Dead Pan

Writing became easier when I realized: mine is a morbid muse.

I can’t help it. Sex, death, and disgust are the things people remember best. I have too much gag reflex for the third, and too little suspended disbelief for the first – so you see what I’m left with.

It doesn’t help that a lot of my relaxation reading revolves around culinary topics, so when I try to use “active language” it is liberally sprinkled with verbs like cut, chop, dice, and sauté. (I frequently self-edit injunctions to “add a splash of…”.) Fortunately my distaste for outright gore rescues me from Hannibal Lecter territory; mine is a “dry” kind of death. Deadpan, if you will… and probably with a splash of sherry.

Recipes welcome in the comments!


Published by Marushka

I dream curiosity and write words that change brains.

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