Tabs open on your screen right now:
Gmail. Chase Bill Pay (I sent my last rent check to the wrong address…). Tiny Spills. Tiny Spills. Tiny Spills. Tiny Spills. Tiny Spills. Tiny Spills.
If you had to brag about yourself:
I have double-jointed elbows. I can whistle. I can curl my tongue the shape of a hotdog roll. I know how to weld.
Your writer crush:
Jen George. Her story collection, The Babysitter at Rest, is a goddamn masterpiece.
“I ain’t here for a long time, I’m here for a good time.”
Any place in the world:
the Earth’s core.
Oats and chia seeds and coconut flakes and cinnamon and tahini cooked together, with a few berries thrown in. I call this my “morning gruel.”
Favorite online places right now:
The N+7 Machine. Now and forever.
My main squeeze.
Your rituals (writing or not):
Opening emails as soon as I get them and then not replying for several days as I agonize over what to say and then finally replying and discovering new emails over which to agonize.
Least impressive thing about you:
I’m tall, but I was born this way. It wasn’t something I had to work at.
Favorite space to write:
Desks that don’t induce carpel tunnel.
What should we know:
I’ll point you here.
Best book nobody talks about:
Louis Aragon’s Paris Peasant. It will light up your brain and make your fingers twitch. “Light is meaningful only in relation to darkness, and truth presupposes error,” he writes. “It is these mingled opposites which people our life, which make it pungent, intoxicating.”
Character (TV, book, movie) you most identify with:
Lara Croft: Tomb Raider.
Last time you lied:
4:09 PM, MST.
Question you secretly want to be asked:
“How much money would you like me to give you for no reason and with no strings attached?”
“$1,234,999,367.00. Thank you very much.”