The looks Flor will exchange with you in the middle of class are unparalleled. The musicality of her name makes trombonists and radio DJs swoon.
Name: Florencia Lauria
Where are you from?
Buenos Aires half the time, New York the other half.
How do you take your coffee?
Depends on the weather. Lately I've been taking it black, but I have nothing against milk or sugar (especially when it gets cold).
If your writing was a landscape, what would it look like?
I've never been to California, but I think my writing looks like my imaginary concept of a Southern Californian landscape. There are peaks and valleys, palm trees and beaches. There is the ocean and the desert. There are too many crisscrossing highways and sudden seismic shifts.
Tell us about a lie you've told:
I lie about my name every time I buy coffee at Starbucks. I usually tell the barista that my name is Catie or Jaime or Maia. The catch is remembering which name I gave out.
What is your superpower?
I wish I could say teletransportation, but unfortunately I haven't figured out how to do that yet. One of my actual superpowers, though, is remembering people's birthdays. It's kind of a creepy superpower when I barely know the person whose birthday I remember.
Tell us about something you're reading and why it's great/not great:
Right now I'm reading Katharine Harmon's You Are Here: Personal Geographies and Other Maps of the Imagination. It is great because it validates my belief in treasure maps.
Describe your favorite physical writing space.
My favorite writing space is an orange desk I bought at Steeple People. It prompts me to approach writing with a certain light heartedness; it begs me to not take myself too seriously. Also, I feel like I'm writing on top of a tangerine or a peach or a traffic cone.
What is the best thing about being a non fiction writer? (or a writer in general) What's the worst?
The best thing about being a writer is getting away with spending a ridiculous amount of time deciding whether to write "aluminum" or "tinfoil." The worst part about being a writer is spending a ridiculous amount of time deciding whether to write "aluminum" or "tinfoil."
Last dream you had:
Last night I dreamt that a famous painter, named Babara, invited me to her rooftop party. We drank mojitos and she suggested I hire a personal dresser. I'm still trying to decipher what this means.
Last great/terrible thing you overheard:
I am sitting at a cafe waiting to overhear something great and/or terrible, but most people are talking about the weather, about glaciers, about vegan muffins.
What are all those whales singing about exactly?
They are singing about rain.