© 2010 Ana. All rights reserved.

Great House

Here’s a review I wrote of Nicole Krauss’ new novel, Great House, for The Comment Factory.

© 2010 Ana. All rights reserved.

on being Jewish

Living in New York, passing delis that sold Cel-Ray soda (a.k.a. “Jewish champagne”) and knishes and bumping, literally, into fur hatted Hasids in the subway, I felt self-conscious of being Jewish.  Having moved back to California, where every Jew is … Continue reading

© 2010 Ana. All rights reserved.

life expanded to a novel

Here’s an excerpt from Joan Didion’s essay “In the Islands,” from her collection The White Album, a great summer read, as is most of her collected nonfiction, in that several pieces are short enough to read at the beach.  ¡Disfruta!

© 2010 Ana. All rights reserved.

between friends

The following letter was sent to the editor Pascal Covici by John Steinbeck, along with a box containing the manuscript of East of Eden: Dear Pat, You came upon me carving some kind of little figure out of wood and … Continue reading

© 2010 Ana. All rights reserved.

in praise of low expectations

I found a piece of paper in an old journal.  On it were written quotes from various sources, including this from Harper’s Findings: “The brains of obese women expect more gratification from a chocolate milkshake than is actually experienced; the brains of … Continue reading

© 2010 Ana. All rights reserved.

Nights in Hackett’s Cove

Those nights lit by the moon and the moon’s nimbus, the bones of the wrecked pier rose crooked in air and the sea wore a tarnished coat of silver. The black pines waited.  The cold air smelled of fishheads rotting … Continue reading

© 2010 Ana. All rights reserved.

a beginning and an end

On the last day of the sixth grade I spent the afternoon with a group of girls, among us some very popular members of our class.  We decided to ditch out on the myriad pool parties held in celebration of … Continue reading

© 2010 Ana. All rights reserved.

The Longest Time

The wind whistled and seagulls cawed.  Pam pushed a stroller and I held Emma’s hand as we walked the length of the pier in autumn.  Empty except for a few Chinese fishermen and another couple with a kid.  I took … Continue reading

© 2010 Ana. All rights reserved.

Here We Aren’t, So Quickly

Jonathan Safran Foer’s new piece in The New Yorker’s fiction issue feels like lyrics.  “I’m not forty-five or eighty-three, not being hoisted onto the shoulders of anybody wading into the sea.  I’m not learning chess, and you’re not losing your … Continue reading