San Francisco Magazine just released their issue on local authors, and they asked some of us to grace the cover.
I'm "showcasing" my typical head-scratching posture, in which I reread a sentence and think: now who snuck into my novel and wrote such a crappy line?
I'm working on my next book, some sort of weird literary mystery: in it, a woman gets a sentence repeating in her head in a language she doesn't speak, and the line happens to be about a murder. She and a friend set off on an adventure to try and save the target.
I read from the book last week in North Beach. This chapter is narrated by a guy with a closed head injury. I hope you dig it!
