In the final tally I’m not sure who said it more, my daughter or me.
That year from two to three was full of refusals—there was the bedtime no and the cleaning up no; no to taking a bath and no to getting out of the bath; no to getting dressed or undressed. It was the toddler version of Newton’s third law: every action demanded an equal and opposite uh-uh . . .
“Can you say something nice about this place?”
My left wrist is throbbing like a siren so I barely register Jackie’s request. She’s the tour’s PR lackey, in charge of pushing me through the subterranean bowels of the Home Depot Center to my press conference . . .
This is me at fifteen, splayed out on Carly’s giant trampoline—stargazing, helpless, hopeful, smiling through a mouthful of stolen popcorn . . .
To celebrate the release of Copycat: And a Litter of Other Cats, we’re pleased to feature a guest post from creator David Yow on his real-life cats Little Buddy, Nico, and Penny. In March 2005 I was in a new apartment and freshly divorced—clearly I needed a cat. A friend’s mama cat was about to […]
“Mama, Miss Tina is fat,” Rose announced from the backseat of my Nissan Sentra. Panic immediately set in . . .
It was with great sadness that we learned of the death this past weekend of James Thompson, editor of our forthcoming anthology Helsinki Noir.
I’m standing here beneath the palms surrounded by six police officers, all of them with their guns drawn, all of them pointing at me . . .
I didn’t know he was hooked on smack when I moved in. That confession came two nights later . . .