19th Century Remedies?

I found a very enlightening article on the Steampunk Blog, Xerposa all about 19th Century Remedies

Nothing quite like a tonic to cure you ... or kill you.
My favourites would be either the Male Impotency Belt, the Hysterical Paroxsysm gentle massage for Hysteria, and last but not least, Mrs. Winslow's Soothing Syrup for Teething Children. But who am I kidding? All of the remedies are real eye-poppers. So grab your coffee and click on over to the Xerposa Blog, which is a pretty neat place to be lurking on a Friday morning. Especially when it's raining. Like it is here.

Robots, Zeppelin's, and World Building, oh my!

We were talking about the characters in my current story-in-progress while at the dinner table recently. My son, who I think should have said "robots" as his first word instead of "fish" since he loves them so much (unless of course he meant clockwork fish which would entirely make sense) anyway, his eyes lit up at the subject of designing a metal man. Because, as we all agreed, how can you know what a character looks like if you don't have a good picture in mind?

I know many authors use celebrity photos as a source of inspiration for the physical look of their characters, but in the case of a Steampunk story, there aren't many gentleman walking around (or any) who have brass rivets and metal skin to use as a model for a romantic hero. So, here we go then. World building.

I love world building. It is just so exciting to think up different ideas for "how things work" and research the snot out of sometimes obscure subjects that I would never have come across had I not been inclined to inquire about them in the process of creating the foundation of a story. Yes, it takes a long time to gather all your facts, and, yes, it can be frustrating sometimes when certain elements don't fit together as well as you would have liked, but lets face it, anything worth doing, is worth doing well, and that includes world building.

So what does a metal man look like, whose innerds are made of clockwork gears and steam powered gadgetry?

Well, my son grabbed his pencils and paper and came up with this design:

A "hex" apparently is the charm which makes the automaton alive, and I love the brain cable which travels the whole way through so the metal man can move. He really put a lot of thought into how it might all work.

And then because he was still so excited, he drew a few airship design as well, including, of course, lots of active guns, and the puff-puff of a steam engine.

Who could not love such enthusiasm? I am wondering if my love of world building isn't just an adult version of the same creative fantasy we enjoy as a child. Because my eyes shine like my son's do when he gets inspired to draw, and my heart races as I settle at the keyboard to jot down my notes.

So, how far would you go in the creation of a story-world? How much detail do you think is necessary to make a fantasy world believable?

For my part, I have spent well over a year researching, amongst other things, automatons, armor, steam powered propulsion, alchemy, Victorian society, gemology, and of course dirigibles...and as much as I have discovered and used to mold the aspects of my story together, it never feels I know enough.

By the way, if you ever wanted to know what the inside of a real dirigible looks like and know some useful facts about their travel applications, an amazing book I found in my Internet travels is called, Zeppelin; the story of a great achievement (c1922) and it can be downloaded for free here: http://www.archive.org/details/zeppelinstoryofg00vissrich 

Do you think there there can be "too much" when it comes to researching for a book concept? Or is knowing your subject in depth the key to a well built world?

Know What You Write.

Today, I was thinking to blog about World Building, or Steampunk, as both are subjects close to my heart, but settled on the topic of "journey's" instead. Why journey's, you say?
Well, there are all kinds of journey's in life. Going on vacation is a favourite type, of course. So is starting an exercise plan. Quitting smoking. Becoming a parent. Yeah, that's a biggie, eh? A journey that never ends. But there are emotional journey's we go on as well as the physical. Like the roller coaster anxiety of writing a test. Getting married. Going through a divorce. Whatever the situation, in all journey's, who we were at the beginning of the journey is different than the person we are at the end.

Writing a book is a journey. Which is one of the reasons I started this blog, in the hopes that the ideas I stumble across on my personal journey of writing down the stories in my head, may be of use to others. I have been writing seriously now for five years. Learning and practicing the art of putting together a story, and along the way, I had to sit down and think about what it was I enjoyed most about the books I read. I mean, how can I set out to write a book if I don't know what  kind of story I find most pleasing myself? What truly grips me in a book and keeps me turning the pages until 3 am, or 4, or even later, knowing full well I'll be hitting the coffee pretty heavy the next day as a result?

The answer is simple. Regardless of genre, a good story to me, is one which takes me on a journey. I grew up reading sci-fi and fantasy. Loved, from an early age, going to far-off imaginary worlds and places where I would see new and fascinating things through the eyes of the characters. But it was always the emotional journey, the choices the characters made along the way and the things they learned about themselves as a consequence, that really made the stories gripping. As I grew older, I discovered other genres: historical fiction, romance, mystery, horror. But always it was the stories where the characters went on a journey, both of body and soul, that made me never want to put the book down.

Diana Gabaldon is absolutely masterful in her scope and ability of writing a journey. In Outlander, Claire travels through time to find her true love and true self, a journey made exquisitely believable by the ofttimes painful choices Claire makes. Life is never easy, but its that very hardship which makes the achievements and joys so worth fighting for and cherishing.

And in stories, the idea is exactly the same. It doesn't matter the length or genre; as long as there is a journey that can involve the reader emotionally, the story will be successful in keeping the reader doing what we all want as writers...reading.

What are some of your favourite books? How important is the journey in them?

Description or Distraction?

Not long ago, I had a conversation with a friend about the book she was reading. Did she like it? Was it a keeper? To which she replied with a “meh” face and shook her head.

“What’s wrong with it?” I asked, surprised. The book in question shall remain nameless, but suffice it to say it was by a well-known author of popular main-stream fiction, and I had assumed she would enjoy it.

“Not really exciting,” she said. “I keep skipping through it.”

“Really?” I asked. “Why?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. There’s too much description. It just seems to get bogged down. I mean, do I really care what color someone’s pants are or what kind of shirt they’re wearing? What’s the point in that kind of detail?”

What’s the point, indeed.

The problem I think my friend had with the book she was reading, was not with the descriptions the author had written, but their relevance. It’s easy to write on auto-pilot. To think, “inset description here” and add in a few details to describe a room in order to flesh out a scene. What takes a bit more effort, though, is making the description relevant to the point of view of whichever character happens to be hosting the scene, and relevant to the story as a whole.

Take my living room for example. It’s undoubtedly a mess to my eyes. I see the dirt on the carpet that needs vacuuming, the dust that needs Swiffering away, the toys left in a pile on the floor, ready to trip the unwary. So what do you know about me from those few details I have described? I have kids, and my living room needs cleaning. Going a bit deeper, you could wonder if maybe I’m a clean-freak who obsesses about every piece of dirt. Or maybe I’m just too busy to pick up and clean up, and could really use a helpful maid. (Really. I need a maid.) Either way, the point is, description does more than add details to a scene, it builds character.


Someone else would see the same room quite differently than I, of course. Point of view is so important; it really changes everything that is "seen" in a story. A bookworm might ignore the dust and toys in favour of the very large bookcase stacked full of rare books that takes up most of a wall. A kid would see little else except the toys on the floor and the fun they embody. What types of books and kinds of toys those might be, would depend on the scene being written and how it relates to the overall story. Because description does more than build character, it builds a story. And every detail counts.

Every. Detail.

If a detail doesn’t count, then why is it there? Why describe the carpet as chocolate-colored, or plush, or wool, unless it means something to the character "seeing" it and engages the reader to keep reading instead of putting the book down. Description should never serve as a distraction; it should bolster good dialogue and add depth to a scene. It should never be some sort of fluffed-up filler that bridges one line of dialogue to the next. Because, as my friend pointed out, it’s very easy for a reader to become bored and skim through chapters if the description is just not appropriate.

Have you ever read a book where the description in a scene popped you right out of the story? Did you put the book down or give it a second chance?

The Great Corset Debate

Underwear has always shaped us, in our bodies and our ways of thinking. I read a good article this morning all about corsets, the beginnings of their design and evolution to near extinction with the switch to bras. You can find it here:
http://www.collectorsweekly.com/articles/everything-you-know-about-corsets-is-false/

The idea under attack in the article is the truth about the long-standing belief women cinched their waists to as small 13 inches. The author claims such reports as false, citing a lack of documented evidence to verify the truth of the matter. But here's my thinking: corsets were designed to be sexy, to make a woman's figure as sleek in the tummy as possible while pushing up the breasts into eye-catching proportion. And just like today where we tend to idolize the svelte figures on fashion magazines, striving to become as sleek and supposedly-sexy as possible through diet, exercise, and when that doesn't cut it, using a knife to reshape our natural form, you can bet your sweet heiney that women-of-the-past, wielded whatever weapons they had at hand to make themselves look socially beautiful.

There was more at stake back then. Today's modern woman can, if she chooses, say, "this is horse sh*t" to what is fashionable and wear a potato sack if she likes, because we've have employment with decent wages, we have independence, we don't need to catch a husband to survive. But back in the Victorian era and before, we did. We needed to do whatever it took to get ourselves married to a man who could support us and our children, and if it meant cinching a corset to the smallest waist possible, despite the indigestion, pain, and other health-problems which squashing internal organs would cause, then so be it. Women would, and did, and still do whatever it takes to make themselves more eye-catching than the next rival. Just ask your local plastic surgeon how much he makes a year.

But I don't think it's ever been just about rivalry and fashion. Social customs aside, corsets are undeniably sexy. So sexy women dare to wear them on the outside of clothes these days, to show just what they can do for their figure. Like a good pair of high heels, wearing a corset feels sexy. I'm sure there were Victorian women who enjoyed the feeling of a tightly bound waist, who didn't feel "dressed" until they had their corset in place, who enjoyed the sensation of being undressed, layer by layer, lace by lace, when their husband was inclined. Isn't that the ultimate draw of historical romance novels, the slow building anticipation which happens only in the undressing of a corsetted woman by her lover?

I look at my own waist and think, "13 inches....erm, not even close" and I don't really feel a strong desire to find a corset made out of adamantium steel in order to get it that way. But how about you? What do you think of corsets?

Chrono what?

So...it's Friday the 13th, and January of the year the Mayans said the world will end. What better day to start blogging!
Right?
'Cause who knows how much time we really have. Which makes me think this post is actually about time and timing and all those watch-related things.

I've come to the realization I'm chronometrically challenged. For instance, I've had this blogger blog space thingy for the past, um, two, or is three, years but never used it. Not even once. I've checked out other peoples blogs for sure, posted comments, written lots of other comments blogger refused to post (grrrrr), but avoided actually writing my own blog or even looking at it because...I just wasn't ready. That's what I told myself. "I'm not ready." I've been "not ready" for many things for a long time. Like finishing my stories. Lots of starts there, lots of words written, lots more words not written though, because, "I'm not ready."

Problem with being an eternal coffee pot, percolating away, but never getting brewed, is that time still passes by, and the coffee gets stale and if left on the heat long enough, burned. Then you have to throw it out and start a fresh pot. What a waste.

What a waste of time if I don't use the precious moments I have each day to finish those stories and blog about my journey as a writer every once in a while. I'm actually excited about this year. I'm sure it will be filled with all sorts of interesting things, good and bad. But for the first time in a very long time, I feel "I'm ready." What that means, I'm not quite sure, except...

...it's Friday the 13th, and January of the year the Mayans said the world will end.

And for me, it's a new beginning.