We were sitting in a cafe, by the window, and you were trying to tell me something, but I was distracted, watching a road construction crew across the street. He has been in intensive care for the past week, you said. The men in their orange vests had taken cables from their truck. They attached it to something in a manhole. I want to visit him soon. I think we both should go. I stirred my coffee idly. The men began to haul an anaconda the size of a tree trunk out of the sewer. Do you think that’s a good idea, you said. Sure, I said, as the men coiled up the anaconda and put it in a second truck that had arrived. You don’t think anyone will wonder what our motives are? The men got the snake in the truck. It seemed to be dead, or possibly tranquilized.

the oscars2

Watching The Oscars has been a tradition in my family ever since my grandma was nominated for best costumes for the original TRON in 1982. We place our bets months in advance, then, when the night of the award show comes around, we get drunk, eat too much, become overly competitive, and lose a lot of money. It’s a blood sport that usually ends in tears. Last year I live-blogged the event from a studio apartment in East Harlem. This year I am back in Los Angeles at my parents’ house. The following is me live-tweeting our inevitable downward spiral.

splasharbia1

One of the biggest problems with selling people on the idea of a rock novel is the term “rock novel.”  There’s something about the two words that don’t want to go together. In 2014, “rock” suggests teenage boys—or men acting like teenage boys—watching one of their favorite bands on TV and getting excited. “These guys rock,” might be said. The word “rock” as a verb also has become shorthand for anything anyone does well. For example, “Thanks, Bob and Jackie, for inputting those contacts into the spreadsheet. You guys rock.” It seems “rock” can be used across the board for the least rocking things imaginable. As a rock novelist three times over, I can’t say this rocks.

when i want you

the thought of you
washes over me

if i open my mouth
                i will drown—
blue in the face
when i’m pulled up
                like a fish