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Glass Slipper

November 17, 2009

Reading the bio I wrote for this recent publication, I felt a bit sheepish because it’s not entirely true. I was indeed at work on a book about cake and love, like the bio claims. A book born from a lecture I gave about the complicated intersections between frosting, heartache, longing and love, toppings slithering off layercakes like thongs off oily strippers, birthday cakes and the day we don’t have to share, and guilt about the sweet treats we enjoy, sometimes too often, sometimes too alone. But, that project has been on hiatus much longer than I realised. Several months now…nearly a year.

My appetite for love has been suspended a similar duration. Placed on a shelf, grown a little furry with dust. If it were a cheese, it would be inappropriately stinky with a dessicated rind; a wine, it would be corked; a cake, it would be beyond saving, even if soaked in rum or smothered in custard. It seems that when I turned away from affection, so, too, I turned my back on the story I’ve been trying to tell for years. Perhaps, like Cinderella’s glass slipper, my book momentum and my interest in love will slip back on…the perfect fit…

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