I’m pleased as punch my panel has been accepted for South Atlantic Modern Language Association’s annual conference. The panel will only be successful if other people are interested in talking about “Food In Fiction” too, so please spread the call for papers far and wide! The conference will be held in Atlanta November 7-9, 2014.
For all the fixin’s, click here and scroll to page 34 for my listing:
Serendipitously, last week’s Tin House’s Flash Friday by Caitlin Corrigan includes a passage that struck me as appropriate for the subject. Of course, what to do with it is up to you:
When she was better they went to a shrimp boil in the courtyard of someone’s cousin’s apartment complex. Folding tables buttressed by foam coolers. She stood with strangers and reached into the pile of things to eat. Damp newspaper, boil mix and garlic tingling her cuticles, a warm lemon wedged in her palm. Potatoes, half ears of corn, fat shrimp in thin skins. She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. It was dark back there. They ate without looking or talking. They sucked the heads dry. The pile of food got low and it was too dark to tell who said it first—Houston, we have a problem—they all said it, put the phrase on repeat, a murmur that never stopped being true, not even when the next pot was drained and they were called again: eat.