We like poet and novelist Sherman Alexie, a lot. We went to see him at the City Arts & Lectures series a while back, and when we got the chance to sneak into the pre-show meet 'n' greet, we presented him with a book. (We like to give our heroes books. Benjamin Bratt would not accept Erick Lyle's On the Lower Frequencies, but we can say we tried. Joke's on you, Bratt.) Graciously accepting the little publication, Alexie asked, "Is this your book?" No, we said. "Oh. Is it your publishing house?" Nope, we're just very proud of it, and thought you might like it. "It" was Viva Loss, Sarah Fran Wisby's meditatively observant yet prosaic and funny collection of poetry and extrashort fiction. We only wish we could write like this; her piece on the moving sidewalk at the airport is one of our favorites, as is the self-indulgent, deep-itch-scratching fantasy of the pretty death that gets you your ex back. And Small Desk Press was the publisher, as Sherman Alexie now knows. Since we have not heard him praise Wisby's work in public yet, we can only assume he burned it in a fit of envy.