It happens every February: there’s a respite in the weather, the sun comes out, and (like today) the temps climb into the 60s. The crocus and daffodils start blooming, and the pussywillows start appearing. Is it heaven? Nope, it’s Mardi Gras; that fabulous pre-spring time of year when the jazz radio station starts playing the Neville Brothers, Dr. John, and songs like Rump Steak Marinade and Iko Iko.
Although I’m not the religious sort (and I’m not trying to offend anyone who is), but I think Mardi Gras and Fat Tuesday as a sort of a fantastic well of inspiration for fiction writers– especially fantasy. All the costumes and masks and secret societies and rituals and pagan roots; it all comes together into a delicious melange that almost begs to be a story setting.
And then there’s the food.
It’s not quite warm enough for shrimp on the barbie, but perfect for shrimp in the gumbo with all the trimmings, ice cold beer (or a hurricane), and a good movie– like Angel Heart, The Big Easy, or Live and Let Die.
Mmmm. Let the good times roll.