Fantasy Dinner
Posted by K. S. Dearsley on Saturday, June 10, 2017
You know the game–someone says, "If you could invite anyone, alive or from the past, to dinner, who would you choose?" If I was doing the cooking, it would either have to be guests who knew me very well or who were used to burnt offerings, as I'm no candidate for Masterchef.
Perhaps I could invite Ray Mears to cook us up a campfire feast from ingredients he'd foraged in the wilds of central England. Between his cooking duties, he could fascinate us with tales of survival, or maybe give me some tips that my characters could make use of.
Speaking of characters, I'd like to share a meal with Ro, the protagonist of The Exiles of Ondd books. She could tell me what she gets up to in the next in the series. Of course, I know the big stuff that happens, but she could fill in the details that there aren't room for in the book.
If Ro was there, then there would have to be music, so I'd invite Domenico Scarlatti. He wrote over 550 keyboard sonatas. They're so evocative, I can imagine a story in every one. I could ask him what inspired him, and whether it was more than desperation to meet the next deadline.
We'd probably end the evening with a song or two (I'd have to mime as my voice is as good as my cooking), so I'd also invite the neighbours to forestall complaints. Or maybe we'd end the evening with a game. How about trying to choose our desert island discs? Now, what would my luxury be?
Perhaps I could invite Ray Mears to cook us up a campfire feast from ingredients he'd foraged in the wilds of central England. Between his cooking duties, he could fascinate us with tales of survival, or maybe give me some tips that my characters could make use of.
Speaking of characters, I'd like to share a meal with Ro, the protagonist of The Exiles of Ondd books. She could tell me what she gets up to in the next in the series. Of course, I know the big stuff that happens, but she could fill in the details that there aren't room for in the book.
If Ro was there, then there would have to be music, so I'd invite Domenico Scarlatti. He wrote over 550 keyboard sonatas. They're so evocative, I can imagine a story in every one. I could ask him what inspired him, and whether it was more than desperation to meet the next deadline.
We'd probably end the evening with a song or two (I'd have to mime as my voice is as good as my cooking), so I'd also invite the neighbours to forestall complaints. Or maybe we'd end the evening with a game. How about trying to choose our desert island discs? Now, what would my luxury be?