Jody Amable

Creator of grungy, gritty rock and roll with a poet’s heart, her critically-lauded record, Beyond the Bloodhounds, tells tales of a tumultuous childhood and split geographical identity.

The further I get into this series, the harder time I am having remembering what the eff has happened so far. You see, I am an Old Lady.

If I let everyone off the hook for extenuating circumstances like, “He’s over 50, so he probably just doesn’t know any better,” no one’s ever going to stop calling me “sweetie.”

I'm 30 years old and stuck in San Jose, the hometown I always wanted to leave. What happened?

There are a lot of things to hate about the Olympics.

I was waiting to finally not like a Harry Potter book, and folks, I found it. Half-Blood Prince was boring.

Jon Stewart, step aside. Your heir apparent has arrived.

I couldn’t help but assume the reason these people were telling me not to say even a word to this troll was because women aren’t supposed to fight back. We’re supposed to rise above — to “not stoop to their level,” as my mom used to say.

In the aftermath of my mom passing, I've learned to reconcile our rocky relationship with the knowledge that she loved me.

The neighbors turned their lights off. My dog fell sound asleep. I kept reading. And at 1:03 am, I finished. All was well.