Plan B

Besides Gay Running Club and some time in Alamo Square Park, the whole of my weekend was spent at the Squat and Gobble on Fillmore and in my bed and on the couch and in the beige armchair in the living room reading Plan B, the first novel from Jonathan Tropper, one of my favorite authors and someone whose work I've referenced on the web log a time or two before. I don't really know what to say about Plan B except that it was enjoyable and shockingly applicable to my life right now and, as is Tropper's way, endlessly quotable. Below are three of my favorites.

We just stood there looking at each other, and the planet spun around a little bit more. It was as if we'd entered a daydream and forced it into focus. I felt the force of what I'd just said mingle with the power of the mountains around us, giving the air an electrical charge. "This is one of those moments in life," I told her. "When you know you're having one of those moments in life."


We sat there quietly for a while watching the lake, growing ever so slightly older together.


Nothing doesn't happen all at once. It starts slow, so slow that you don't even notice it. And then, when you do, you banish it to the back of your mind in a hail of rationalizations and resolutions. You get busy, you bury yourself in your meaningless work, and for a while you keep the consciousness of Nothing at bay. But then something happens and you're forced to face the fact that Nothing is happening to you right now, and has been for some time.

I've since begun reading Jennifer Niven's All the Bright Places to buffer my next Tropper read (One Last Thing Before I Go). Also, let's be friends on Goodreads.