The General
‘Good-morning; good-morning!’ the General said
When we met him last week on our way to the line.
Now the soldiers he smiled at are most of ’em dead,
And we’re cursing his staff for incompetent swine.
‘He’s a cheery old card,’ grunted Harry to Jack
As they slogged up to Arras with rifle and pack.
. . . .
But he did for them both by his plan of attack.
–Siegfried Sassoon, Counter-Attack and Other Poems, 1918
Moonlight Mistress is out December 2009 from Harlequin Spice. This scene takes place during World War One while Gabriel Meyer, a British soldier, is searching an abandoned village for German soldiers.
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Both of the house’s doors were shut tight, but not locked. Gabriel and Woods and Evans entered at the front door, Gabriel’s pulse pounding like a drum, his boot heels even louder on the polished wooden floors. The house was deserted, the red brocade curtains drawn; though it bore signs of being abandoned in haste, a scattered pile of papers here and a fallen knickknack there. The air felt stale and close, as if it had been vacant for decades. He startled when Evans said, “Sir? Are we allowed to provision here?”
The inhabitants had fled, so there was no asking them for permission. It was also true that there’d been quite a bit of freely given hospitality on the long march. And his men were not only hungry, but working far too hard to go without food. He nodded. “After we search, we’ll see what we can find.”
He mounted the stairs, leading the two boys, and investigated a workroom for sewing, a dusty parlor, and a messy bedroom. The large bed bore distinctive stains on its sheets, and the smell of sex and sweat lingered like a memory in the air. Woods lifted the bedskirts with his rifle barrel, then poked the coverlet that lay in a heap on the floor. Evans peered into the wardrobe and behind the curtains, Enfield at the ready. Nothing but dust.
Gabriel scooped up a discarded doll with impassive porcelain face and laid it gently on the unmade trundle bed. Its human hair brushed disconcertingly against his bare wrist, and he yanked his hand away, feeling as if he’d touched a corpse. If he’d married Jemima, he might have had a child with a doll; what would he have done, forced to flee his home, with his family in tow? He tried to think of the real family that lived here, but could only focus on the empty bed.
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c. Victoria Janssen 2009
More Snippet Saturday:
Anya Bast
Michelle Pillow
Kelly Maher
Mark Henry
Jody Wallace
Jaci Burton
Elisabeth Naughton
Ashley Ladd
Moira Rogers
Taige Crenshaw
Lauren Dane
Vivian Arend
TJ Michaels
Juliana Stone
Lacey Savage
Eliza Gayle
Photos courtesy of WikiMedia Commons.
Another Snippet Saturday tomorrow – the theme is Worldbuilding.
Five Ways Of Thinking About A Writers’ Conference
1. Do I have enough contacts with readers and other writers?
Hint: The answer to this is always no.
Can I afford the time and money to attend this conference?
2. Budget – where is the conference located? Are there alternative ways to get there? How do those stack up against your budgets of a) time and b) money? How does the conference conflict with other events in your life?
3. Budget – once you arrive, where will you stay and what will you eat? How do those alternatives stack up against your budgets of a) time and b) money? If money is short, how can you save money? Are there additional costs, such as registration fees or promotional items?
4. Do I already know some people attending this conference? Do I want to see them while I’m there, or can I see them easily under other circumstances? If I do want to see them, I should contact them ahead of time.
5. What is my focus on attending this conference? Teaching, learning, promotional, or a combination? Meeting readers? Meeting other writers? Attending workshops that will teach me something? Teaching something to other people? Hanging out with people I already know? Or some combination of these things? Plan accordingly.
Related Post: My Top 5 Conference Tips.
I am not a huge fan of vampire romance, so my favorite vampire books are mostly from the science fiction and fantasy genres. Here are my top three science fiction choices.
My all-time favorite vampire book is The Vampire Tapestry
More about The Vampire Tapestry on the author’s website and her essay about the book, Scarlet Ribbons (link is to part one of four – note that there are a lot of spoilers in the essay).
My second favorite vampire novel is a long, emotionally intense novel by C.S. Friedman, The Madness Season
The last book on my list is Fledgling
Please share your favorite sf vampires!
I’m in mourning for Life, a television detective show starring Damian Lewis and Sarah Shahi. It went two seasons and has been cancelled.
I heard a lot about it from friends before I actually saw it; I wanted to see it myself as soon as I learned it 1) starred British actor Damian Lewis and had 2) Damian Lewis playing a cop (Charlie Crews) who’d spent twelve years in prison for murders he didn’t commit. Not only an actor I liked, but a storyline with profound, undeserved angst. How delicious.
I got all that and more; Sarah Shahi as the angsty, ex-addict partner (Dani Reese) who constantly plays straight woman to Crews’ wacky Zen-ish koans and love for fruit, and Alan Arkin as Crews’ prison buddy (Ted Earley) who was convicted of insider trading and now handles Crews’ enormous financial settlement for his false accusation. Arkin’s portrayal is so engaging that I am not disturbed by his former crimes, which in real life would make me exceedingly angry. Shahi wowed me with her portrayal throughout.
Dani Reese is one of the best female characters I’ve seen on television in a long time. She is shown as flawed and vital, with a life that continues far beyond her role as Crews’ partner. She’s not only an excellent foil, but would have been an excellent protagonist in her own right.
In both seasons, the police captain is also interesting. In first season, the captain is a woman (played by Robin Weigert) who is the former partner of Reese’s father, which leads to all sorts of complications, especially since her father might be implicated in Crews being framed. In the second season, the captain (Donal Logue) is a fish out of water character, transferred from New York City to Los Angeles, whose working methods conflict with those of Crews and Reese; and there are personality conflicts as well.
As for Ted, he’s not just comic relief, but a character in his own right. Did he learn anything from prison? How has he changed since his wheeling and dealing days? How is he going about becoming a better man? How is that manifested through his friendship with Charlie? Is that friendship entirely a healthy one? (I still have no clue how someone in prison for insider training would end up in the same maximum security facility as an accused multiple-murderer, but I am overlooking that, the same tv-goggles way I overlook how Dr. Gregory House is still employed as a doctor.) 
And all the while, there are threads of conspiracy that Crews is attempting to untangle without losing himself entirely to violence.
I love this show for the characterization and the acting, which is all wonderful. I’m still a bit dazzled by the way Lewis can demonstrate a man holding on to himself by his fingernails at the same time as he’s spouting philosophy and picking up women on buses. It’s clear that his sometimes fortune-cookie-like moments are really intended to distract himself from an emotional maelstrom. When he does achieve moments of Zen, it never lasts. It’s a constant fight. The show provided me with all sorts of inspiration for new stories. And that, too, makes it a joy to watch.
Someone asked me recently about my office, and I told them I don’t have one.
I live in an apartment, and there’s no separate room where I can go to write. In fact, my bedroom and living room are really the same room, set apart mainly by furniture. If I write at home, I can write sitting on the couch, or I can write sitting on the bed. I’ve done both.
But more often, I go Elsewhere.
There’s a reason for that. If I stay home to write, there’s always the chance of being interrupted. People know where I live. They can call me on the phone (sometimes I turn off the ringer, but mostly I don’t, as I don’t want to forget to switch it back on). Banks and credit card companies and charities and educational institutions I attended will call, wanting to offer me stunning new services or ask for my donations, not knowing or caring that I never pursue such business over the phone. Even more than interruptions by people, though, are interruptions by ambience.
If I stay home, I can see the correspondence that’s waiting to be answered. The bathroom that needs cleaning is just down the hall, and I’ll have to see it periodically and be reminded. The laundry basket begs for my attention. Really, it talks. Even if I’m not looking at it, I know it’s there. “Wash me! Wash me!”
So I leave. I pack up my laptop or netbook and hie myself to a coffeeshop or a teashop or a local upscale mall whose food court is often sparsely occupied on weekends. I sit myself down with a cup of something caffeinated and get to work.
There’s coffee and tea and food readily available, and I don’t have to spend writing time to fix it, only money. In the summer, there’s the lure of free air conditioning. I can’t stop writing to check a reference book, because those are at home. And sometimes, just being Elsewhere seems to have a stimulant effect on my brain.
It’s true, Elsewhere has its own distractions. One major problem is that there’s no one to watch your laptop should you have to slip away from your table. I work around that. In some venues, ambient noise is an issue, either music that’s very loud or music that distracts me from writing. Sometimes, other people are talking loudly on their cell phones or talking loudly to each other. For that reason, I keep a pair of small headphones tucked into my laptop bag, and various music that I find congenial or simply loud. Finally, when I sit anywhere for more than an hour or two, I feel obliged to buy more coffee or tea. If I write all morning, I might be pretty jittery by the end of the session. Maybe that’s why I so often go walking after I write!
But it seems to work for me. My early published stories were often written by hand in the coffee shop of a Borders on Walnut Street (it’s now closed, and our downtown Borders is at Broad and Chestnut, and much more crowded, so I rarely go there to write). I wrote large portions of both The Duchess, Her Maid, The Groom and Their Lover and The Moonlight Mistress in coffee shops. I’m doing the same with The Duke and The Pirate Queen. I’m also experimenting with other venues: libraries, lobbies, places around my day job. Until I have a larger place to live, I doubt I will stop going Elsewhere to write, and maybe I won’t stop even then.
Just don’t ask me to think about how much I spend on coffee.
Related posts:
How To Write a Novel in 72 Easy Steps.
The Obligatory Writing-Music Post.
Remorse
Lost in the swamp and welter of the pit,
He flounders off the duck-boards; only he knows
Each flash and spouting crash, –each instant lit
When gloom reveals the streaming rain. He goes
Heavily, blindly on. And, while he blunders,
‘Could anything be worse than this?’ –he wonders,
Remembering how he saw those Germans run,
Screaming for mercy among the stumps of trees:
Green-faced, they dodged and darted: there was one
Livid with terror, clutching at his knees…
Our chaps were sticking ’em like pigs … ‘O hell!’
He thought– ‘there’s things in war one dare not tell
Poor father sitting safe at home, who reads
Of dying heroes and their deathless deeds.’
–Siegfried Sassoon, Counter-Attack and Other Poems, 1918
Moonlight Mistress is out December 2009 from Harlequin Spice. In this scene, Pascal and Lucilla have recently been reunited.
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Pascal tucked the blanket back over her shoulder, from where it had fallen. “You didn’t want me to see you again,” he said. His voice gave nothing away, and his chin blocked her view of his facial expression, dimly lit by electric light shining in the window.
“You’re in my bed now, aren’t you?”
“I was already here. You could hardly push me out into the night.”
Lucilla sighed. “I could have. I do want you.”
“If I happen to be present. You would not have sought me out.”
He had no right to be angry at her. She’d made no promises. Lucilla sat up and shoved at his chest with her hand. “I didn’t think you wanted to see me again!”
Pascal captured her hand in his and kissed it, hard enough that she felt the pressure of his teeth through his lips. “I did not lie to you, at Le Havre! Why did you doubt me?”
His tone was angry, but his expression pained. Lucilla found she couldn’t meet his gaze. It wouldn’t be wise to tell him that she’d given up trusting men’s words long ago. Clearly, he felt he should be an exception. So far, he had proven himself to be an exception. Everything he had done since his arrival spoke of a deeper attachment than Lucilla had dared imagine or hope for. “I’m sorry,” she said, and she was. She hadn’t meant to hurt him. She’d only worried about being hurt herself.
Pascal still held her hand. He kissed it again, gently this time, his mustache tickling between her knuckles. “If I misread your interest, I’m sorry,” he said. “I will leave if you ask me to do so. Even now.”
Lucilla snorted and squeezed his fingers. “You don’t want to stride nobly out into the night. I appreciate that you offered, though.”
“I would do it!” he protested.
“I don’t want you to go,” she said, took back her hand, and lay down again, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his bare skin. “I was afraid,” she muttered. “Afraid I would never see you again.”
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c. Victoria Janssen 2009
More Snippet Saturday posts:
Lauren Dane
Leah Braemel
Jaci Burton
Elisabeth Naughton
McKenna Jeffries
Moira Rogers
Taige Crenshaw
Vivian Arend
TJ Michaels
Juliana Stone
Anya Bast
Lacey Savage
Eliza Gayle
One of my favorite tropes in genre fiction is “girl/woman dressed as a boy.” I love it for several reasons. First, it’s just fun; there’s a long-established literary tradition of cross-dressing. Second, I love that it’s an opportunity to play with and subvert everyday gender roles.
In The Duchess, Her Maid, The Groom and Their Lover, Sylvie disguises herself as a boy while on a journey, and at one point the Duchess is dressed as a bearded man, as well. In The Moonlight Mistress there is a cross-dressing woman, but I won’t spoil the story by revealing her identity.
Here are a few of my favorites in the romance genre.
Georgette Heyer cross-dresses her heroines several times. My ultimate favorite is These Old Shades because Leonie is so bloodthirsty; my own character Sylvie was influenced by her. The Corinthian is another, and The Masqueraders offers a bonus boy dressed as a girl.
In Mary Jo Putney’s Silk and Secrets, the Regency heroine has built a life in Persia through her male disguise, which is disrupted when her estranged husband arrives and needs her help.
Nita Abrams features quite a lot of cross-dressing in her spy romances set during the Napoleonic Wars. My favorite is The Exiles, which is less about spying per se, but spying is a reason for a great deal of the plot, if that makes sense. Another woman-dressed-as-man because she’s a spy is The Wicked Lover by Julia Ross.
The heroine of Jo Beverley’s My Lady Notorious uses her disguise to be a highwayman.
Sometimes, heroines only dress as boys when they need to for the purpose of being a sneak thief. Connie Brockway’s All Through the Night falls into that category, as does Anne Gracie’s An Honorable Thief. _01.jpg)
Pam Rosenthal takes a more serious approach to cross-dressing in Almost A Gentleman. The heroine has painful reasons for her masquerade, and it becomes her life until she meets the hero. This is one of my favorites because of the way it addresses the hero’s feelings for the heroine, before he realizes she’s female.
One of my favorite authors, Laura Kinsale, twice uses cross-dressing heroines. (Hmmm, maybe that’s one of the reasons I love her books so much!) In The Prince of Midnight, the heroine again has serious reasons for hiding her sex, but she also needs to take on a male role for the sake of revenge. In The Dream Hunter, the heroine has been disguised as a Bedouin boy; the book contains many references to real-life cross-dressing woman Lady Hester Stanhope.
What are your favorites? And why?
The illustrations for this post are both images of Katherine Hepburn from the movie Sylvia Scarlett. Doesn’t she look hot?
Related Post:
My Favorite Girls Dressed As Boys – Fantasy Edition.
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