Bella fans — how weird is this? I took Bella to the vet for her yearly checkup — had a struggle stuffing her into her carry case, had to listen to her curse me out the whole way there (a 7-block walk), but of course at the vet she poured on the charm. He pronounced her a “perfect cat.” Coat glossy, teeth sharp, heartbeat absolutely regular. Fabulous, say I, but I felt a tiny lump under her skin, at her shoulder, could you take a look at that? Says he, it’s probably just her microchip. Says I, this cat has no microchip, she’s an adopted (by me) foundling (by her last people). Oh, the vet says, waving his microchip reader over her shoulder, then where’d she get this? And indeed, someone, somewhere in her first almost-year of life, implanted a microchip in Bella the Cat! For all I know she’s been sending reports back to the mothership all this time.
Archive for SJ Rozan
Third Saturday, two days late
Drops begin to splash.
Gray coagulating mist
Splattering pavement.
Bright painted ferry
Plows down river through thick fog.
Red and yellow ghost.
Rain stops, clouds break up.
Town-crier seagull flaps north.
Blue sky is announced.
Art and Science strike again
Proving once again there’s no inherent conflict between art and science: your DNA, on a scarf. From a company called Dot One.

David Bowie, RIP
I’m not much for rock music, but David Bowie colored so far outside those lines that I loved him from The Man Who Fell to Earth onward. Sharan Newman provided this great Bowie quote, from the BBC: “Don’t you love the Oxford English Dictionary? The first time I read it, I thought it was a really long poem about everything.” So were you, David Bowie. But not long enough.
Second Saturday
Tower on far bank
Glows in shaft of morning sun
Against charcoal sky.
Tide at highest point.
Just twelve pilings visible.
Hundreds more submerged.
No ships. Slow south wind.
Long low swells slide into shore,
Slip along seawall.
First Saturday, six days late
Betcha thought I didn’t do these, huh? I did. But I lost them. But I found them. Just in time to post them before this week’s!
Blue and white striped tug,
Black tires nailed to painted hull,
Frothy wake behind.
Tide’s out, river’s low.
On pilings, flock of seagulls
Sit like sentinels.
Cormorant pops up.
Looks left, right. Nothing to see.
Arcs and dives again.
Crime and Science Radio
Doug Lyle, MD, one of the nicest guys ever and one of the crime writing world’s most under-sung resources, has teamed up with Jan Burke, who luckily gets sung, though not as much as she deserves, to bring you Crime and Science Radio. Once a month you get to hear such features as:
Tracking Down the Bad Guys: A Conversation with Retired US Marshal and Novelist Marc Cameron
Working Stiff: An Interview with Forensic Pathologist Judy Melinek and co-author/husband TJ Mitchell
Crime and Science in the OC: an Interview with Bruce Houlihan, Director of the Orange County Crime Lab
This is great stuff, folks. Crime writers, you’ll want to tune in.
Atlantic Center for the Arts
Three of the happiest weeks of my life were the ones I spent as a Master Artist at the Atlantic Center for the Arts.
It’s one of the best-kept secrets in the art/literature world, a retreat where you can go to study with people whose work interests you. Each Master Artist has 8-12 Associate Artists in workshops, in a beautiful, secluded setting hidden on the coast of central Florida. (Birdwatching! Manatees! The beach!) There’s an application deadline coming up soon, and if these aren’t people you want to study with, keep checking back.
I won’t be teaching there; this isn’t a promo for me, it’s just because of how much I loved my time there. (If you insist on studying with me, check my website).



