My favorite Aimee memory: It’s 2000, late November. Aimee, Jennifer, Antoine, and I have spent the day in Chicago, mostly at the Field Museum. It’s late, and Antoine’s at the wheel of the Silver Bullet. Aimee and I are in the back seat, and I’m really tired. It is at this point that Aimee decides that she wants to practice her Spanish.

I hadn't even known that she spoke Spanish, but here’s Aimee, just talking away. It was so surreal and funny and sweet that, even though I really wanted to go to sleep, I was laughing against my will.

And now Aimee’s come out with a new poetry collection. Her first one, Miracle Fruit, was beautiful, and I’m 100% that this one is, too.