefeweizen that will lift the spirits of the most embittered of writers. Skol!
August 15, 2024
Lee’s books tend to be excellent. I've read seven of them - greatly enjoyed the majority of them - and this is, I think, his best. Keep an eye out for it this June.
December 23, 2025
As a drum I’ve beat as subtly as Gene Hoglan at a Gene Krupa tribute—check and bam; can cross off the hipster shoutouts—it’s no small secret that I love jobbers. Call ‘em rounders, knucklers, whatever; the terms, and there are many, all mean the same thing: people that do the small, seemingly mundane work of moving people from place to place, constructing linear cohesion, blah blah. I think this stems from my love of baseball and lamenting the death of American small ball. When I was a kid (c. 1886), home runs were, like the three-pointer, the exception that made them all the more exceptional. That’s not to say I don’t love when some asshole has his Hyundai’s windshield broken out by a moonshot that left the park, or a baseline three that beats the buzzer, the band, and anyone from Boston. I do miss the humble bunt, however, and the beauty of the behind-the-back no-look pass that sets up what appears to be the phenomenon of singular achievement. I love the work that goes into moving guys around the base, I also love human sacrifices—it stands to reason I would love the sacrifice bunt.
Now that I’ve ruined popular sport, let me apply this same assassin’s skill (a lifetime’s cumulative specialty achieved by the moment-to-moment, seemingly fantastical ability to drain any situation of a single cell of another’s joy; the popping of balloons at a hospital to make myself laugh, shit luck to the idiot self-loathsome enough to tie their sigil to my sinking stone) to Mr Klein’s novel. No, first I will clarify—as if I could get lost—that it is unreservedly in the ten best I’ve read in 2025, and this is in a banner year of both number AND quality of books read. Klein has always had the ability to write and to do so tremendously, but his wilderness years (I dunno; sounds cool, though) found him exploring forms that pushed away from his luminous first novel, The Shimmering Go-Between (no, sadly not about The Go-Betweens, but still fantastic once you get over the crushing realization), and rooting around in theretofore unexplored forms he employed to, I dunno, impart some substantive shit about The State of Lee, follies physical and psychic, capturing sound on the page, and a shitload of other not insignificant things. This, and I apply the term loosely, is his Ecstatic writing, and it is all things good: human, graceful, funny, as sad as a raised index finger in hope for a miracle in a parking lot that's been Jerry-less for 30+ years now, et al. So, if we have the more classical early two novels, which contain some of my beloved small ball, and his more recent companion pieces Neutral Evil and Chaotic Good as our ecstaticized (Tom) Verlainian modal explorations, Like It Matters is where the two come together and, doing so, synthesize a whole new plateau to transcend such hasty (though not unbrilliant) halves as I have managed to cleave Klein’s life’s work in a few clause-fucked sentences. Hey, fuck me—I was going for a thing.
So, I’ll say it straight. Like It Matters EARNS every bit of the catharsis, pumping the car headliner to CCR with a lit J on a sunny afternoon, ecstatic-by-way-of bunts it entreats by its finishing rush of pages. The ‘bunt’ here is Throop, his narrator’s, fucking hilariously recursive inner monologue; Klein’s charming self-referentialism just gains strength upon strength as the narrative progresses, likely because the in-world references accumulate for him to do the callback to. But it’s his micronizing of self-recursion to the level of sentence-by-sentence that is most glorious. Trust me: by the time you get to the end bits, you’ll be both in the room (it’s an interesting room), AND wishing the whole thing weren’t calling it a night. I maintain, here as in any other book, that you can only achieve that when the plasticity of the novel modulates so exquisitely that you and it become one organism, damn all that outside world to its own clamoring and Gong Show theatre.
If this sounds like my attempt at the ecstatic, it’s only out of my need to try, fail as I do, to meet Like It Matters some distance toward the halfway point. It’s my particular belief that true moments of sublimity are rare enough that we disrespect, however minutely, the human engines that power these glimpses into what I hope to be the Eternal if we don't try to recognize and sustain them. Yep, it’s that good. It’s Steph Curry bunting a walk-off three in the bottom of the ninth; Shakey Young expanding and contracting back to that aching goddamn horse whinny of a B in the Em/D/Am7 fugue as he's-a-coming dancing across the water.
____________________________________________
*Consumer Disclaimer* 1) someone can fix whatever slop ^ is above (I have a fucking migraine); and 2) I can barely use my right hand from an injury, so apologies to Klein for failing to meet this rectangular wonder in anything approaching even half-measures. Oh: the back cover blurbs are worth admission alone.
Now that I’ve ruined popular sport, let me apply this same assassin’s skill (a lifetime’s cumulative specialty achieved by the moment-to-moment, seemingly fantastical ability to drain any situation of a single cell of another’s joy; the popping of balloons at a hospital to make myself laugh, shit luck to the idiot self-loathsome enough to tie their sigil to my sinking stone) to Mr Klein’s novel. No, first I will clarify—as if I could get lost—that it is unreservedly in the ten best I’ve read in 2025, and this is in a banner year of both number AND quality of books read. Klein has always had the ability to write and to do so tremendously, but his wilderness years (I dunno; sounds cool, though) found him exploring forms that pushed away from his luminous first novel, The Shimmering Go-Between (no, sadly not about The Go-Betweens, but still fantastic once you get over the crushing realization), and rooting around in theretofore unexplored forms he employed to, I dunno, impart some substantive shit about The State of Lee, follies physical and psychic, capturing sound on the page, and a shitload of other not insignificant things. This, and I apply the term loosely, is his Ecstatic writing, and it is all things good: human, graceful, funny, as sad as a raised index finger in hope for a miracle in a parking lot that's been Jerry-less for 30+ years now, et al. So, if we have the more classical early two novels, which contain some of my beloved small ball, and his more recent companion pieces Neutral Evil and Chaotic Good as our ecstaticized (Tom) Verlainian modal explorations, Like It Matters is where the two come together and, doing so, synthesize a whole new plateau to transcend such hasty (though not unbrilliant) halves as I have managed to cleave Klein’s life’s work in a few clause-fucked sentences. Hey, fuck me—I was going for a thing.
So, I’ll say it straight. Like It Matters EARNS every bit of the catharsis, pumping the car headliner to CCR with a lit J on a sunny afternoon, ecstatic-by-way-of bunts it entreats by its finishing rush of pages. The ‘bunt’ here is Throop, his narrator’s, fucking hilariously recursive inner monologue; Klein’s charming self-referentialism just gains strength upon strength as the narrative progresses, likely because the in-world references accumulate for him to do the callback to. But it’s his micronizing of self-recursion to the level of sentence-by-sentence that is most glorious. Trust me: by the time you get to the end bits, you’ll be both in the room (it’s an interesting room), AND wishing the whole thing weren’t calling it a night. I maintain, here as in any other book, that you can only achieve that when the plasticity of the novel modulates so exquisitely that you and it become one organism, damn all that outside world to its own clamoring and Gong Show theatre.
If this sounds like my attempt at the ecstatic, it’s only out of my need to try, fail as I do, to meet Like It Matters some distance toward the halfway point. It’s my particular belief that true moments of sublimity are rare enough that we disrespect, however minutely, the human engines that power these glimpses into what I hope to be the Eternal if we don't try to recognize and sustain them. Yep, it’s that good. It’s Steph Curry bunting a walk-off three in the bottom of the ninth; Shakey Young expanding and contracting back to that aching goddamn horse whinny of a B in the Em/D/Am7 fugue as he's-a-coming dancing across the water.
____________________________________________
*Consumer Disclaimer* 1) someone can fix whatever slop ^ is above (I have a fucking migraine); and 2) I can barely use my right hand from an injury, so apologies to Klein for failing to meet this rectangular wonder in anything approaching even half-measures. Oh: the back cover blurbs are worth admission alone.
June 20, 2024
Video review https://youtu.be/d9fkTjija4Y
January 30, 2025
This is a blisteringly brilliant book and worth anyone’s time.
I can’t believe how well Klein writes about writing in such a deeply personal yet all-encompassing way. As a classical musician I couldn’t help but relate to the many ideas, feelings and strong opinions about the art form, warts and all. He covers everything from the religious devotion one feels to upholding a writing habit to the alarming amounts of bullshit that goes on in the industry… Several times during my experience reading this, “writing” and “composing”/“performing” became synonymous. I think many musicians and writers might even find parts of the book offensive, and that’s a great sign.
Side note: I had never seen another person walking and reading in my life and thought I must be a weirdo for doing it. How bizarre and nice it was to read about that only 30 or so pages in.
I can’t believe how well Klein writes about writing in such a deeply personal yet all-encompassing way. As a classical musician I couldn’t help but relate to the many ideas, feelings and strong opinions about the art form, warts and all. He covers everything from the religious devotion one feels to upholding a writing habit to the alarming amounts of bullshit that goes on in the industry… Several times during my experience reading this, “writing” and “composing”/“performing” became synonymous. I think many musicians and writers might even find parts of the book offensive, and that’s a great sign.
Side note: I had never seen another person walking and reading in my life and thought I must be a weirdo for doing it. How bizarre and nice it was to read about that only 30 or so pages in.
April 22, 2025
If only I could share a photo of my copy, which has dozens of post-its sticking out from it. There's no book I return to right now with greater frequency, sneaking in a couple of random pages whenever I have a few minutes and need a lift. Recently, I shared a section with a workshop I lead because we were discussing successful riffing, and when I thought to share it, I didn't even have one particular riff in mind. I simply opened the book and found, within seconds, one that was sure to entertain and make my point, which was that the writer can do anything as long as they delight the reader. Can't wait for Bloomsday 2025, so I can reread this one start to finish.
September 20, 2024
Really unbelievably good.
July 7, 2025
Another excellent novel, and a seriously good how-to guide book for writers at all stages; some excellent advice and thoughts on the practice. Klein is one of the best literature guides on this site - complete your karma cycle by reading and reviewing a few of his books. Personally, I loved his Egotourism novel the most, but have enjoyed all his novels, all ranked at 4-5 stars. They’re all very relatable and well done, and are funny, intelligent, and full of decency even when offering criticism of all kinds.
October 27, 2024
I've been a fan of Lee's books for a few years now and this one did not disappoint. The book should appeal to anyone who loves writing, writers, and the pain of trying to succeed in the literary world. The story builds over time and Lee crafted a great ending.
After reading it, I couldn't help but wonder how much of the story was true. Could be pure fiction, could be entirely true.
Highly recommended!
After reading it, I couldn't help but wonder how much of the story was true. Could be pure fiction, could be entirely true.
Highly recommended!
July 5, 2024
this is a book written for me to exacerbate my nostalgia for grad school and reassure my habit of writing for the sake of writing.
it's also a well-captured glimpse or our pockets of literati, the kind that sustain us and keep this stupid religion of ours intact.
here, here
it's also a well-captured glimpse or our pockets of literati, the kind that sustain us and keep this stupid religion of ours intact.
here, here
November 5, 2025
Really enjoyed this novel and the discourse it sparked in my household. I ended up reading a number of the passages to my boyfriend, who is in the process of writing a kind of screed novel of his own. He speaks frequently about what Klein wrote about in Like It Matters—getting published, not getting published, Music for Airports, etc. Like It Matters is highly engaging and touches not only on the current state of the literary world, but also how one may define a life well-lived. And beer! Huzzah! Well worth the read and I look forward to my boyfriend getting his own copy of the book and resuming the conversation once more.
June 19, 2024
Wow. At first I gave this novel side eye but it REALLY gets going and the end was extremely satisfying in the way that great books are, leaving you a little sad to have to say goodbye to your new friends. And after reading this the back cover writhes with life. Possibly his best yet.
December 4, 2024
Wonderful. Engrossing. Not just because it addresses all of my lifelong writerly hangups and concerns and insecurities and struggles, which it certainly does, thoroughly and wisely and generously in both senses of the word, and by means of some subtle unexpected meta tricks no less. Recheck the back cover. Which honestly would be good enough on its own.
Better yet, it also shows you how and why to transcend them, their ultimate meaninglessness and meaningfulness, with a surprising and vivid major twist that really lands the whole thing in a private profound playful and pithy way.
Bra-fucking-vo
June 19, 2024
Great book. I enjoy Klein's style, strongly consistent with his other recent books I've read (Chaotic Good and Neutral Evil). The consideration of writing and reading as a way of life is worth everybody's time and attention.
I wrote a review here: https://tinyurl.com/srvwk878
I wrote a review here: https://tinyurl.com/srvwk878
Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews