Her unwritten rule: Stay close to home

MENTION the phrase “L.A. writer,” and chick lit might come to mind. In contrast, Lisa Glatt, a nationally acclaimed writer and poet, provides a more authentic, if somewhat bent, vision of Southern California.

Her first book, 2004’s “A Girl Becomes a Comma Like That,” is a slightly autobiographical novel about a woman whose mother has breast cancer and how that affects her choices in life. (The book made Glatt a finalist for first fiction at last year’s Los Angeles Times Festival of Books, which returns to UCLA this weekend.) The follow-up, “The Apple’s Bruise,” is a collection of short stories. And she’s currently working on her third book, “The Nakeds.”

So come the weekend, she and husband David Hernandez, a noted poet and visual artist in his own right, stay close to home in Long Beach.

Scrabble anyone?

On Friday afternoon, we like to swing by the farmers’ market on the Promenade in downtown Long Beach and pick up fresh vegetables and fruit. Afterward, we head over to the Barnes & Noble in Marina Pacifica to check out the latest fiction or poetry. Lately, we’ve been picking up travel books because we’re heading to Italy for my fellowship at the Civitella Ranieri Center this summer.

In the evening, friends come over to have a glass of wine, and we grill something in the backyard. After dinner, we clear the table to play speed Scrabble. It’s a quicker and more ruthless game than regular Scrabble, but we still remain friends no matter who wins.

Write then play

Saturday morning and afternoon, we stay inside and write. There’s nothing glamorous about it. We work in our pajamas with messy hair, the phone and e-mail turned off, and stay in our separate workspaces, meeting briefly in the kitchen for lunch or a cup of tea. We go over what we wrote earlier, sometimes trading work and seeking advice.

Around twilight, we climb out of the caves of our offices and get ready for a Saturday night out. We head over to Alegria on Pine Avenue and order a pitcher of Sangria and watch the flamenco dancers and listen to the guitarist. The flamenco dancers coax guests to come dance with them. We often meet friends there and head up the street for dinner at King’s Fish House. One of us will usually get the blackened catfish, while the other orders the New Orleans shrimp.

Day’s soundtrack

On Sunday morning we lounge around together with one of our new CDs on. By noon, we’re getting the house ready for my private workshops [on writing], which last all afternoon.

Later, we stop by Bono’s on 2nd Street and sit at the bar. If we’re lucky, Melissa or Daniel will be bartending -- the two coolest bartenders in town. Depending on our mood, we either have a glass of Pinot Grigio or pomegranate martinis. Then we go down the street to Caffe La Strada, one of our favorite restaurants in Long Beach. The eggplant appetizer is superb, as is the chicken parmigiana.

Afterward, we head over to Fingerprints Records, where we’re sure to find the latest records by Devendra Banhart, Wolf Parade and Broken Social Scene.