The city is not as beautiful in winter. Or maybe it’s just my jet lag that’s gotten me feeling pretty down. I’ve been thinking a lot today about Alina in Stray Dogs and Lonely Beaches, my second novel. I’m remembering why I wrote that, the types of feelings I needed that particular character to experience. Maybe tomorrow I’ll feel more like myself and therefore more at home in the world. Today I’m tired and dizzy, and I’m not quite here.