We didn’t always live on South Second Street. We moved there from Rutledge Street, on the other side of the neighborhood. But the Hasidic Jews had moved in, so Papi said we couldn’t live there anymore, although he didn’t live with us. My mother’s friend Mojona had bought a building
This begins a highly fictionalized memoir, a sort of A Tree Grows on Mango Street on Rye, if you will. Childhood’s Smell FINALLY, WE DECIDED to go to our father and ask him. He would know. Our mother’s English was not too good, but Papi, he talked like the people
Now and then, for no good reason, life will haul off and knock a man flat. I wrote a zombie short story for no good reason last year, and it just got published by Tales of World War Z. Check it out, and please leave a comment on their site!
I have a short story in the upcoming Indian Country Noir, part of the Akashic Books Noir series. Of the book (and moi) La Bloga’s Manuel Ramos wrote: “Plenty of good surprises: R. Narvaez in Juracán tells a story set in Puerto Rico among the legends of the Tainos, stolen
My short story “Ibarra Goes Down” is now up in the current issue of Yellow Mama. Thanks, Cindy! Here’s a few opening lines. Warning: This story is a smidge rated R. Ibarra Goes Down by R. Narvaez It’s all right, Larry, I might as well get all this off my
I have a crime-related short story coming out in print in Indian Country Noir, due out this June from Akashic Books. It’s an action story, lots of violence, some Taino trivia thrown in for good measure. A perfect starring vehicle for Leguizamo. I’ll say no more. But check out the
What three hours on the MTA and two bottles of wine while editing will get you. This was based on a podcast I did with my pal P-Woody. That bongo playing? That’s mine!