SNEAK PEEK: HERE IS AN OPENING PAGE OF A NOVEL I MIGHT WRITE. A NOVEL ABOUT A NOVELIST. I KNOW YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO DO THAT BUT I WANT TO. WHAT YA THINK?
"Do you think you'll ever put me into one of your crazy books?" Jordan asked, tapping the ashes of his cigarette into his empty Dr. Pepper can. We sat in my apartment in the middle of what was for many a work day. Jordan was not my best friend, but when you can't be with the one you love – love the one you're with, as they say. This made me a little sad to consider whether I even had a best friend anymore, or did I just surround myself with a lot of second fiddles?
"What makes you think I haven't?" I said, drinking my Dr. Pepper from a frosty beer mug chock full of ice cubes shaped like little flying saucers. I had sent away for novelty ice trays from the famed Oriental Trading Company a year ago and have not once regretted the purchase. In fact, I wish I had bought a few more. Truth is, I have always loved ice and at a certain age I vowed to never use a drinking straw again, never to let anything come between my ice and me. And that's a vow I plan to keep.
"Have you?" said Jordan.
"Have I what?" I said, because I had gone on that overlong tangent about my love of ice and the Oriental Trading Company.
Jordan was leaning a bit into my personal space now. The smell of tobacco made me a tad nauseous. "Have you ever put me into one of your books and not told me?"
I took a deep, refreshing, ice-filled gulp of Dr. Pepper, pausing for effect. I took my time. Through my picture window, I watched a bird flit past. Then I said: "I'd rather not say."
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