Mimsy Borogove I love your name and the visions it evokes. I see you in a 1920s dress with pearls and a headband dancing the twitterbug with other fun people in front of The Ritz House Orchestra. You drink cocktails and love to go to country house parties which you get to by cadging a lift in a friend’s convertible or by catching the 11.34 from Kings Cross station and arriving just in time to get changed for dinner. Your take your summer holidays in Cannes at a friends villa and are often to be seen at the casino or swimming in the sea or playing golf on the promontory overlooking the bay.
Although I love your name I have made no effort to look for you. I never want to meet you or see what you look like because I don’t want to be disappointed. I just happened to see your name once in my twitter stream. I don’t want to find that you aren’t what I imagined and neither do I want to find that you are exactly as envisioned but have nothing of interest whatsoever to say.
I will read your book when it comes out though if you let me know about it which will be difficult unless you find this post when searching for mentions of you using Google. Please leave a link:)