If I had a tea party…

I’ve decided for my weekly Monday post, I would write about the authors I would love to have tea with, living or dead.

My invitations have all gone out to these people by now and I would like for them to get some drinks with cucumber sandwiches and scones I have arranged myself.

Everyone looks so resplendent. Gail Carriger, author of Soulless and Prudence and one of my Twitter followers, is in her steampunk finery: she’s wearing her best scarlet frock with bustle skirt and corset and carrying a delicate parasol, while sipping tea with Miss Jane Austen in her muslin gown. I never expected those two to get along so well, even though Austen detested Gothic novels and wrote more romantic tales about real people, like Catherine Morland and Elizabeth Bennet.

Neil Gaiman, author of American Gods, and Ms. Joanne Rowling herself, the screenwriter of Fantastic Beasts and author of the boy wizard, are having a very in-depth conversation with Sir Arthur, talking about how they both enjoyed his stories of a sleuth who mastered the science of deduction and just defeated Moriarty for the last time. Neil is wearing his best black clothes and Ms. Rowling is in her blouse and skirt while Doyle is smoking his pipe and telling them about how to go about writing mystery, and praising Neil for doing an exceptional job for his short story, “The Case of Milk and Honey”.

I invited Scott, because I thought he would need some time away from his wife Zelda, but when he refused to come I told him there would be an open bar as well. So he came. My buddy Kerensa had brought some booze to the party for some reason, so Scott wouldn’t be too bored at the party anyway. We didn’t know how to make a whiskey sour, but at least we had enough tomato juice, vodka and basil to make a “Bloody Baron” for him and our friends.

Scott rather enjoyed himself as I asked him about Gatsby and his Jazz Age short stories. He looked rather surprised when I told him I loved his writing. And Kerensa introduced him to a new drink that involved Kahlua, Coke and rum, known as the “El Kabong”. He just decided to stay with the tea that he poured bourbon into from his flask in his suit jacket pocket.

Because I’m on very strong medication for a well documented mental illness, I had to refrain from drinking too much with Kerensa and Fitzgerald. So I hung around Miss Kiera Cass and Victoria Aveyard while sipping peppermint herbal tea and having chocolate cake. I praised Cass for writing the first three books of the Selection series, but I did feel like the last two books about Princess Eadlyn were unnecessary. She understood for the most part, but she did say that the story felt unfinished.

Victoria giggled when I said to her, “Rise, red as the dawn,” when she came to the party. I told her I loved her character Mare Barrow, the lightning girl, and I was shocked that she loved my character Violet Harris just as much. I introduced my friend Ruth from Workforce Technology Center and Balticon, whom I also invited to this little tea party, and told all three of them that I imagined Ruth to be just like Mare, but without the cane and fibromyalgia. I always thought Ruth was a strong female heroine like Mare Barrow and America Singer.

Ruth and I are redheads, by the way, even though Ruth technically plays with hair dye and my hair is naturally auburn.

Voltaire and Neil’s lovely wife Amanda Palmer gladly brought the music to the portion of the afternoon tea party, and my dear friend Keith DeCandido arrived as well, though a little late. He decided to take a break from writing Boogie Knights rhymes and sci fi stories, also a break from poking me on Facebook, to celebrate the greatest writings of the period. I believe his words were, “This is a tea party? What time period is this supposed to be?”

I said, “This is a gathering of all my favorite eras, from the Regency period, the Victorian age, the Roaring Twenties, and the Fabulous Fifties all the way up to now.” I should know, for I was wearing my favorite 1950s black and white polka dot dress with my periwinkle jacket and my favorite pair of mock Converses. I had also done a half updo like Amy from Karmin in the music video “Brokenhearted”, where she had this awesome “suicide roll” of hair on the top of her head. (Takes a bitch load of hairspray to hold it in place, I’ll tell you.)

I poured Keith a cup of tea and handed it to him. “The day is still young,” I said. “Drink up!”

And so we all raised our glasses to toast. To a lifetime of writing through the years, and all the centuries to come.

The End.

-The Lady in the Blue Box

Playlist selection-


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