On cats, clockwork and otherwise...

Clockwork kitten. You know you want one.

When I write, like most writers, I hold an image in my mind of the story as it unfolds. When I was writing Dangerous Science the images were very specific. The study in Dr. Cromwell's home had high ceilings and opened to a library that was a rather narrow, deep room. The streets of London were gray and gritty and steamy. Gladys was petite, pretty and prim. Dr. Cromwell was tall, brooding and solid.

And then there was Claudette.

Steampunk is wonderful because you can throw fantastical creatures or creations into the story and it somehow works. In most Victorian stories you don't run across cats, let alone clockwork ones. When I considered all my herione, Gladys DeWalt, had been through, I felt the story needed something that would make her smile. So I came up with Claudette, the clockwork kitten she's given by the eccentric scientist who saved Sebastian Cromwell's life.

Who can't smile when they think of a clockwork cat? Well, except for cat haters. And if you're a cat hater, you are excused.

I love cats. I think most writers love cats because they are such wonderful companions for those of us in the profession. They are quiet and - being independent - don't generally make a lot of demands of their human companions. That's good if you're up against a deadline.

My kitten, Dorian Gray. It's "Dori" for short.

They're not at all slavish. I have two corgis; they think I'm wonderful no matter what I do. The cat makes me work for her affection. This is good practice for writers; with cats you learn the value of working to please one's audience.

Some of my favorite writers have cats. Ernest Hemingway was famous for his polydactyl cats, so much so that even now six-toed cats are called "Hemingway Cats. There's a fantastic book on Hemingway's cats here if you're interested.

My favorite author, Neil Gaiman, often references or includes cats in his books and other writings. There was a cat in Ocean at the End of the Lane, and his short story, The Price was adapted to a fantastic video that I find frightening, uplifting and strangely touching.  Sir Terry Pratchett, whom I adore, mentioned cats frequently in his Discworld series. I think my favorite of his quotes was about Death's reaction to someone less than enthused with felines:

“I hate cats."
Death's face became a little stiffer, if that were possible. The blue glow in his eye sockets flickered red for an instant.
"I SEE," he said. The tone suggested that death was too good for cat haters.”

 I was pleased to see that a reviewer actually mentioned Claudette in her flattering assessment (thank you!) of Dangerous Science. Friends who've read the book have asked me if Claudette will come back in the next one? My answer is, "Of course." Cats are not only excellent companions for writers, but for characters as well.

"Dangerous Science" steams to Top Ten in Steampunk!

Top Ten in Steampunk on Amazon.com
Thank you all so much!

Today is the day I've been waiting for - the release day for Dangerous Science. Well, technically yesterday was the day. But along came an ice storm and the time I'd set aside to promote my book release on social media coincided with the horrific crash and pop of ice-laden branches descending on area power lines.

It was a long, frustrating night.

Today, the roads cleared and I made my way to the cottage on my parent's property which still has power. It's warm and comfortable here, and I've been able to use the WiFi to get back online and do a little networking. That makes me happy, but not as happy as the news I got from my publisher who just called to tell me that Dangerous Science is now #8 in Steampunk on Amazon and in the top 100 for SciFi Romance!

I'm overwhelmed with gratitude. Steampunk is a genre that I simply adore. It is so rich in possibilities, and the writers of Steampunk, I've found, are such a fun, clever lot. So are the writers erotica, and the friends I've made in Steampunk circles and via Blushing Books have been so helpful and encouraging and supportive.

I could not have asked for a better partner than Blushing Books.  Putting a book out there for public consumption is big, scary step. One never knows how it will be received, and I'm just so pleased that my debut novel is doing quite so well as it is.  I honestly could not be more grateful.

The pleasures of tea

 

It's snowing today. It started early this morning, with two interruptions for sleet. Now everything out is white or cocooned in ice. If I got mail today, I'll have to wait until it warms up to find out what it is. My mailbox is frozen shut.

This afternoon I filled my birdfeeders and then put the kettle on for a pot of tea. I had tea whilst watching my cats watching the birds. It is a good day for bird watching, cat watching and tea. But really, every day is good for tea.

Tea has become something of a ritualized addiction for me. If it were not for tea, I may not get out of my pajamas on some days. Over the years I've acquired beautiful tea sets. Some are very fine and very old. I feel it is wrong to take tea from a beautiful tea set while wearing something that doesn't at least honor the ritual. So I get dressed daily, for teatime.

Tea is relaxing. It's a good time to mull things over when you're alone, or a good time to socialize if you're lucky enough to have friends who appreciate taking tea.

"I'll put the kettle on," is my response to bad news, or good news, or when visitors stop by. I used to have a whistling teapot but I forsook it for an electric kettle that's faster and more efficient. What blend I use depends on my mood. My favorite specialty tea vendor is Teavana. They sell exotic blends. I also keep the old standards on hand - Lipton and PG Tips. The latter is favored by the British gentleman renovating my house. I sometimes think he'd work for tea; he says no one here makes it properly, so he was thrilled to find out that we take tea. It's nice to give him a little taste of home.

The Victorians were big on tea time, and tea is quite popular in Steampunk culture. There are Steampunk tea societies and Steampunk tea parties. It's hardly surprising. Tea, like Steampunk, allows us to combine the traditional with the exotic. It's another reason to love both.

I've been toying with the idea of having a virtual tea time with other Steampunk enthusiasts. I've not yet figured out how to go about it. It's something I shall have to ponder over - of course, - a cup of tea.

#SatSpanks - - In praise of the perfect villain

I wonder if what I'm doing right now is normal.

Here I am,  a few days from the February 12th release of my erotic Steampunk adventure, Dangerous Science ,and I'm already thinking ahead to what I want to do differently in the next book. Don't get me wrong - I'm pleased with Dangerous Science, and I hope you will be, too.  The main characters, Dr. Gladys DeWalt and the enigmatic Professor Sebastian Cromwell are brilliant and sexy. There's a villain in this story, but he's neither brilliant nor sexy. He just thinks he is.

I'm not saying that the villain in Dangerous Science doesn't cause his fair share of trouble. He's sneaky, spiteful and a a total bastard and I can guarantee you will hate him. But I think in my next novel Gladys and Sebastian will be up against someone who is just as brilliant. In fact, he may be so brilliant that he'll be harder to hate. And maybe that's OK.

Some readers prefer an unlikeable villain. But I have to say I'm not one of them. I like those lines to be a little blurred. I like it when you feel such begrudging admiration for the bad guy that you fear his demise.

I can't write the perfect villain. As far as I'm concerned, he's already been written. If any of you happen to be fans of Sherlock Holmes, then you'll know just what I'm talking about when I tell you there's a name, a name no one says. Jim Moriarty. In the books he wasn't sexy, but in the BBC production of Sherlock, Moriarty has a certain sex appeal that was enhanced by intelligence.

But enough about other villains. For now we have the nemesis in Dangerous Science, Dr. John Reubens, who if not brilliant still deserves respect as a Bad Guy. After all, only a villain would scheme to land an accomplished colleague like Gladys DeWalt in such a humiliating situation at the hands of the uncompromising Cromwell, which I now tease for you here.

“You’re scared.” His voice was calm. “I know you’re scared and well you should be. I don’t relish what I’m about to do, Gladys, but given the outcome for you should you slip my authority, I’m convinced beyond a doubt that it’s for the best.”

There was no further preamble. Sebastian turned Gladys and pushed her over his knee. She was numb with shock at what was happening; by the time she recovered her senses there was no time to struggle, not that it would have done her any good. Her guardian had a firm grip around her small waist, and she was helpless to extricate herself no matter how hard she struggled. Gladys cried out as she felt her skirt being lifted, and launched into a stream of threats and profanities when she felt her undergarments being tugged down. But words were as useless as her struggles against such disciplinary resolve.

 - Dangerous Science

I know if I were to find myself living by the leave of an elegant yet stern Victorian professor, I'd be most aggrieved at the person responsible for my plight. On the other hand, when one thoroughly consider Gladys' situation, maybe John Reubens is the perfect villain after all. :-)

Naughty, naughty: The steamy underside of Victorian society

Things are not always as they seem...

 She cried, “Laura,” up the garden,

“Did you miss me?

Come and kiss me.

Never mind my bruises,

Hug me, kiss me, suck my juices

Squeez’d from goblin fruits for you,

Goblin pulp and goblin dew.

Eat me, drink me, love me;

Laura, make much of me;

For your sake I have braved the glen

And had to do with goblin merchant men.”

 --- From "The Goblin Market" by Christina Rosetti

It's not just what one sees in Victorian Society that captivates. It's what one does not see.

On the outside, things seemed perfectly restrained by a strict moral code that functioned much like a too tight corset. However, behind the closed doors of brothels, secret clubs and some homes, that uptight morality was being unlaced by men and women who valued the appearance of propriety over propriety itself.

In short, the Victorians were wildly and beautifully freakish.

The above poem is an example. The Victorian-era writer, Christina Rosetti, maintained that the poetic tale of two sisters lured away by goblins was written for children. But it was rife enough with sexual imagery to raise doubts. All the elements of an eroticism were there - the consumption of forbidden fruit, burning lust and, finally, an orgiastic sapphic frenzy.

Even when Victorians like Rosetti tried to be good, they were sometimes naughty. And the ones who tried to be naughty could be downright hedonistic. Brothels were legal, oddly enough, but men were expected to be discreet. Somehow, though, this wasn't enough. There were scores of secret societies for those who wanted to get their fuck on, and these clubs catered to a number of particular bents. There was the Flagellant's Club, for spanking was BIG in Victorian times (another reason to love the era). And there was the Mollies club, for gay men.

Pornography was wildly popular, much of it featuring men and women at the end of bundles of switches. Victorian parlors were, apparently, great places to get birched. Girl on girl nudie pics were in big demand. The proper lady who met her friends for tea may later masturbate to a contraband copy of "Lady Pokingham" or bend over while her patrician husband spanked her willing bum.

What is it they say? A lady in the streets but a freak between the sheets?

Perhaps it the chameleon in me that loves the duality of Victorian society. Where some people are excited by gratuitous displays of bare skin and raw sexuality, nothing excites me more than the unknown Freak Potential of a reserved man in a three-piece suit, especially if he is polite. As he holds the door for me, I nod appreciatively and wonder if, perhaps, he has a cane at home. And if he does, is he wondering whether I'd bend for it? One can hope.

The fantasy of techno-Victorianism

Ask me to name one of the most beautiful, fascinating women who ever lived and I won't hesitate. her name was Tasha Tudor, and here's her picture:

Tasha passed away in 2008 after living her 94 years exactly as she wanted to. She was an author/illustrator who often said she'd been born in the wrong era. But rather than long for what she could not have, Tasha Tudor created her own little reality. On her picturesque farm in Vermont, she existed as one would in Victorian times. Tucked away in an idyllic world untouched by modern influences, she wore period dress, lived without electricity and in her contentment she created wrote and illustrated beautiful books like Corgiville Fair, Pumpkin Moonshine, The Doll's Christmas and Around the Year. 

I don't just admire Tasha Tudor. I strive to be Tasha Tudor. Like her, I'm drawn to the Victorian era. I love tea sets and flowing dresses and formal dinners. I love having a dashing man offer me his umbrella in the rain, even when I have my own. But unlike Tasha Tudor, I love my technology. Show me a gadget and watch me light up. Usher me into a pretty parlor full of books and tech toys and you risk losing me entirely.

So what's a modern girl to do when she loves both the rituals of the past and the latest inventions? She embraces Steampunk.

What is Steampunk? It's hard to describe. The simplest definition is that steampunk is a sci-fi genre
set in the past, where everything is powered by steam. Steampunk is Victorian futurism where the worlds of tradition and stuffy customs collide with fantastical steam-powered inventions that never existed, and never will. Imagine a world with massive dirigibles and submersibles, automatons and mad scientists, dashing men and gutsy women - adventurers all. And then there are the monsters, from leviathans to robots, and villains armed with whatever weapons exist in your mental arsenal.

The action can take place in Victorian London or the American West or the East Indes or even distant planets. Those of us who are more traditional are happiest setting our stories in London, especially those of us who think we were not only born in the wrong time, but the wrong place.

I love the idea of mixing traditions of the past with an imaginary technology that surpasses even what we can do today. I love mixing corsetry with sidearms. I love the idea of charting unexplored lands and returning to a cozy parlor overlooking the Thames. I just love everything about it.

I love Steampunk. I love it so much that after years of writing for my own personal pleasure I decided to share my love of this fantastical realm with others. So I wrote a book.

It's my first, and I'm quite proud of it. I do not yet know how it will be received. It's not typical of other books I've read. This one has more sex - enough, in fact that it's been picked up by Blushing Books, which publishes some very sexy reads. And the book contains some spanking. That may not be everyone's cup of tea but again that's the beauty. In Steampunk you create your own world and in mine there are sexy scientists, intrigue, animal attraction and some discipline.

The release date is February 12, and I was advised to start this blog by some more experienced writers who were kind enough to advise me that the best way to market one's book is to market one's book. A blog is, apparently, a good tool for the marketing type. So here we are.

I'll be writing on topics other than my book, but for today this is enough. If you are interested in this book, or have any questions or comments there's a place for them below. I look forward to hearing from you.