The way cookiemancy works is, before you open a fortune cookie, you ask it a question, and then whatever the cookie says, you interpret that as an answer to your question.  Since it isn’t actual divination, you may alter the interpretation according to whim to make it more appealing, more entertaining, more sensible, or more bizarre. 

For example, when I introduced Sarah Avery to cookiemancy, she asked whether she would be able to sell her first novel (this was the epic-length Hands of Beltresa, which currently remains unsold, although she has since written Closing Arguments, which was published by Drollerie Press), the cookie answered, The world is always ready to welcome talent with open arms.

“Well, that’s not true,” said Sarah, and was about to write cookiemancy off, when I suggested that some reinterpretation was required.  And sicne we’re both grammar nerds, I suggested the problem was a misplaced modifier–that it was not talent the world would welcome with open arms, but rather “talent with open arms” that the world was welcome.  “So, ah…” I said, not really sure where I was going, “…it could mean that…um…you will be discovered once you’ve…uh…given up and slashed your wrists?”

Needless to say, that interpretation of open arms didn’t go over big.  “Or,” I suggested, “open arms could mean you’re receptive–that talent alone is not enough, but your ability to listen well and really capture people is what will put your book over the top.”

Another time, when a question about my book (then still a manuscript in progress) turned up Give a kiss to the person who sits next to you (while at lunch with a married coworker), I read that as a reminder to seek out the advice of others and really listen to their opinions on the manuscript in progress.

Cookiemancy can sometimes happen by accident, if there’s a really pressing question on your mind.  For example, a fortune that said Your happiness is dependent on your outlook in life really restored my equilibrium once, the day after someone stole the radio out of my car.  Another time, I went for Chinese food with some friends the day after their wedding, before they’d left on their honeymoon, and we all laughed when the groom got There is still time to change your path (that was 16 years ago, and they’re still happily married).

So cookiemancy remains a part of my life–not because I believe in it, but like most of my superstitions, because it entertains me.  Because the world is a richer and more interesting place when viewed through the lens of magical thinking. 

So when Antlered Bird was released, and I picked up take out and wrote the announcement, I asked my fortune cookie how my precious book would do in the big, bad world, and I got, A dream is just a dream.  A goal is a dream with a plan and a deadline.

So I’m pretty happy with that.  It means I have work to do, but that work still makes me pretty happy.