New Orleans native Ann Glaviano came to Columbus in 2010 to attend grad school at Ohio State. She returned home with an MFA in fiction and a lasting impact on Columbus in the form of Heatwave, the vinyl-only dance party phenomenon Glaviano created with fellow DJs Adam Scoppa and Chris Johnson. In honor of her return to the decks at Ace of Cups for Heatwave's fourth anniversary this Saturday, here are a few of her favorite things.

New Orleans native Ann Glaviano came to Columbus in 2010 to attend grad school at Ohio State. She returned home with an MFA in fiction and a lasting impact on Columbus in the form of Heatwave, the vinyl-only dance party phenomenon Glaviano created with fellow DJs Adam Scoppa and Chris Johnson. In honor of her return to the decks at Ace of Cups for Heatwave's fourth anniversary this Saturday, here are a few of her favorite things.

"Ain't Too Proud to Beg"

For the last six months or so, one of my favorite moments of my Heatwave set (in New Orleans) has been courtesy of "Ain't Too Proud to Beg" by the Temptations. It's not rare. It's not new to me. But it is undeniable. This summer I did a guest set at the Five Spot in Nashville, and the awesome dudes who run Keep On Movin' told me they usually save "Ain't Too Proud to Beg" for the end of the night. But I've been playing it pretty early in my set - my first Motown cut after, typically, a lot of early R&B, songs that people like to clap and sing along to. The dance floor picks up "Ain't Too Proud to Beg" immediately, just after the opening drum fill, and they start basically howling the lyrics. And it's on.

Iced tea

My dad grew up on Desire Street (the one the streetcar is named after) in the Upper Ninth Ward of New Orleans, about eight blocks from where I live now. His mom, whom we called Grandmotherdear, made iced tea with mint from her garden, lemon, and a very small amount of sugar, because my dad was always trying to carb-bust. After some trial and error I have managed to replicate her recipe: Fill a large pitcher with water. Pour that water in a pot. Boil it, cut the heat, drop in two family-sized Luzianne tea bags for iced tea. While the tea is steeping add not even a quarter cup of sugar and a medium-sized sprig of fresh mint. After five minutes, discard the tea bags, squeeze the juice of one lemon into the pot, discard the rind, pour the tea into the pitcher, and chill the pitcher in the fridge. To serve, pour the tea over ice; don't add ice to the pitcher. Technically this is good old Southern sweet tea, but it is really light and refreshing - unlike most sweet tea, which tastes like hideous raisins. I asked my grandmother before she died why she wanted us to call her Grandmotherdear. "I thought it would be funny," she said.

Topiary Park

Behind the main branch of the library there's a topiary rendition of a famous George Seurat painting, A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte. My grad-school bestie, Colleen Kennedy, showed it to me. We picnicked in the painting, to my utter delight. I am a nerd for Stephen Sondheim (Sunday in the Park with George), so that added to my glee. In the right season the topiary park is about as thrilling and distinctive a place to bring out-of-towners as Jeni's Splendid Ice Creams.

Columbus Metropolitan Library

The library system is one of the best in the country. I lived in Weinland Park two blocks from the branch on High Street, and every time I passed that library I felt longing, a sensation that intensified to a swelling in my chest - immense gratitude for unbelievable good fortune - when I actually entered one of the Columbus Metropolitan Library buildings. When I was packing up to move back to New Orleans after grad school, I had a moment when I realized that, among other things, I was leaving behind this library system, and I actually teared up.

"The End of the Line"

Aimee Bender is one of my writing heroes; when I was getting my MFA at Ohio State, she published an O Magazine article about the daily writing grind called "A Closet of One's Own," and it changed my life. Not the bit about writing in a closet (though there are closets bigger than the "office" in which I am writing this now) but the bit about the timer and the writing contract and the complete lack of preciousness she seems to feel regarding her writing process. "The End of the Line," in her collection Willful Creatures, is one of the most devastating stories, with one of the most graceful (not meaning elegant but literally full of grace) endings that I've ever read.