(Horribly translated from English-to-French only because Google Translate doesn't have a horrible English-to-Latin function.)

"Lucian's Cabinet" will be UNavailable for download from Lulu for the foreseeable (and unforeseeable) future.

I take this step after due consideration and upon the advice of a distinguished and trusted colleague. I have experiments that I wish to try... muahaha.

This week has been the week of mood swings, and it's not even 'that time' of the month yet. God help the planet when I decide to have kids.

A written but deleted rant and a well-deserved smack upside the head from a colleague have convinced me to attempt the impossible, and try to turn the Aubrey Merridew stories into something resembling a novel, or at least a novella. The rush of inspiration and frantic outlining were accompanied by the onset of what I can only describe as 'writer's malaise,' which is the worst form of depression a cruel pantheon of divine whatevers could have inflicted on humanity.

Really, who would be a writer if they didn't absolutely have to be? It's an intensely isolating profession, both physically and mentally—one needs to have certain things in order to write, like quiet or an appropriate background noise, the proper tools (computer, typewriter, pen and paper, cuneiform tablets, papyrus, etc—each to his own), a window and a room of her own... But even more than that, mental privacy. Some slight, temporary freedom from personal attachments, bills, outside distractions... the freedom to think, and plot, and plan. Unfortunately, once I have that, I have to set to work immediately, before the ennui and the crippling loneliness kick in. The only way to beat the shadows back is to keep writing.

Finding that balance between real life and what's going on in my head is intensely difficult. Not in the schizophrenic, "I don't know what's real and what's not" sense, but in the immersive sense. You'll often hear authors talk about their characters telling them what to do, or that the story has taken control, stuff like that. It's not meant literally (at least not usually). It's simply that to tell a good story, with settings and characters that the reader will believe in, the writer has to believe in that world even more than the reader. Example: if you walk up to a painting and stare at it very closely, you'll find that to a painter, the human face is composed of various blobs of purple and green. But when you back up and look at the whole piece, what you see now are no longer the individual colors, but a single cohesive face.

I have a similar way of working. To tell a whole story, I have to look at each person and place in great detail. Before I can write about a small part of their lives or importance, I have to know everything. It's a labor-intensive, time-consuming process. But if my work is good, then this is the reason why. But again, it's an isolating way to work. I can spend so much time with the fictitious people that I instinctively know, in any given situation, how they will react, and then be caught completely off-guard when people in my day-to-day life don't react the way I expected them to. And then, sometimes, to be honestly shaken when someone in real life actually does act as I predicted, simply because I've spent so much time observing this person and unconsciously cataloging how they handle different situations and problems, how they walk, how they dress, their speech patterns.

As I said, it's hard to find a balance. And really, who would willingly chose to go through their life like this?

*snort* Oh, woe is me, the tortured artiste.

Also in connection with this, I am slowly coming to realize that being a writer ill-befits me for discussing books with people who are not writers. I'm developing a reputation for halting book discussions in their tracks because really, all I see anymore is the scaffolding. The colors, if you will. When I read a book, I acknowledge the story with about a quarter of my active brain; the rest is taken up with "Is this character consistent? Is this dialogue appropriate? Why did that MacGuffin just give birth to a herring? Why was the villain just bludgeoned to death with a deus ex machina? Is it a deus ex machina? I have to go back to page 32 to figure it out!"

And then I try to discuss this with people who've clearly not lost sleep over what happened on page 32 (and rightly so), and what they're mainly concerned with is the all-important question of "Was this a good book? And by whose definition?"

Meaning that I am obviously lost in a forest of trees, but I can see it, because there's a giant deus ex machina right in front of me, followed by a sperm whale and a bowl of petunias.

As I work on The Unmentionables, I find I need some help. These are stories whose atmosphere can best be described as "gaslight gallows," or a combination of Sherlock Holmes and The Addams Family.

And I need some music to help me along. Music that's vaguely Victorian-steampunk-dark humor-Lovecraftian-Pratchettesque-I don't know.

I've already got plenty of Abney Park, but that's really all the steampunk music I have, and I could use more suggestions.

Any thoughts?

Title ganked (again) from one of edaxicon's blog posts. I really need to start coming up with my own titles...

I'm a big fan of Sherlock Holmes. Have been since I was about, oh, thirteen. And two particular quotations from the stories about him have always been etched into my brain:

"I consider that a man's brain originally is like a little empty attic, and you have to stock it with such furniture as you choose. ... Now the skilful workman is very careful indeed as to what he takes into his brain attic. He will have nothing but the tools which may help him in doing his work, but of these he has a large assortment, and all in the most perfect order; it is a mistake to think that that little room has elastic walls and can distend to any extent. ... It is of the highest importance, therefore, not to have useless facts elbowing out the useful ones." (A Study in Scarlet; Chapter Two: The Science of Deduction)

"Do you know, Watson," said he, "that it is one of the curses of a mind with a turn like mine that I must look at everything with reference to my own special subject." (The Adventure of the Copper Beeches)

My own special subject is, in the main, that of writing, and specifically, writing slightly off-beat speculative fiction. (I used to call it science fiction, but then Science and I had a long talk and we decided it would be better for us to end our relationship before one of us got hurt or time started to dilate.) Therefore, I tend to gravitate towards information and entertainment, and sometimes even people, that I think I'll be able to utilize in my writing. I love libraries, museums of all kinds, antique shops. I also like country fairs, RenFaires, and music festivals. I'm very picky about my choices of books, television programs, movies and music. All this gives my personal tastes an eclectic, but at the same time, a very narrow field.

Which is why the phrases "You don't know who ____ is?!" and "You've never heard of _____?!" tend to annoy me. This has started to happen more frequently since my much more media-savvy collaborator Danielle Ellison moved into the neighborhood, but it's always been a constant irritant, especially in high school and college. Eventually it got to the point where I was actively cultivating a reputation for living under a rock, so that a quizzical expression was all that was needed for people talking around me to stop and explain, or just say "April doesn't get it," and move on to another topic.

Don't get me wrong, if I want more information, I'll ask for it (and God help you). But when it comes to music, the world is not going to end if I don't know every piece of minutia about a particular singer or group. I like Queen and I like their music and I think Freddy Mercury was awesome on toast. Fabulous toast. But I could care less who their drummer is. (I do know who all the Beatles are, but I think that's one of those things you eventually uncover whether you listen to them or not. There are also a lot of cartoons that I never watched growing up, and as a child of the 80s, I should be ashamed of that, stuff like Transformers, He-Man and/or She-ra, and Thundercats. I just wasn't allowed that much TV time as a kid, and frankly the animation hurt my eyes.)

This actually has a lot to do with why I don't watch a lot of comedy. Well, anything, really, but comedy in particular. It's basically because I can't do anything with it. My husband adores Monty Python, but I can only take it in very small bits, because somewhere in the back of my head, I find myself thinking, "Wow, this is such a waste of time. I mean, it's drop-dead funny an' all, but I could be doing something creative right now." Of course, this is just my personal opinion, and I really do enjoy Python, but it's not something I'll actively seek out. Comedic movies are the same; they just don't do it for me. And yet I love stand-up comedy. Go figure.

I also dislike most dramatic movies—partially because of the time factor, but also because I'm a novelist at heart, and I tend to become over-invested in characters and plot, and the simplification needed to wrap up a story in the standard 90-120 minutes of the average dramatic film just doesn't cut it for me. It's one of the reason I'll willingly subject myself to the convolutions of authors like Hugo and Dickens: the payoff takes forever, and I love that.

I will watch certain dramatic shows, but just to prove that it makes no sense inside my head, I prefer dramas with a vein of comedy (NCIS springs to mind), I think because in real life, there's always funny moments. You need that humor to lighten the dark times, and conversely, seriousness makes levity that much more amusing.

Really, what this ramble boils down to is the fact that I have no capacity to relax and just stop thinking about writing for a few hours. And if someone is trying to entice me into watching or listening to something I have no interest in, then no amount of Queen trivia or Little Britain is going to save them.

I'm with Holmes on this one. There just isn't enough room in my brain.

(The Unmentionables at Lulu.com)

Lately, I feel as though I should have some sort of motivational poster in front of my Official Work Computer ™, something like the bumper stickers one sees on the highway: "I'd Rather Be Writing" or "My Other Car is a Quill Pen," something like that. I can't put an actual bumper sticker on my car, though; whenever I do that, I tend to get rear-ended. (True story. First the Gay Pride sticker, then the Tolerance one.)

But obviously, I'd rather be writing than doing anything else. However, it came to me late last month, as I was scrambling to get my new website in order and to put Lucian's Cabinet up for sale, that there's a distinct difference between the act of writing and the business of writing—that is, the marketing, the networking... You know, the shilling. It's a distinction that should probably be obvious, but as my nearest and dearest constantly tell me, I'm the least observant person the gods ever wasted eyes on. (Actually, only I say that.)

And therein lies my problem, really. An analytical mind is something I do not possess, so trying to determine the best way to go about whoring selling myself leaves me in a bit of a pickle. (Things like The Ten Awful Truths About Book Publishing don't help either.) And then, even when I do figure out what I need to do (blog, listings, adverts, FB/Twitter, etc), it's a bitch to try and force myself to do it, because as soon as I sit down at the computer with every good intention of doing good sober business, I get distracted by a trip of plot bunnies and wander off after them.

Because really, I'd rather be writing.

Now that I'm not quite as giddy from all the New Year's fun, I'll try to write that last post in a more serious vein...

On New Year's Eve, I did something I've been planning to do for months: I put up "Lucian's Cabinet", the first of my Unmentionables series of short stories, for sale at Lulu.com. (Read about The Unmentionables series here.) "Lucian's Cabinet" is $2.75 per download. (Most of that is Lulu's base price for hosting the document--$1.49, to be exact, which means for every copy of this story that is purchased, I'll be making a $1.01.)

This is a huge step forward for me, because it means striking out on my own, without an agent or a middleman (something I've never done before and am not eager to try right now). It means not submitting to an established magazine or publishing house, just selling the stories directly to the public as affordable, (between $2 and $5, depending on length) downloadable .pdfs that can be read on the computer or printed out. I means that what little revenue I make comes directly to me. And let me tell you... the idea scares me to death. But all my readers here are fantastic people, so I'll see how it goes.

Happy 2010, East Coast! I give you mead, many smoochies, and best of all, the first of my Unmentionables stories, available for purchase as a .pdf download from Lulu.com.

#1: Lucian's Cabinet - $2.75

"Leave it to my lawyer to come up with a name that confuses a vital public service with ladies' underwear."

Follow the adventures of Aubrey Merridew, the richest madman in Alish, as he tracks down ghosts, demons and aliens, and all while wearing a dashing pink top hat. Short stories in the tradition of Sherlock Holmes, it's gaslight meets gallows humor in... The Unmentionables!

(I was going to wait until 12:01 am, but really... why wait?! XD)

Cuz this shit's goin' DOWN!!!!

At roughly exactly 12:01 January 1st, 2010, the first Unmentionables, "Lucian's Cabinet," will go on sale for PDF download from Lulu.com!!!!!!

Price will be $2.75. (Wooo, full disclosure! Most of that is Lulu's base price just for hosting the thing--$1.49, to be exact, which means for every copy of this story that is purchased, I'll be making a whopping $1.01! Great! I'll be able to pay off my student loans in time to begin saving for my funeral in no time!)

So if you're around LJ-Land on January Onest, keep an eye on this journal, or at the Unmentionables page at my website.

Last night I dug up a novel I wrote in my 1st and 2nd years of high school. And... wow.

It's awful.

I mean, I knew it was bad the moment I finished it—I remember that distinctly, and I remember fully intending to go back and rework it into something of marginally less suckitude, but in those days I wasn't a big fan of the whole 'editing' thing. In fact, the idea of rewriting a novel I'd just spent two solid years working on intimidated the hell out of me. And I never did get around to editing it. At some point in college I printed it out so I'd have a hard copy, and I'm very glad I did, because shortly afterward I had a computer burnout that wiped seven years worth of work—my lifetime's work, actually, up to that point.

Also, I guess in 9th grade I didn't really fully comprehend the notions of plagiarism and copyright infringement. The novel in question was basically a name-change of a crossover fan fiction written by a friend with whom I've now long since lost touch (a great pity, she was an immense inspiration in those early days), and whose composite world she had very kindly given me permission to play with and continue… on a strictly fanon basis, mind you.

Over the years, the fan fiction and my work of blatant theft the original novel I'd based on it faded from my thoughts. Recently, though, I revisited those initial pieces of fan fiction, both hers and mine, and decided to rewrite some of my stories strictly for my own pleasure. In doing so, two things happened:

-- my revision of my rather simple and silly piece of fanfic suddenly morphed into a commentary on the supplanting of pagan beliefs by Christianity in 5th century Ireland

-- I remembered that the original author and I had traded several emails about some of her characters, and as I was going to be working with those characters again, I decided to check my files to see if I still had the hard-copies of those emails. I don't, but I found the manuscript of my rip-off novel.

No, you can't see it. It's disjointed, derivative, and full of modern speech patterns... The three best scenes in the whole book are only good because they were written jointly with the original author. I mean, I'm seriously shocked. I remembered some problems with story continuity but I had no idea the dialogue had aged so very, very badly. Also, there are a lot of thinly disguised portraits of high school classmates in that book. Very thinly disguised… it reminds me of an exchange from the MTV show Daria:

Mr. O'Neill: "You could read one of your essays! What about the one about being a big misfit whom everybody hates? The other kids'll really relate to that. I know I do…"
Daria: "I don't know if that's such a good idea. That's the one about comparing the sophmore class to barnyard animals? It names names."
Mr. O'Neill: "Oh yeah…"

Not quite that blatant, but yeah. There are people from high school I haven't thought about in YEARS who were suddenly called to mind when I read that stolen book again.

(By the way, the reason I'm not named the fandoms or the person in question is because A) I am well-aware now that what I was doing in high school was wrong, and I don't want to profit by it; B) the reason I'm rewriting my own fanfic now is for my own pleasure and edification—editing, I've come to realize, is good for the soul. But fan fiction as a discipline all its own is near and dear to my heart, and I should probably do a ramble about it one of these days.)

The point of this long-winded digression is that I wrote this book in my freshman and sophomore years, and it's really quite bad. I spent most of my junior year avoiding trying to edit the thing. And then in senior year, I wrote "Egg of the Damned," which while not spectacular, has a plot that's at least 90% coherent and possesses an undeniably unique setting and cast of characters.

And the crux of that improvement, I believe, is the fact that the story was conceived while I was visiting Great Britain and Ireland for my 17th birthday. I'd spent two years wandering through a high school trying to write a high fantasy, and all I got out of it was an additional year of just trying to forget the book

It's amazing what a brief trip abroad can do for one's abilities... what a brief trip anywhere can do for the creative mind. I used to be completely unable to write at home or in my dorm room at school; everything I did was done in longhand in class or in the library. All I did at home was type up what I'd written that day. It's become easier now that I spent most of my time working in an office, but I still carry at least three notebooks wherever I go.

So that's my first, best cure for writer's block: wherever you've been spending most of your time writing, get up and go somewhere else. Down the hall, down the block, across the border or the ocean, just change your location. If nothing else, you'll have something different to stare at while you struggle with your plots.

For the newbies, if you've ever wondered what the hell I'm talking about when I say "The Unmentionables," I've uploaded a new PDF file feature to the page in question, entitled 'What the deuce are "The Unmentionables"?'

And surprisingly, I'm not talking about ladies' underwear.

Happy Early Decemberween, everyone: http://www.aprilfrench.net

Yup, finally got off my butt and finished the thing. *is proud of little self*

What's There Right Now

• A delightful homepage.
• A riveting Bio page.
• The Unmentionables: Summaries of upcoming stories and an excerpt from the first story, "Lucian's Cabinet," available in Janunary.
• Other Sundries: 2 stories in PDF format for free download ("Oddities" and "Patience," which are also available here) as well as a link to my antique print novella, Egg of the Damned. There are also some summaries for upcoming projects.
• Samples of kilinka's artwork for some future projects.
• Links to other intriguing and special writing and art/comic sites.

What Will Be There Soon

Many more stories! Containing never-before-seen words, writ most excellently by me! For sale, even!

Don't forget to follow me on Twitter (afwkickshaws)!

EDIT: Thanks to a donated token, this journal has now been renamed kickshaws. To the donator: THANK YOU!!!!!

This is a Public Service Announcement. I would like to—

Goddamnit, why is it that whenever I decide to stop doing something or take something down, the universe invariably throws it up into my face that I really shouldn't?

I finally make up my mind to take down everything I've got stored over at FF.net, and then I find reviews in my email begging me to finish the giant V for Vendetta story that I abandoned years ago (it's not going to get finished, but I think by now all you V fans have learned to love me for myself). I decide to delete my fanfic LJ, and the next damn day a friend mentions that journal on a comm, potentially driving traffic to a collection that's only going to be there for another couple of months, tops.

*grumble* Feckin' universe...

Anyway, yes, this is a PSA, letting everyone know that I'll be deleting both my FF.net account and my fanfic journal graphiteslog sometime within the next two months, preparatory to opening my new website.

The new site will be my professional homepage. I'll be offering monthly short stories for PDF download from Lulu.com (it looks like they'll be costing about two bucks per download), the occasional longer piece, and some freebies. There will also be news and artwork from my upcoming projects. The site should go live sometime in December, with downloads to begin in January 2010. I hope to see you all there!

My writing journal will remain active. I do use the thing, after all. However, it may be undergoing a name change in the near future, something a little less project-specific, but that'll have to wait until I've got the $15 for a name change. (If anyone would like to donate a name change token, I will not object. I have no pride whatsoever.)

I'm not doing anything special for Halloween, but in honour of the modern version of the holiday, here's a gift from the vaults: from the dawn of horror hosts, I present to you Zacherley: The Cool Ghoul. Happy Halloween!

I'm currently researching self-publishing options with an eye to putting up some stuff for sale in January of 2010, and I'm curious as to who here would actually be willing to pay money to read something that I wrote. Please comment below with your responses.

Please note: arclayn, 6wolves1spirit, giftofgalliard, l_loire and kilinka do NOT need to respond to this post. I already know what your answers are. ;)

Woke up at 6 am this morning in the dark and in the cold thank you very much Real Job. Opened my email and thought, "Oh, an email from Scribophile (a really awesome and helpful online writing/critiquing site that all budding writer-type people should give a try). I bet they're telling me who won the Computer Love Contest that I entered last month. Oh, and they sent me a gift as a consolation prize for not winning, that's sweet of them." So without actually bothering to open the emails, I go over to Scribophile and WHAT THE F@#% I WON THIRD PLACE?! With all those other so much better entries to chose from, my crappy little contribution about gay human/robot love won third place? Holy hell.

But it r trufax:

3rd place: Patience by April French
An incredibly tender love story with excellent characterization and dialog. The quiet emotional power of this piece really stuck with us, and April managed to make the characters extremely believable and relatable in just 3000 words.

And the prize they sent me? This wee bronze trophy.


Ain't it cute?

So in honor of my small win, and in thanks to the gods of Internet who make all things possible, here's the story (you can also read it at Scribophile; no need to have an account).

( Tero had never wanted a robot partner. He'd also never asked what the robot wanted. )

Please leave any thoughts, comments, flowers, chocolates... promises you don't intend to keep... I'm not picky, I'll take 'em all. :)

(This response to arclayn's comment in this entry got too long, so it gets its own post.)

I guess I didn't say it quite right. The thing about Tia-chi-chuan was a suggestion for you that, despite the cat girls, you seem to be looking for more reality in a comic book... unless I am reading your post wrong? ... Anyways, it was not a justification for previous fiction written by others. You know me enough that I am not that shallow.

Of course I know you're not that shallow. :) On the contrary, I am indeed looking for more reality in a comic book; however, I'm not looking for another way to give phenomenal cosmic powers to women the size of 3rd-graders. I want to see women like me in comic books—women who are plus-sized, broad-shouldered, and shudder at the very thought of skin-tight anything. I'd also like to see women who've gone to some trouble to acquire their muscle mass and aren't afraid to show it off. There's always the other extreme of female body-builders, but then, I don't think body-builders of either sex are physically attractive.

Well-known example: Sarah Michelle Geller as Buffy Summers. The character is strong and toned and is definitely capable of defending herself, but the sheer scope of what she's able to do as a Slayer—hurl vampires and demons through walls, drive wooden stakes into people's chests (not an easy task)—is beyond credibility. "Ah!" say the BtVS fans. "But she was given special abilities by The Powers That Be to fight evil and yadda yadda blah blah blah."

My response: Did she ask for those powers? Did she work her ass off to get those powers? No; they were forced on her. She was made into the Slayer and to hell with whatever plans she'd had for a normal life (thought I don't know how normal the life of a teenage girl in California is, these days). At least they didn't make her wear a stupid uniform.

In summary, what I want in a female sci-fi action hero actually wants to be someone who can, in fact, hurl their opponent through a window and not cause the audience to go "How is that physically possible?" Because everything in the media affects the public perception of reality, and let's face it, reality is screwed up enough as it is.

In particular regarding video games. You may not like the justifications that are used to explain game-play mechanics... but as the great Shigeru Miyamoto has said: great game design starts with designing how a game plays first, and then the story comes after.

Designing how game mechanics work is completely separate from designing how a character looks—if it was related, then the gross over-exaggeration wouldn't work. And I hesitate to point this out, but like the majority of video game designers I've heard of, Shigeru Miyamoto is a man, designing games and characters for what is, again, popularly seen as a predominantly male market.

Take KOS-MOS from Xenosaga (chosen because she's a character you know, I know, and because she's on a giant wall-scroll in my living room Brian). Now I ask you: is this not one of the most outrageously impractical designs for a battle-robot in the history of, well, anything? Yes, I know, it's just a video game series. Yes, I know, she's hot. (And yes, she is.) But really... high heels? A garter? And why, over the course of three games, must she grow progressively more naked? How is this relevant to her functions? It's not. But it is relevant to the interests of the (again, perceived-to-be, because I know plenty of female exceptions) largely-male gaming population.

I'm not a prude. I don't think sex should be taken out of video games or comic books or movies, or anything, really. And I do think that KOS-MOS is rather smokin'. But as she was designed (by Kevin Winnicot in the game and by, I believe, Kunihiko Tanaka in RL), she's not a battle-robot; she's a fembot.

Come to think of it, I don't know of any female game designers off the top of my head. Are there any? Anywhere?

Even looking at Super Mario, who is simply a thick mustached plumber in red/blue overalls... he can jump four to five times his own height (far exceeding the best basketball players), and I need not get into the super-mushrooms, fire-flowers, and the water levels in which he never drowns. And yet Super Mario is a legend among peers, like him or hate him.

Super Mario is very much an absurd surrealist fantasy fairytale and an awesome one—but it still succumbs to the traditional fairy tale structure of 'rescue the damsel in distress.' We still have to deal with Princess Peach, who seems to get kidnapped in every single bloody storied game she's in! And the same with the Legend of Zelda games: Zelda gets kidnapped and rescued, kidnapped and rescued, even though she's arguably a much stronger character than Peach. But think of how awesome it was in SSB Brawl when Zelda gets to let loose and kick ass! Why can't we have that in an actual canon game?

I know both of these franchises date back to the birth of video games, when the medium was new and game developers needed simple, familiar storylines to attract customers. But gamers are much more sophisticated now, and it's time to take the old stories to a new level.

Comic books do not quite follow this model as the story must come first. But comic books are also born of over-exaggeration, whether it be Batman or Invasion from Mars. Heroes and villains are all larger than life, gargantuan even, no matter how you want to explain it.

Not quite true; as a matter of fact, many comic books start with a character design and then have a story built around them. Batman is a good example of this. But over-exaggeration can be dangerous if taken too far; there are people who go around in capes and masks being real-life superheroes, after all.

Yes, the college class did discuss the poll on anorexia further... including that good psychiatrists, like good scientists, caution against generalizations. It's too easy to blame anorexia on "the media", "male dominant industry", "Photoshop" or what-have-you. While those efforts certainly don't help, it is still a generalization and a hasty one.

It's not a generalization nor is it hasty: it's a documented combination of a number of different factors, of which the above-mentioned are only a few. Public perceptions of acceptable standards of beauty and attractiveness are a contributing factor, but I did not and do not now say that they are the only ones. Pressures to be thin and attractive, for both males and females, come from many sources, and when they are added to an already poor self-image, then problems start. Those pressures can be from parents, from peers, or from the media; however, as we live in a media-inundated society, it would be wrong to ignore the importance of movies, television, and the Internet in the creation of the 'acceptable' public image.

But for those women who want to be so petite so badly that they will starve themselves... they are electing to make a conscious decision to do something very unnatural, further adopted as a new natural behavior... motivated by what is commonly believed to be an image or self-esteem problem... All I am capable of doing is insist that such women stop damaging themselves.

Drinking is a conscious decision as well; so is using cocaine and other drugs. So is undergoing plastic surgery. All of them can become addictive behaviors, destructive and impossible to stop without help, which as you point out, is not as easy to get as it should be.

And it is not 'commonly believed' to be an image or self-esteem problem, sir: that is the key motivating factor. It's a psychological disorder.

What those artists do is what keeps them employed... What about their employers? They're catering to an audience or otherwise risk becoming irrelevant and bankrupt. What about the audience? That's us! You and me and everyone else! The "media" does have power to show us what they want us to see, but at the same time it is a competitive field for our attention, ensuring that the audience does have the final say. They can be turned off, if we are willing. It does require that conscious choice, though.

Yes, those artists are employed, and I know some of them aren't too thrilled about it, but hey, they need to make a living the same as you and I, and art is how they make their living. It's very easy to say 'find another job,' it's a lot harder to actually do it. My question is not, 'Why are their employers catering to their audience?' but 'Why isn't the audience demanding something more?' and 'Why aren't the industries cultivating other markets?'

An anonymous essay from Spearhead.com, on how women are destroying science fiction, is making the rounds of the Internets, as are many, many rebuttals.

So here's the essay: The War on Science Fiction and Marvin Minsky

And here's some rebuttals!

A Boy's Own Genre, or Not, by John Scalzi

Women, Gays Apparently Ruining Sci-Fi For the Rest of Us, by Paul Constant

For the record, Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus, the first novel widely considered to be science fiction, was written by Mary Shelley (a woman). Also, some of the best episodes of the original Star Trek ("A Journey to Babel," "The Enterprise Incident") were written by D.C. Fontana (also a woman).

And just to round things off: Was the photoshopped Ralph Lauren model fired for being overweight? -- Yes, because 5'10" and 120 lbs is overweight.

It says something about society at large that even a large woman like me has to do a double-take when she sees a comic book character who's not skinny in spandex.

When first designing the characters for Ternion, I made a conscious decision that all the women would be normal-sized women. 'Normal' from my perspective, anyway, which means Sizes 14 and up. Because c'mon, you have to have some heft behind you if you want to handle your enemies like they're bags of oats. A small petite woman is more than capable of defending herself against a large and enraged male attacker, but I don't know that it's physically possible for her to bench-press her 300lb assailant and hurl him across the room. (Logic and physics? In a comic book? No, say it ain't so!) So I wanted some more realistic characters, if nothing else. Even if it has questionable morals and never becomes a hit, at least it'll make us curvy girls feel good.

This morning, I got the prelim sketches for the protagonist, Mijan (no, the pale space is not exposed flesh), and the antagonist, Sariel. And I have to admit, I was rather taken aback, because they were both drawn to my exacting *whipcrack* specifications and… I guess I just hadn't fully prepared myself for what chunky female action heroes would actually look like. After about three seconds, I was pleased as punch, but in spite of them being precisely what I wanted, I still had to adjust my method of thinking.

And dammit, that's not right. :( Why are curves not considered sexy and feminine anymore? Why is being well-padded a sin for women?

Yesterday, there was an article about supermodel Tyra Banks and her recent weight loss, and her motivation to drop from a Size 14 to a Size 8.

"I remained that size for two years. I maintained it with my ice cream and my salad with ranch dressing and croutons and bacon bits."

Wow, that's harsh. I was completely unaware that Tyra Banks was a champion of so-called 'real beauty,' and after reading this article, I'm completely unconvinced. Look at those two pictures of the supermodel and decide for yourself which one is more indicative of 'real beauty.' Personally, I'm in favor of the photo on the left. The one on the right looks underfed.

Pass this post around. Cross-post, retweet, whatever. Add your own perspectives, whether they be on comic books, on curvy women, or on beauty. For my part, I feel better about my chubby robot already.

I apologize for the lack of updates. Okay, that's the last time I am ever going to say that. I think we all know by now that I suck at updating things and that when I have something important or interesting to blog about, I'll say it. /paperwork. Right, moving on.

I've had a very busy summer and early fall, partially due to the usual vacation-work-RenFaire-ing all over the place schedule, but mainly because The Boy (aka Brian/The Spousal Unit/The Husband) is back in school and his classes are scheduled at obnoxious times, which drags me hither and yon because we've only got the one car. Yes, The Husband. There was also a marriage in the last several months... somewhere.

I'm currently working on three projects: one traditional novel and two graphic novels, both to be illustrated by the always-amazing Danielle Ellison. Someday, I will have titles that are longer than one word. Someday...

( Zero )

( Dommi )

( Ternion )

Please comment. PLEASE comment.

Also, I'm currently trying to build a more professional blog or website, and I'm looking for a good place to host. Any suggestions?

In the meantime, please follow me on Twitter (afwkickshaws).

Christian Group Urges Burning of Francesca Lia Block Book

In West Bend, Wisconsin, a Milwaukee-based Christian group is urging readers to burn a book from the "Weetzie Bat" series by YA author Francesca Lia Block.

And from the source article itself...

"Baby Be-Bop" is on a list of titles that a local group calling itself the West Bend Citizens for Safe Libraries objects to seeing in the public library. In February, the group asked the library's board to remove a page of recommended titles about gay and lesbian issues for young people (including "Baby Be-Bop") from the library's Web site. Then they demanded that the books be moved from the youth section of the library and placed with the adult collection, "to protect children from accessing them without their parents' knowledge and supervision."

Christian Group Sues for Right to Burn Gay Teen Novel

In a scene which appears to have been lifted straight out of Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451, a group of Christians in Wisconsin has launched a legal claim demanding the right to publicly burn a copy of a book for teenagers which they deem to be "explicitly vulgar, racial [sic], and anti-Christian".

Because in a country that simultaneously preaches liberation and repression all in the same breath, young adults can't be trusted to choose their own books a) about gay people without turning into teh ghey; b) with racist or prejudice language because even if that language is purposely used to expose racism and prejudice; and c) because even the suspicion of minute traces of anti-Christan rhetoric immediately brand a book, a book's author and a book's readers anti-Christian and anti-American, in spite of the fact that said rhetoric might be in passing or part of a character's integral makeup, that said author may have been trying to make a point about the dangers of anti-anything rhetoric, and that the readers might not be Christian at all.

Book Burning, from the American Library Association

( The Top 100 Books Challenged in the Decade From 1990-2000 as Listed By the Office for Intellectual Freedom. )

120 Banned Books: Censorship Histories of World Literature, by Nicholas J. Karolide, Margaret Bald & Dawn B. Sova

A friend of mine recently had a bit of a professional trouble that's made me stop and think.

Rod is a very talented writer of comic books (and the occasional novel) who is trying to get his career off the ground, rather like the rest of us. Normally, the artist he collaborates with is his equally talented wife Leanne, but since she's swamped with projects for the rest of the year, he had to look elsewhere for artists to illustrate his latest endeavour, Sovena Red.

Then things got a little... complicated... with one of the artists.

"Well, I soon learned that he was only prepared to give me two options with minor tweaks for the sum I was paying him. I complained this was not explained from the beginning. I have never (until now) had the experience of working with an artist who wanted to charge me more money (outside the agreed upon fee) to try additional layouts… $50 bucks a pop. No way! That’s not what we agreed to. But then he simply flipped and went nuts. After several back and forth emails with me trying to be as professional as possible, he is not prepared to let me withhold full payment. I paid him 50% upfront, fairly standard for a lot of artists. But as I’m unhappy with the services thus far, I do not want to proceed any further. Therefore, it’s over. My right as a unsatisfied client.

"He doesn’t want to let it go. Stupid, right? In such a small industry, being a jerk over small money like this just damages your reputation as a professional. He is going to walk away with a stack of my dollars without delivering anything to me, and yet he feels he has legal grounds to get it all." (Read the rest here.)

Now, if I were to classify myself as a writer, it would be the opposite of Rod—a writer of novels and the occasional comic book—and thankfully the artist I'm currently working with is as unknown and pretension-less as myself. But I enjoy seeing my stories illustrated, regardless of medium of format, so it's not inconceivable that I might find myself in the position of hunting for an artist someday, or even of being in the same predicament as Rod. Which brings me to my read question...

Where do artists (and I'm including writers, film-makers, and performers of all stripes in that category) get off on being such disrespectful assholes? No matter how good you are or think you are, there's always room for improvement. And in spite of what your swollen head and groupies are telling you, there will always be someone out there who is better than you are, at writing or drawing or building sandcastles or whatever. There's always room for improvement, and remember, you're not God's gift to anything. You started as an unknown and you can still end that way. It's never wise to alienate potential customers, because angry people talk. Worse, they Instant Message. And Rod is being very ethical about this whole situation, because he could be taking every opportunity possible to spread this artist's name abroad and warn fellow writers about how much of an asshat he is difficult he is to work with. But as far as I know, Rod isn't doing that. He's holding his temper, chalking it up to experience, and looking forward to Heroes Con next week. All of which is more than I'd be doing, if I'd been screwed over this badly.

Rod's a friend. He's offered me encouragement and support when I badly needed it. The same goes for Leanne. No one--no one--deserves to be treated like that, but artists especially should not mistreat one another. We're misunderstood enough as it is.

www.rodhannah.com
www.leannehannah.com