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rushthatspeaksI will be writing at least one thing and possibly more (not a clue what yet) for Greenwood Press's forthcoming Women in Science Fiction and Fantasy: an Encyclopedia. Yay! This advances my three-pronged plan for Taking Over the World nicely.
(It has to be three-pronged, because I love writing fiction and I love writing poetry and when both of those break my brain I find myself sitting down at my LJ and writing criticism as a form of relaxation, so doing something with that is a good thing. So far the three of them are about keeping up with one another in terms of stuff sold, too.)
In totally unrelated goings-on,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
eredien and I went to the Harvard-Radcliffe Science Fiction Association tea party this afternoon (we are vaguely affiliated by reason of Thrud's being a Harvard grad student). I did only okay on my get-out-and-talk-to-cool-people-you-don't-know goal, but the food was spectacular. We had homemade chocolate-chip scones with clotted cream, homemade marzipan, flourless chocolate cake with fresh berries, fifteen kinds of tea, and, most interestingly, quince jelly and sweet olive jelly. I am uncertain what I think of quince jelly. It has the same consistency as most jellies, but seemed to have a less concentrated flavor, so that by the time I could pick out something I thought might be quince as opposed to general sweet I'd gotten so much jelly that the sweet was attacking. So it tasted a lot like honey, really. Clearly I must have fresh quinces if I actually want to know what they taste like. The sweet olive jelly was fascinating in that it had the same kind of balance of sweet/strong as a very sweet onion, and in fact very strongly resembled one in flavor. Since I am violently allergic to onions, I had to consult the label in a burst of sudden panic, but no: a concoction of olives, sugar, honey, salt and spices does in fact transmute into onionness. It is interesting to know that if I ever really want that flavor I can have it, though I fear I'd keep expecting to break out in hives as I ate. (It was green olive jelly, by the way. The guy who brought it said that black olive jelly exists but is usually savory/salty, which makes sense to me. I am curious about that now.)
The surprise of the afternoon was the cucumber sandwiches. I've had every component of cucumber sandwiches separately, so I thought I knew what to expect, but I did not understand that cucumber, cream cheese and crustless white bread have a synergy which is almost unbelievable. I mean, they were perfectly ordinary cucumbers, and standard cream cheese, and I think it was actually Wonder Bread, and all of a sudden Oscar Wilde made a lot more sense and I had to physically restrain myself from eating the entire plate. I need to make these at home now.
(It has to be three-pronged, because I love writing fiction and I love writing poetry and when both of those break my brain I find myself sitting down at my LJ and writing criticism as a form of relaxation, so doing something with that is a good thing. So far the three of them are about keeping up with one another in terms of stuff sold, too.)
In totally unrelated goings-on,
eredien and I went to the Harvard-Radcliffe Science Fiction Association tea party this afternoon (we are vaguely affiliated by reason of Thrud's being a Harvard grad student). I did only okay on my get-out-and-talk-to-cool-people-you-don't-know goal, but the food was spectacular. We had homemade chocolate-chip scones with clotted cream, homemade marzipan, flourless chocolate cake with fresh berries, fifteen kinds of tea, and, most interestingly, quince jelly and sweet olive jelly. I am uncertain what I think of quince jelly. It has the same consistency as most jellies, but seemed to have a less concentrated flavor, so that by the time I could pick out something I thought might be quince as opposed to general sweet I'd gotten so much jelly that the sweet was attacking. So it tasted a lot like honey, really. Clearly I must have fresh quinces if I actually want to know what they taste like. The sweet olive jelly was fascinating in that it had the same kind of balance of sweet/strong as a very sweet onion, and in fact very strongly resembled one in flavor. Since I am violently allergic to onions, I had to consult the label in a burst of sudden panic, but no: a concoction of olives, sugar, honey, salt and spices does in fact transmute into onionness. It is interesting to know that if I ever really want that flavor I can have it, though I fear I'd keep expecting to break out in hives as I ate. (It was green olive jelly, by the way. The guy who brought it said that black olive jelly exists but is usually savory/salty, which makes sense to me. I am curious about that now.)The surprise of the afternoon was the cucumber sandwiches. I've had every component of cucumber sandwiches separately, so I thought I knew what to expect, but I did not understand that cucumber, cream cheese and crustless white bread have a synergy which is almost unbelievable. I mean, they were perfectly ordinary cucumbers, and standard cream cheese, and I think it was actually Wonder Bread, and all of a sudden Oscar Wilde made a lot more sense and I had to physically restrain myself from eating the entire plate. I need to make these at home now.
