Among the most important recent developments in literary Los Angeles is the launch of Slake, an old school/new school journal founded by Joe Donnelly and Laurie Ochoa [on the web at slake.la], dedicated to the idea that print is not dead and that people want to read serious writing of the fictional, nonfictional, and poetic varieties. Slake#4 is about to come out, and we decided to offer a little teaser for those of you who don’t yet know the magazine. This excerpt is from one of LARB’s favorite writers, contributing editor Aimee Bender. Bender will be appearing at 7 pm this Thursday night, January 12th, at Atwater Crossing (3245 Casitas Ave., Atwater Village, 90039) as part of the Slake After Dark reading series. Details at Slake.la.
I sat down in a plaid lounge chair. She sat next to me. She perched. She was looking at the party attendees and trying to remember who was who, matching faces to the database in her mind. There is nothing so effective at abating one’s own social anxiety than a more anxious person perched on the next lounge chair. It is a neat trick, nearly always successful. I had grown up with an agoraphobic mother, who asked me as a kid to be the one to go talk to the neighbors about their barking dog. I liked the neighbors, did it gladly. The neighbors opened the door in their bathrobes and listened with care, nodded with sympathy, and the world bent under my hands like soft metal. Something of Ellen’s party preoccupations reminded me of that, of the surge of pure self-importance I felt as my mother peeked out the front window like a cartoon, the soothing sound of the dog gnawing a bone in the back, me leaving the neighbor’s house with a cookie.
I sipped my wine. I had lost some of my neighborliness over time. While with Ellen, I was not obligated to do anything else at the party, as I appeared to be enjoying myself. Across the pool, on the other side, a woman with yellow curls tossed back her head and laughed.
From where we sat, we could see into the house. Upstairs, huge, perfectly washed windows overlooked the patio and pool, and the inside lighting was opalescent and glowy, which interacted with the pale blueish lights under the water. Everything was very moon-themed in color scheme. I could see a standing lamp in the corner of the upstairs room — chrome, with a metallic ruffle around the bulb.
Among the most important recent developments in literary Los Angeles is the launch of Slake, an old school/new school journal founded by Joe Donnelly and Laurie Ochoa [on the web at slake.la], dedicated to the idea that print is not dead and that people want to read serious writing of the fictional, nonfictional, and poetic varieties. Slake #4 is about to come out, and we decided to offer a little teaser for those of you who don’t yet know the magazine. This excerpt is from one of LARB’s favorite writers, contributing editor Aimee Bender. Bender will be appearing at 7 pm this Thursday night, January 12th, at Atwater Crossing (3245 Casitas Ave., Atwater Village, 90039) as part of the Slake After Dark reading series. Details at Slake.la.
