Soup Mistress Sarah, pleased to meet you. I’m a mom and writer, but let’s face it, mostly a mom. That’s kind of how mothers roll, especially when they don’t “work” in the traditional “trading goods and services for money” sense of the word. I write about my life, and about vampires and witches and stuff, but not usually at the same time.
Dear Friend, I am stranded in a foreign country and need money fast! How can I reach you?
I am sorry to hear of your tragic plight. I suggest commenting on a post, which is also a good way to figure out if I’ve abandoned this virtual nest in the series of tubes or just haven’t redecorated in a looooong time.
What do you have against soup?
Nothing. Really. I love soup. It uses up leftovers and can always accommodate both lentils and sausage, two foods that make my world go ’round.
There’s sort of a story behind the name, but I decided to be mysterious in that totally not mysterious because it’s just plain withholding information and don’t ever do that in fiction or I’ll put down your book way. So I’ll stick with the half-truth of “It’s a Seinfeld reference” and pretend that’s as filling as clam chowder.
If you don’t get the Seinfeld reference, you’re too young to be here and you’re making me feel old. Stop it. Go text someone or Google that Bieber guy or whatever you kids do these days. And keep it down. And get off my lawn.