Dunking, Just Don’t Do It

I have never understood the dunkers of the world.

Why take a perfectly decent cookie (or biscuit, if you would) and dip it into a perfectly lovely cup of tea?

All you end up with is a soggy cookie and crummy tea.

It should be some kind of grave sin against the universe. Like cutting up your entire plate of food before you eat it. Or chewing with your mouthful and open.

Anyway, that’s really all I have to say this morning. I’m having one of those busy times. Life as a writer is distressingly unpredictable. I thought I had planned my year out with a little slow down at the end of it, so I scheduled in some real life appointments. Oops. Writing decided to race me to the finish instead, so, as you may have noticed, I haven’t been as much on the interwebs as usual.

There is something very exciting happening tomorrow with Soulless.

Mum and I in Australia together. I took my Mom with me Down Under as my date for the Hugos in 2010 when I was nominated for the Campbell.

In strange kind of symbolism, tomorrow (September 13) is also my Mum’s 65th birthday. Those of you who have met that exuberant and august personage well know that some percentage of Alexia Tarabotti (I’m not saying how big a percentage) is based on her.

Being an expat Mum has a lovely British accent. She is the narrator on the little sample full cast audio of the first chapter of Soulless. She read me The Hobbit when I was eight, which started me on this fantasy madness and turned me into a reader, which turned me into a writer. When Soulless was published my lovely boss sent my mum flowers, “On the birth of your first grand-book.” In a way, Mum could be blamed for all of this. So, happy birthday Mum, we all know one thing for certain, you alone are responsible for the tea addiction.

I am reminded of a brief Mum story. During the big earthquake of (what was it, 89?) . . . 89. We were hit pretty hard. It was tea time. I remember running outside with Mum and the Popster. Dad was crowing about the amazing power of nature and such ~ he’s a poet, what can you do? I was muttering about finding open space, getting away from the house, safety precautions. The lawn was undulating like jello. The cats were going bonkers.

My mother spent the whole time staring at her mug of tea, trying to keep it from spilling a drop.

Book News:
Conclusion of my interview with the Airship Ambassador.

Quote of the Day:
“Tea at the refreshment-rooms of railway stations and on board steam-boats is often a mere parody on the real article – fearful decoction which appears a principal part in the historical episode of Queen Eleanor and Fair Rosamund, and of which one hesitates to partake, lest it should have speedily fatal results.”
~ Lillias Campbell Davidson, 1889


Posted by Gail Carriger

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