Erotica with Soul

Number 257

2010-02-25T21:51:00.001-06:00

(Post Number 257, that is) Wherein I say, farewell!

Oh, I'm not going anywhere...but my blogging is. For reasons I explain on the NEW blog, I'm more or less retiring Erotica with Soul. Of course all the past posts will stay here in their resplendent glory, but I don't currently plan on updating.

So please git yourself on over to the where it's all happening now. I said git. When you get there, it should look something like this:

Why Won't 1.4 Million People Like Me?

2010-02-18T19:23:00.005-06:00

Everyone wants to be liked, but for entertainers--be they artists, musicians, actors, or writers like me--the matter is a little more serious. The old adage "you can't please all the people all the time" is true enough, but entertainers better be pleasing more than a few, or they are out of business fast.

That said, few of us want to be "sellouts." That is, we don't want to be slaves to public opinion, with nothing to say but what we think you want to hear. There may be money in that, but there's no satisfaction, nor are we making much of a contribution to art.

So it's quite a balancing act. As for me, I have a passion to be original, but at the same time, I really hate the "I'll write what pleases me and I don't care who else likes it" attitude. If I'm not entertaining and/or edifying anyone but myself, I should just shut up!

I'll admit though that I'd love huge popularity as much as the next person. Who wouldn't find it flattering to have their book on the New York Times Bestseller List, to be invited to be on talk shows, to get a movie deal? So I, like many of my fellows, am forever wondering what might be the next hot thing that half the world is dying to read about. If only there were some reliable way to know!

This very issue was addressed this week, of all places on the Sirius XM Broadway Channel. Host and Broadway genius Seth Rudetsky gave a little rant about popularity. He brought up how the now-famous and successful show "Avenue Q" was pooh-poohed when it first debuted. A musical with Sesame Street-style puppets singing about adult subjects like racism and homophobia and pornography? What audience was there for something like that? But shock of shocks, it became an enduring hit. Seth also brought up a favorite of mine, the TV show "Glee." Who would have thought a show about high school show choir kids would amass the rabid following it has garnered in merely a half season?

The point, according to Seth, is this: NO ONE KNOWS what is going to be popular. There is no way to predict it, no formula or science that will reveal a sure way to create a smash hit. The obscure beginnings of books like Harry Potter and Twilight and Carrie gave no sign that their authors would become wealthy celebrities. So if you're an artist, the best thing to do is be true to yourself, create what you do best, and not worry about popularity at all.

This is the first time I heard such a philosophy explained that way and it really hit home. It was so nice to have the burden lifted of trying to guess what might make it big!

I have a couple personal anecdotes to share here which really relate, I think. First anecdote: While my book How to Catch and Keep a Vampire has gotten like 95% great reviews, more than a few reviewers have suggested it was written simply to capitalize on the vampire romance craze. Well I can't speak for the motivations of my publisher when they originated the idea. But I accepted the project because I'd loved vampires all my life and had written vampire romance before anyone heard of Twilight. I had all kinds of ideas concerning vampire dating and couldn't wait to put them on paper.

I think this fact shows in the content of the book itself. As a reviewer wrote just this past week, "I love Diana Laurence's approach on an already heavily populated subject matter. She turned a prevalent idea into something unique." That's because I was sharing my own true insights, not trying to ride someone's coattails. Okay, that's the tooting-my-own-horn side of the issue. On the flip side....

This past week a reviewer also called the book boring. I admit it, she really disliked it. Which serves as my second anecdote and proves the point that no matter how an artist strives to produce something 100% irresistible, he or she just can't. You might have a dozen people who just adore it and become fans for life, but there will also be that occasional person who not only isn't won over, he or she actually thinks you sort of suck. There's no accounting for it.

And as Seth so wisely expressed, there's also no accounting for what will not only get an overwhelmingly positive reaction (every one of my books has that) but rise to prominence and widespread fame.

The past couple weeks I've watched as someone who created a "Can This Pickle Get More Fans Than Nickleback [sic]?" Facebook group amassed going on 1.4 million members. There's just no predicting something like that. Likewise Cake Wrecks, LOLcats, and Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.

Yup, a person has to just do his/her thing and try to make the world a better place in whatever size way comes to pass.

Time to Revise Your Hot Villains List: Christoph Waltz

2010-02-01T20:54:00.007-06:00

Those of us who keep track of the hottest villains in cinematic history have had to bump a new member to the head of the class: Christoph Waltz, who appears in Quentin Tarantino’s latest gem, “Inglourious Basterds.” The Austrian actor portrays Hans Landa, the Nazi officer known as “the Jew Hunter,” and his performance has garnered some two-dozen-plus acting award nominations and a growing list of wins.

(It’s always nice when I crush on someone age-appropriate.)

This character makes Anthony Perkin’s Norman Bates seem sane, and Malcolm MacDowell’s Caligula look nice. In case you haven’t seen the film yet, I won’t ruin any of the surprises...but suffice it to say, he commits all kinds of traditional Nazi acts of despicable vileness. The thing that sets Hans Landa apart is not so much what he does as how he does it.

Like the most well-bred of princes, he wields gestures both charming and graceful, all the while maintaining an air of menace so overpowering that you pray to just get it over with (whatever horror “it” will prove to be). Does his smile seem bright and congenial? Give it a second and it will wax demented and terrifying. And if you’re entertaining the hope that you might outsmart him, forget it—he’s three steps ahead and is simply toying with you.

In rereading that paragraph, I find that it could just as easily describe a number of characters that have come before Hans Landa. The charming but lethal Nazi is, after all, a cinematic cliché. I’m afraid words just can’t do justice to this particular performance, to this character who is equal parts fascinating and horrifying, and both at the same time. Mad props to Tarantino for writing him—and as I writer I recognize that element of the brilliance—but as Q.T. himself has said, it is Waltz who raises Landa to a triumphant level.

I think perhaps it is because Hans Landa is so utterly convinced of his own righteousness and even benevolence that he comes across not as an evil fellow who can feign charm, but rather a man whose graciousness is actually—somehow!—sincere. He seems to think he is utterly right, perfectly congenial, amusing, amiable, even while he inflicts unspeakable brutality on his fellow man. He is, in short, completely mad; and even after you embrace this truth about him, the depth and quality of his insanity will stun you again and again.

As will the fact that Hans is, somehow, likeable.

Not that a guy like this can evoke any true emotions but hate and fear...but he is endlessly entertaining to watch, from his employment of perfect English and French along with the German (it’s awesome that all the characters speak the languages they are supposed to), to his chess-player-style cool logic.

Why is it always so amusing to be attracted to characters who make your skin crawl? Just one of those quirks of the human race, I guess. I’m sure the last thing on Christoph Waltz’s agenda in executing this incredible performance was to be sexy, but I’m afraid like countless well-portrayed villains before him, he definitely is.

Next up, Waltz will be appearing as Sigmund Freud in “The Talking Cure,” scheduled for a 2011 release. I’m so glad he has finally broken into American film and only wish I’d discovered him before now. In the meantime, he’ll be raking in more deserved awards for his role as Hans, the least of which is his inclusion on my list of favorite film villains of all time.

The Spark is Gone -- Should You Move On?

2010-01-11T18:19:00.003-06:00

Of all my blog posts, none is so popular as “How to Get Over a Crush” (not even the one I did about Erin eSurance, LOL). It’s obvious this problem plagues a good portion of the population.

One of the commenters on the post raised a very good question last week, and I promised to address it with its very own post. Rachele told me about her crush on a work associate and her temptation to leave her long-time boyfriend for the man. The problem? She’s lost the romantic feelings for her boyfriend, even though she knows he loves her. But Rachele is no dummy; she recognizes that she may be chasing a dream that can never be realized.

I’m a fiction writer, not a psychologist, but you can bet I have a few things to say about Rachele’s situation. So at the risk of attracting lovelorn googlers in droves once again, I will share them with you.

Anyone can figure out that a person you don’t know as well as you know your partner can be misleadingly attractive. If s/he has enough traits that appeal to you, your romantic imagination will fill in the blanks with all kinds of irresistible qualities. Your mate, on the other hand, is very much a known quantity. You know all about his/her flaws. You’ve discovered the incompatibilities. The mystery is gone, you can’t help but take each other for granted, and you wonder if you should trade for a new model.

It may actually be possible that the new person has opened your eyes to the shortcomings of your current relationship. You may indeed have settled for less, or gotten involved for the wrong reasons, or truly grown apart. The important thing is mentally to set aside the new guy or gal, eliminate them from the decision-making process, and take a clear-headed look at the pros and cons of what you have.

The litmus test for a good, “keeper” relationship is not “spark.” Feelings of romance, adulation, and raging sexual attraction are wonderful (I should know, I write that stuff), but they are not requirements for long-term love. In fact, familiarity inevitably dims them.

Instead, look at your partner and ask yourself these ten questions:

1. Does s/he make sacrifices for you? Is the relationship one of fair give-and-take?

2. Is s/he honest, loyal, trustworthy, faithful? (That sort of person is not as commonplace as you think.)

3. Is s/he reliable, dependable, there for you even when it’s not pleasant to be so?

4. Does s/he respect you, bolster your self-esteem, treat you well in the presence of others?

5. Does s/he support you in your personal goals and believe in your ability to achieve them?

6. Do you share a similar (or mutually respectful) attitude about important issues like religion, politics, family values, having or not having children?

7. Is it typical, when the challenges of life don’t interfere, for you to enjoy being together doing just about anything?

8. Do you have a reasonable amount in common, shared interests and tastes? And for those you don’t share, do you take an interest just for the sake of the other one?

9. Can you communicate effectively in spite of your personality differences, especially when mutual understanding takes some effort? Are you both willing to put in that effort?

10. Do you have a mutually satisfying physical relationship? (This has nothing to do with any perception of “normal” or “average”; all that matters is that you are both content.)

I have had one marriage that was sorely lacking in nearly all these areas, and one that succeeds in all ten, so I know whereof I speak. My current marriage is not perfect, and yes, there was a rocky time when I was even tempted like Rachele. But enough of the ten areas were strong and healthy that it was worth it to work on those that needed improvement. On the other hand, in my first marriage (which scored about a 1 out of 10), there absolutely wasn’t enough to work with.

In my humble opinion, if you examine your current relationship and find most of these areas to be healthy, you shouldn’t throw over your partner no matter how thrillingly attractive the new person appears to you. You have a solid thing going. It may not always be exciting, vibrant, and exhilarating, but if you switch to the new love-object, in a few years (or even months) he or she will likewise lose that luster.

And the day will come soon enough, believe me, when having a caring, trustworthy, devoted best friend will mean a lot more to you than having a partner in heated romance.

For the latter, I recommend fantasy and fiction. Which brings us back to my real job. :-)

The Cynical Goody-Goody and Her Men

2009-12-22T21:17:00.003-06:00

I suppose this is as good a topic as any for Christmas Week....

A new visitor to this blog might not expect this of the author of a blog with “erotica” in the title, but anyone who knows me at all is well aware: I am a total goody-goody. Yes, even about sex, which I really want to be wholesome and healthy all the time. While I’m anything but perfect (I could list dozens of faults for you, but that would not be Christmas-y, LOL), I am also a ridiculously upstanding citizen. I have fears of and/or aversions to drugs, drunkenness, breaking the rules (even jaywalking), sexual perversions, cruelty in any form, etc.

Meanwhile, I harbor no illusions that reality is a safe or comfortable haven for goody-goodies, as must as I wish it were so. You see, I grew up influenced equally by Rodgers & Hammerstein musicals and the terrible headlines of the late 60’s. I love books and movies with happy endings, but I’ve found very few people in real life who behave anything like the fictional characters I idolize. I spent 15 years married to a gay man who (understandably really) was unfaithful to me for all of them. Meanwhile, I am now married 15 years to a man who has been faithful to me for all of them.

Life has certainly sent me a mixed message.

I am not really changing topics now, as you will see shortly.

My regular readers know that I spent a lot of months quite devotedly fixated with Neil Gaiman. Certainly that wasn’t the only crush upon which I’ve expounded here, but probably the one you could most thoroughly study were you interested enough to go back to all the posts (and who would be? LOL).

So what happened with that? Well, as always happens, I eventually saw enough about him that I didn’t like, and my infatuation died. Don’t get me wrong, I still admire (and one might even say am still in love with) the genius qualities about the man. I certainly adore his work. but I couldn’t sustain the romance with those faults just so up-in-my-face. The emotions went dormant...they only come out occasionally when they are directed toward an utterly imagined version of Neil that is obviously all my concoction.

I recognize that it is neither fair nor reasonable for me to withhold my infatuations from less-than-perfect guys. I know all about real life and real people. But I just can’t help it. When the guy I crushed on all freshman year was snide in the way he signed my yearbook, I was devastated. I’ve reacted likewise to idols who have (1) gotten arrested for public drunkenness, (2) “defected” to another sports team, (3) been caught using drugs, (4) treated their fans coldly, (5) divorced their wives for other women, etc. (I’m not referring to Tiger Woods here, but you can guess my opinion of him.)

Christmas is a very romantic time to my mind. Just as we all strive to find the perfect gift, throw the perfect party, have the perfect family gathering, at holiday time I think about perfect romance. I get really sentimental about whatever celebrity I might currently be dreaming about. So more than ever, my demanding goody-goody heart cannot tolerate less than heroic behavior.

A few days before Christmas this year I glommed on to my holiday-time fixation for 2009. I saw singer/songwriter Ben Folds as a judge on the NBC show “The Sing-Off.” I can’t resist anyone who can talk intelligently about music, particularly in such an upbeat and good-natured way. I checked out his music more fully and found I really love it.

The Internet is a curse to goody-goodies such as myself. You can hold on to your illusions about a celebrity for only as long as it takes to Google them and read some biographies. Ben Folds’ “crime” is that he’s on his fourth wife. Now the rational, cynical, coldly realistic part of me says, “You can’t judge a guy (a) when you’ve never walked in his shoes and (b) when you don’t know him in the slightest.” My best guess is that Ben is like most people: really wonderful in many ways, really terrible in others, and no worse than average.

Still, my goody-goody self yearns for a man who can talk brilliantly about music in an upbeat and good-natured way, and also has no flaws at all. Yes, I know I’m a terrible person. Didn’t I mention that right up front? The best I can do is be in love with the part of Ben Folds that initially caught my fancy, and give the rest of him the benefit of the doubt. That sort of works, but not as well as I would wish for. Bummer, but that’s life.

That said, what keeps my goody-goody hopes alive is that not all my idols have done things to let me down. I’m sure they’ve got faults too, but they are not such apparent and glaring ones that I can’t overlook them, even with my insane standards. A couple of examples of my personal heroes who have not failed me in any respect are Guy Carbonneau and Les Stroud. Both of them are brilliantly talented in their respective fields, and seem also to be good, principled, disciplined men.

While I don’t necessarily fantasize about these two every night anymore (not that I’m admitting I ever did, ahem!), I can and do think of them fondly whenever they come to mind. I appreciate and treasure them for being in that tiny category of heroes that have managed to remain on their pedestals. And icing on the cake is that both have had actual personal dealings with me and treated me with great kindness.

By the way, there’s one more guy in this tiny, special category that I should mention: The one I’ve been married to for the past 15 years. I figured out pretty fast that David was a man of principles and integrity, and time has proven me right.

I may have a ridiculous way of crushing and uncrushing on people, but in the final analysis, I’m no dummy.

Holiday Dreams Redux

2009-12-03T21:46:00.006-06:00

Three years ago I blogged about my favorite holiday fantasies and I’m in the mood to indulge again likewise. While my real life is pretty darn good Christmas-wise (happy, healthy, employed family; super awesome husband; great cats hiding under the tree, etc.), it’s still fun to imagine the holiday in some alternate universes....

A Dexter Christmas in Miami. The charming serial killer takes me for a ride on the good ship Slice of Life, as the sun sets on a glorious tropical day. His boombox plays “Christmas Island,” Jimmy Buffett carol covers, and steel drum songs, and we sip mojitos. Dexter’s heart blooms with holiday cheer as I tell him that even though I know all about his nefarious career, I completely get it. No one should be alone on Christmas, after all! Forget Rita and “the kids” for now; this is a night for me to enjoy Dexter’s wit and dangerous good looks.

A “Lie to Me” Christmas in Las Vegas. Cal Lightman takes me on a preview of the Strip (I’m going in real life in January for the first time), for who better knows the ins and outs of Vegas? Watching him see through every poker face, and listening to him whisper about hidden truths in that great British accent, I’m eager to get him back to our glamorous suite. We’ll eat pricey hors d’oeuvres from room service, drink champagne, and play Truth or Dare. Of course he always wins, but that’s not a bad thing....

WMHS Christmas Concert with Mr. Schu. In this one I can sing exactly like Idina Menzel, and get to join the “Glee” gang as guest artist at the McKinley High Christmas Concert. What fun being conducted by the handsome and sexy Will! He and I bring the house down with our duet of “O Holy Night” (what a voice he has). But my personal favorite moment is singing and dancing with him to “The Christmas Waltz.” Of course, afterwards in private he’ll treat me to a glorious performance of “What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve?” Whatever you are, Mr. Schu.

The Merlotte’s Christmas Party/Fangtasia Holiday Bash. I just have to jet down to Bon Temps to hang out with the gang at Merlotte’s. Definitely will need to get Sam, Bill, and Jason all under the mistletoe. Wow, that would be something, wouldn’t it? And just as good would be hanging out with the vampires at Fangtasia. I’m sure Eric would be in a generous mood for the holiday. I’d be happy to sit at his feet waiting for a little nip, and I don’t mean eggnog.

Holiday Time in Alphabet City. As much as the storyline of “Rent” pulls no punches about the downside of life, I’d sure love some candlelight time with Roger and Mark in their cold New York apartment. We could sing carols (and my favorite songs from the show) while Roger played guitar. Mark could teach me how to play dreidel. Two guys for one girl? Heck, that’s la vie boheme, right?

A Christmas Drink with My Favorite Doctors. Speaking of two for one, I could take a side trip to New Jersey and swing by Princeton Plainsboro Hospital. Imagine martinis with Drs. House and Wilson...now that would be interesting. And by “interesting,” I mean, hard to decide which guy is sexier. And what could be more festive than watching House annoy Wilson while they each get progressively tipsier? I’d definitely volunteer to be designated driver in order to spend the night in that nice new condo of theirs.

Four Calling Nerds (yes, that’s a weak 12 Days of Christmas reference). Call out for Thai food and let’s play Rock-Paper-Scissors-Lizard-Spock under the tree! Yes, for some inexplicable reason I’d love to enjoy some holiday time with Sheldon, Leonard, Howard and Raj from “The Big Bang Theory.” Now that I know how to play with dreidels, Howard could explain the physics. Leonard could provide some nice music on his cello while rolling his eyes at Howard. Raj wouldn’t speak at all of course, but he’d look darn cute. And Sheldon could say anything at all and I’d love it. I’m sure he’d wear a Christmas sweater with a diagram about quasars on it.

Christmas with My Dear Vampire Conner. How could my holiday be complete without celebrating with the hero of How to Catch and Keep a Vampire? As those of you who have read the book know, Conner was alive, er, undead in the time of Shakespeare. Consequently he knows how to celebrate Christmas in the 15th Century way, complete with decorating the Holy Bough, singing Medieval carols accompanied by the lute, and doing those incredibly cool Renaissance dances like the pavane. He’ll make a fine blaze in the hearth, pour us some nice hot wassail, and tell me stories literally of Christmases long, long ago. It will be my pleasure to give him a little holiday draught, and then he’ll sing me to sleep by singing the Coventry Carol. Lovely.

Can You Really Find and Date a Vampire?

2009-11-23T18:26:00.006-06:00

I supposed I asked for it.

My book How to Catch and Keep a Vampire is starting to raise questions like this one, and I realized it would be handy to have a blog post that addressed it, so I’d have a spot to refer those inquiring along these lines. For example, a fan of the book recently asked me, “I want to meet a vampire, but I’m too shy to approach one, especially since they are so attractive...what can I do to get over my shyness?”

So let me start by saying, I have an aversion to being a buzzkill, especially when the “buzz” involves being imaginative. For example, let’s say you’re talking to fellow fans of a TV series. Let’s work with the example of “True Blood.” Everyone is going off about how much they’d love to date Bill, how cool it would be to talk to him about Civil War days, how dreamy his eyes are, etc. I’m not going to be the one to say, “Look guys, there is no Bill, and I doubt that Stephen Moyer knows anything special about the Civil War.” Au contraire, I’m going to be the one saying, “If Bill came to Milwaukee, I wonder where I’d take him on a first date.”

Recently at one of my book signing appearances, an obviously very intelligent and mature teen girl asked me, “Have you had imaginary friends?” I said (with total honesty), “Only like dozens! I have them right now, several of them.” And this girl proceeded to tell me about her imaginary friend with wonderful enthusiasm, very much as if he were real. Maybe someone not like me would have said to her, “Aren’t you a little old for this?” But think about it a minute: she said “imaginary friend.” It’s not like she’s deceiving herself that the guy is real, in a flesh-and-blood way. It’s just that she’s clever enough to take him just as seriously as her flesh-and-blood friends. And in my opinion, she should.

So, if you really must have me say it in black-and-white: No, I have not dated any real vampires. No, I am not in my book offering tips for finding real vampires and going out with them. But what fun is it to dwell on that?

The fact is, I (and millions of other people) have hung out with vampires in our imaginations. As well as with pirates, space aliens, satyrs, etc. Well, fewer with the satyrs I’m sure. Our inner, imaginative lives mean a lot to us. We’d like to understand them, know how to handle them, realize ways of making them more interesting and helpful. And that, if you must know, is why I wrote my book.

Now if you know anything about effective fantasizing, you know Rule #1 is to set aside reality. At the climax of the play, the villain is not going to turn to the audience, “breaking the fourth wall” as they say, and tell them “You do realize I’m not really going to kill the hero in this scene--we’re just acting.” Just as you get to the moment of the hot love scene in your bedtime fantasy, you do not tell yourself “I must keep in mind I’m not really Hugh Jackman’s girlfriend.”

On the contrary, effective pretending is enhanced by anything you can do to make it seem more real. Why do you think so many people get a charge out of seeing there’s a Web site for Oceanic Airlines? Or buying a four-pack of TruBlood from the HBO Store? Or following Dexter on Twitter? Of course you know you can’t buy tickets on an Oceanic flight to get to the Lost island. You know there’s soda, not synthetic blood, in those bottles. And you know some marketing person is posting as Dexter. But what fun is it to dwell on those facts?

This is why I hate to have to step out of my persona as Diana Laurence, friend of vampires, expert on dating the undead, and counselor to vampirophiles everywhere. This is why I don’t want to have to tell someone with a vampire dating question, “You do realize I’m not seriously talking about dating real vampires, right?”

I suppose in the interest of full disclosure and so I don’t get sued by someone, I have to go on record in this regard. But it’s not like I’m enjoying having to write this post.

The way I truly prefer to reply to the girl asking about her shyness problem is this: Don’t worry...the happy thing is that vampires, with their mind-control talents, can simply hypnotize you into not being so shy. Just walk up to the vampire in question, showing off the red satin ribbon on your wrist, and he’ll be happy to solve the problem for you.

That’s my “story,” and I’m sticking to it. Get it? Good.

Reflections on My Whirlwind Book Launch

2009-11-12T12:12:00.006-06:00

As I occasionally mention, I don’t usually write too much about the doings in my little world on this blog. But a couple people have suggested that readers might actually find it interesting to hear what its like when you experience the success of publishing a book in wide release. So, I thought it might be fun to reflect upon what has happened to me in that regard.

Fun? Yes. Exhausting? Yes! Satisfying? Well, considering I’ve been working towards this goal since I was in grade school, definitely yes.

As a little kid I’m sure I thought there could be nothing so thrilling as publishing a book. But, blame it on human nature, there’s a negative side to everything. I want to save the good stuff till later, so let’s get that out of the way.

The negative side to my experience can pretty much be blamed totally upon myself and my own attitude. Much to my amazement, I found that when I saw my book on the shelf of my neighborhood Border’s store, my prevailing emotion was, “No one will ever find it! Why can’t it be in a big display?”

[By the way, if you are confused about the back story--like why it is that although I had eleven books in print already, this book was such a big deal--you can read the story of my publishing house here.]

Ironically, I remember quite clearly countless other occasions in bookstores when I looked wistfully at the books on the shelves and sighed, “If only my books were in stores everywhere, instead of just for sale on the Web! Will it ever happen?” Wait, let’s back up a couple more steps: There was a time, just a few years ago, when I was blown away seeing my book covers on Amazon, and a time, a decade ago, when I was thrilled just to hold a printed book with my name on it in my hand.

Ah, humans...we are our own worst enemies, are we not?

And this was a lot of my problem during this experience. Whatever I achieved, it always seemed that my brain set the bar of “true success” as higher. My book is the #5 vampire humor book sold by Borders; I wanted it at #1, or better still, somewhere on the New York Times Bestsellers List. To date, reviews are running 35 to 3 as enthusiastically favorable, but those three bad ones made me think--against all reason--that I had failed a little. I got to appear on local radio; but TV wasn’t interested, and my shot at being on CBS didn’t pan out.

One thing authors really need to do to judge their success reasonably is to set aside the completely preposterous picture so many people have of the opportunities in publishing. Even I, who have been freelancing for decades, forget to be realistic.

Sure, some authors become true celebrities, but even the most famous are not like celebrities in other fields. Neil Gaiman is a rock star in the writing field, but 75% of the time I bring him up to someone, they haven’t heard of him. Literally hundreds of thousands of books get published each year--and that many people simply can’t become famous. Did you know that selling over 5,000 copies of a book is consider decent? Did you know you can sell fewer than 100,000 copies of a book and it could be on the NYT Bestsellers List? Doesn’t seem like much, and having 100,000 people know you does not make you much of a celebrity, in the grand scheme of things.

When I signed my book contract, a lot of people said, “Now you’re going to quit your day job and write full time, right?” Well, I’ll put it to you this way: That super successful author who sold 100,000 copies of his book got substantially less money for it than my day job salary pays me. It would be a fairly comfortable living...but only if you knew for sure you could repeat it once a year, every year!

So I guess I’m not completely to blame for feeling unsuccessful. My friends’ idea of success was that I had it made and now could be a full time author, and that didn’t happen. The thing is, it’s pretty rare that even successful, multi-published authors can live on their royalties alone...at least not in any fashion we spoiled Americans call living well! LOL

But now I come to a good transition point. Let’s talk about the upside of all this, and I will say now that if a person has a good job and the royalties are just bonus, then YES, the money is indeed a wonderful thing! Not only as money, but also as validation. Writers, even successful ones, spend a lot of hours in their lives writing for absolutely nothing. To receive the remuneration your talent and hard work merit is a wonderful thing.

And while this experience is not going to make “Diana Laurence” a household name, nor even make my other eleven paperbacks sell ten times more than before, it is still wonderful to have bathed a little in limelight. My publisher is very successful and has been for years; to be the top-selling author in their history, which it seems I will be, is definitely something to be grateful about.

So, that’s the deal regarding fame and fortune, the two things by which so many of us measure success. But in fact, the best things about this experience are in other categories. So let me share with you the things that brought me the most joy.

1. There were certainly many moments of excitement, possibilities that even though they didn’t pan out (so far) were great fun to contemplate. In this category: talk of pitching the book to Hollywood, the possibility of being on the CBS Morning Show, and the chance of having Charlaine Harris read the book and provide a quote. Fortunately I recognized these were all long shots, so I was more pleased that they were serious possibilities at all than disappointed that they didn’t happen.

2. Other things happened that truly were fantastically cool. Getting in Glamour magazine next to Charlaine Harris was awfully thrilling. There were other examples of when big media treated the book like something famous, like Publishers Weekly and Sugarscape.com. (And here’s a tip for you: “being treated like something famous” is actually what fame is, usually!)

3. Those 35 good reviews did not suck. Even though I tend to give negative reviews way too much weight, I really ought to recognize that appealing to over 90% of reviewers and averaging 4 stars out of 5 cannot be considered failure. Without doubt, some of the greatest moments of this experience were when one reader or another really grasped what I was trying to do with the book, or reacted with joy or laughter or enlightenment. Seriously, that’s pretty much the best thing about being an author.

4. While no one started up a fan site like the Twilight fans so often do, on a smaller scale a lot of people were lovely enough to treat me like a rock star. Most gratifying was the support and response of my Facebook friends, most of whom friended me because of this book or my other writing, and have never met me face to face. Without doubt my friend/fan CC Rogers made me blissfully happy by doing gorgeous portraits of all the vampires in the book, as well as making me a charm bracelet from them. So many people were genuinely thrilled by my good fortune, it was amazing.

5. It was so fun seeing word of my book spread to various corners of the world (real and virtual). I found that a random person had tweeted “The author’s a Maven, a great read!” Wow, how did that happen? My publisher reported crazy sales to countries like Trinidad and Tobago, and Lebanon. The book appeared on retailers lists, like Chapters/Indigo’s Top Five Vampire, Werewolf and Zombie Guides. Who picked it? Huh! I saw (via WorldCat) countless copies appearing in libraries all over the U.S....and being reserved! Crazy. Most incredible of all was walking into a random tiny bookstore in a small town and actually finding copies on the shelf. Man, was it everywhere?

6. I am addicted to “True Blood,” and it was so amazing encountering mutual fans who loved my book, via reviews and interviews on TrueBloodNet and TrueBlood-Online. Just being associated with something so successful was very cool.

7. It was a blast sharing my experiences with my family and [non-Web-only] friends. Doing my author appearance presentation for a crew of them at a bookstore was incredibly fun. And what could top going with my 83-year-old dad to a couple bookstores where I would be speaking, and having him see the book displays and posters of his daughter? Everyone was so happy for me and so encouraging, I’ll never forget it. My own husband made me feel so important, too! And he certainly was a true Personal Assistant that I couldn’t have done without.

8. While my bookstore appearances were not overrun with people (truth be told, book signings seldom are), I loved being in the environment of those lovely stores and meeting the people who work at them. Without exception my hosts were kind and informative and really loved everything I did. My radio appearance also went really well and my host was charming and urged me to do it again soon. My appearance on a trolley for Halloween was a huge success; the people aboard laughed at every tiny thing I said--and that’s always a great time, for sure! I did not feel like a star doing any of these things, but I definitely enjoyed the positive, delighted response of all who heard or saw me. And that rocked!

9. And possibly best of all, I met all kinds of wonderful people. The people I worked with at my publisher acted like true friends throughout the process. The new fans I made online have been amazing. And I met one fabulous family of four women (three generations) who loved my presentation and the book so much, I need never make another fan and my work will have been worthwhile! I know some of these new relationships will last a lifetime, all because of this book.

10. And yes, it is patently awesome to publish a book. When I got my first [four-figure] advance check, it seemed like a miracle. When I heard (and saw the photo) that my book was on a display table at the Madison Square Garden Borders, I thought I was dreaming. When I saw myself on a huge poster (in full color! LOL) at Books-a-Million in downtown Chicago, I could barely believe it. And when I learned my book will be in Target stores soon and will be a Recommended Read in January, I thought, “This is not happening!” (I still don’t think I’ll believe it till I see it!)

So to wrap up this huge tome, I am not nor ever will be famous or rich. My book will not be touted by Oprah, or make any bestseller lists. I won’t be doing a cameo on “True Blood.” My book will not be made into a movie and there will not be action figures of my vampire friends (which is a shame, hey?). In fact, in two or three years my book will probably pretty much be forgotten, except by the people that it really touched in a significant way.

But really, those people are the reason I do this. And the best thing about this book deal was how many more of them there will be now than before.

Bloodchained II: The Secret of Secrets

2009-10-25T08:21:00.010-05:00

Boy, am I happy to report the long-awaited release of the sequel to Bloodchained! I felt bad every time I saw someone googling "when will the sequel to Bloodchained be released?" Well, wait no more: It's available now from Amazon, Barnes & Noble online, and Living Beyond Reality Press...or simply ask your local store to order a copy for you. eBook versions also available...Kindle coming soon.

I'd love to tell you what happens in Bloodchained II, but there are people who read this blog who (mystifyingly! LOL) have not yet read the first novel, and I don't want to give away who lives, dies, is a good guy or a bad guy, etc. in Bloodchained. But if you like vampire romance, or suspense, or historicals (especially about the Renaissance), these could be books for you.

Fans of Bloodchained, you'll be reunited with your old friends from Audica, as well as meet some new, mysterious and alluring Roicans. There's plenty of the same suspense and surprises that you loved in the original novel. And it all ends up in a very interesting place.

For more information and buy links, please visit my Web site's Bloodchained II page or the official site, www.bloodchained.com.

And on a more personal note: This is my fifth book to come out in 2009 and I am ready to take it a little easier! (As if that were possible with all this How to Catch and Keep a Vampire stuff going on! LOL)

Pinch Me I’m Dreaming

2009-10-23T08:40:00.006-05:00

Things happen to me that I find very exciting, but ain’t necessarily so for you readers. That’s why I don’t really like to inundate you with every detail of the successes of my writing career.

But in this case, screw that, I just have to crow! LOL You see, what’s happening in my life right now is--and in no way am I kidding--the pinnacle. So please indulge me while I share a little update about my book How to Catch and Keep a Vampire on this, its official release day.

Some of the publications that have featured the book so far are Publisher's Weekly, Glamour, ForeWord, Ingrams Advance, Gifts and Decorative Accessories, and Greetings, as well as dozens of Web sites and blogs such as www.sugarscape.com (largest publication for teens in the UK), www.trueblood-online.com, and www.mediaite.com.

I’ve been doing interviews for a number of blogs, and this Sunday an interview I did with the Anniston (Alabama) Star will be appearing in their print and online editions. I live in Wisconsin...so that’s pretty interesting! I have five bookstore appearances in the next couple weeks, and will also be doing local Milwaukee radio on Monday.

Reviews are pouring in nearly every day now, and they have all been good to glowing. HTCAKAV was chosen #3 favorite vampire book by www.internetreviewofbooks.com, made the Chapters/Indigo top five vampire guidebooks list, and is an Ingrams featured title.

I got the biggest news of all this week when my publisher told me not only was my book going to be sold in Target stores, it was selected to be a preferred read for January 2010.

And the capper: they will be doing a second printing. The 50,000-copy first run is tapped out! May I remind you, all this before the official release date!

Do you see now why I need to be pinched?

Last weekend I took a little vacation Wisconsin Dells, a resort town in the middle of the state. We were shopping on the main drag and I made a joke about finding my book in a local shop. We came upon a little bookstore in the next block, I went in, and sure enough, there were five copies on display in the Romance section. It’s incredible enough to find one’s book in Barnes and Borders, but in a tiny Book World in the Dells? Well, my publisher tells me they’ve sold copies to Australia, Lebanon, and Trinidad and Tobago, so I guess I need to get used to this!

Oh and meanwhile, my own publishing house this week released my 12th paperback title, Bloodchained II: The Secret of Secrets. I’m starting to see stores stocking my backlist titles, so it seems this vampire book may be bringing my older works to a brand new audience.

That would really be a dream come true!

79 Crushes?

2009-09-30T19:27:00.002-05:00

Actually, I’m sure I’ve had more than 79 crushes in my lifetime. I just noticed that according to this blog’s labels, I’ve had 79 posts about crushes of mine. The true number may be more like 279, and I’m not ashamed of it. If you’re in three-digits of crushes and counting, you shouldn’t be either.

This week’s episode of the CBS comedy “How I Met Your Mother” really cracked me up. When asked by Barney if he fantasized about other women, Marshall said he couldn’t unless he first fantasized that his wife Lily had died. This daydream involved Lily’s contracting a long term case of fatal hiccups, and only giving up the ghost after a long struggle, attempts at miracle cures, and fundraisers. Then after “an appropriate amount of time,” Marshall finished grieving and granted Lily’s dying wish, moving on with his life to fondle a busty delivery girl. In other words, the justification portion of the fantasy was a good 20 times longer than the sex.

I’m with Lily; better Marshall should have let her live and just fooled around.

I am a huge fan of marital fidelity (having been a victim of marital infidelity), but when it comes to one’s interior life, I say, go nuts. No one ever did his/her spousal faithfulness a favor by squelching the sex fantasies (just ask your favorite fallen televangelist). Meanwhile, a [few] dozen fun little crushes will be a lot easier on your psyche than the one that grips you for years.

So, I’ve told you about a lot of my crushes on these pages, but for fun let’s just cover a few more I’ve not mentioned before. Today I’ll run down a few select choices from my junior high/high school years:

Beatle Boots. This guy wore pointy boots with those sorts of heels like the Beatles wore in their early years. No one else in the school was that self-confident. Well, the rest of him gave him plenty reason to be, but the boots were what put him over the top.

My Math Teacher. I developed a crush on him for two reasons: (1) He was especially nice to me. (2) I was halfway through high school and had never crushed on a teacher, and felt I was really missing out. It always happens in the movies.

My Creative Writing Teacher. A year later, and not so much in my control as the math teacher. She was a woman. I didn’t dream about sex with her or anything, I just wanted to be her, and for her to really, really like me. To the point that it hurt enough I knew it was a crush.

Half the Varsity Basketball Team. They were really cute, they were really good, they were so tall. Except the one short one, who by virtue of that was unique and special and even more awesome because he had to work so much harder. Oh, and this was the 70s, so their uniform shorts were really short. Those were the days.

My Cousin. And boy, this is one of those moments you hope your relatives don’t read your blog. I saw my cousin every five years or so, but now we were both into adolescence. We listened to music and he pretended to conduct it, which struck me as funky and very sexy. He had very nice brown eyes. The fact that the attraction was illegal made it all the more tragic and enjoyable.

The Kid I Babysat. Speaking of inappropriateness, I sat for three neighbor kids, and this boy was maybe three years younger than me and really too old to be babysat. We all got in a tickle fight. I went home with my 50 cents an hour feeling quite strangely giddy.

The French Exchange Student: He had a quirky, foreign-looking smile, looked great in a Speedo, and was, well, French. Usually simply being French is enough, you know?

The Guy at Lunch: He always leaned up against the same wall and I caught him looking at me more than once. That was sufficient to classify him as Mysteriously Inscrutible. I’m a sucker for inscrutability anytime.

Smile, Hair and Voice. When you’re an adolescent girl, a cute smile, a head of tousled curly hair, and one of the best tenor voices in the choir is enough. Actually, way more than enough. He played an old guy in the school operetta and still looked a luscious seventeen, if a bit distinguished.

Smile, Brains, and Sense of Humor. Or, those. They work too. He could be an intellectual or a goofball. I liked him so well I asked him out 18 years later after my divorce. I think I scared the crap out of him; or maybe he’d just lost the sense of humor.

Cool Name. This guy in my Physics class was named Roland. He was pretty cute, too, but Roland. Isn’t that excellent?

Are you starting to think it doesn’t take much? You mean cool name wasn’t enough for you? Or boots?

Hey, I was going to end up writing a bizillion stories about love and sex, I had to gather material.

And the Crushes label count is now 80.

Spot the Book, Maybe Win a $100 Amazon Certificate!

2009-09-19T11:01:00.007-05:00

This week not only did I find my book on the shelf of our neighborhood Borders, one of my pals at Sellers Publishing spotted it on this display table in the front of the Borders store at Madison Square Garden. Blows my mind! And right next to FU, Penguin, too! (I love that blog.)

So, if you live in the U.S., odds are the book is in your nearby Borders, and will be at your local Barnes & Noble soon. Canadian readers, it's on its way to Chapters. Heck, I've been told it's going to be at stores all over the world in the next four to six weeks.

Well, I’m just so darn happy, I had to throw a contest. Enter and you could win a $100 Amazon gift certificate or a personalized autographed book! It’s easy and fun to enter: all you have to do is spot the book in your local store and email me a photo. And I'll enter you twice if you're the first entrant from your state or (for non-U.S.) country. For complete contest details, visit the contest page on my Web site HERE.

I can't wait to see what you find on your local shelves and display tables! Good luck!

Twilight vs. True Blood

2009-09-15T18:53:00.004-05:00

Everywhere I travel on the Interwebs these days, I encounter articles, posts and comments with themes similar to the following:

Twilight is too silly
"True Blood" is too smutty
Edward is a sissy, please bring back Nosferatu
Forget vampires, I dig werewolves
Forget vampires, I dig zombies
Vampires are better than anyone so shut up
Bella should shut up
Sookie is annoying
Team Edward vs. Team Jacob vs. Team Bill vs. Team Eric in all possible combinations

Some of this bashing is humorous and for fun, and then I can get a laugh out of it. But a lot of it is amazingly mean-spirited. I am sometimes tempted to put on a “make love not war” button. I know it’s human nature to say “my favorite vampire show/vampire hero/vampire-loving heroine is better than yours,” but everyone please chill! Whatever happened to “all kinds make a world?”

First of all, it seems kind of silly to me to do literary analysis of either Twilight or the Sookie Stackhouse books. Everyone on both sides needs to realize that none of these books can possibly be “worthless,” considering legions of readers love them. They were written to entertain, and just because they don’t entertain you, doesn’t mean they have no value.

I realize that sometimes it’s hard to get your mind around just how different people are from each other. I’m stunned by it every time I encounter it. But taste is an individual and varied thing. Just this week a fan told me her favorite story in my latest collection, Soulful Sex: The Darker Side, was the very one I happened to like the least. This has happened before, I assure you.

Truly, there’s probably no aspect of life where people differ as much as they do about sex. Not only do people have varied and disparate erotic preferences, oftentimes what one person likes is boring, unpleasant, or even disgusting to another. Consequently, when we argue about matters with erotic content—and you must recognize that the “Twilight vs. True Blood” debate is one such—opinions can certainly clash violently. That’s why it’s imperative to recognize this is a matter of taste, not esoteric absolutes.

I think about Stephenie Meyer’s first imaginings of Edward, so many years back. She had to have thought the concept of vampires avoiding the sun because it revealed their otherworldly appearance was original and interesting. I’m sure that writing about it was delightful. It is, in fact, a clever idea and one that has a certain charm.

No doubt Stephenie, had she thought about it, would have figured not everyone would go for this interpretation of the undead. But no writer can possibly aspire to please everyone, so that would have done little to dissuade her from writing about it. I’m sure she never guessed that one day it would become in vogue to bash the idea of “sparkly vampires” with as much virulence as you see on the Web. Of course, at the same time, there are plenty of people who think the concept is fabulously romantic.

Writers write for the people who will enjoy their work, not those who won’t. Think about it: what else can you do?

Our society has come a long way in learning to live and let live in the sexual arena. Most people recognize the diversity of erotic taste, just as they recognize that different people have different favorite colors, food, music, etc. There are a few absolutes, certainly (pedophilia, for example, is absolutely wrong), but much of the time we’re talking about just opinion. Blonds with beards get Joan excited, while Asians are a turn-on to Jean.

And therefore I’m suggesting, once you see that a million or two people (1) adore Twilight, (2) live for "True Blood," (3) think Edward is hot, (4) are crazy for Bill, etc., that should tell you none of these are worthy of condemnation. We all have our preferences, and you probably want to respect the preferences of others.

I think it’s fun to talk about favorites—I have ever since we passed around slam books in school (how’s that for an ancient term?). Mine (currently at least) are "True Blood," Eric, and vampires. That said, there’s a certain plotline in Breaking Dawn that I thought was brilliant; some days I really adore Bill; and Jacob and Sam have showed me that shapeshifters have their charm.

But what I really love is that there is so much out there for paranormal romance lovers of all stripes. So let’s celebrate the excellent variety of the smorgasbord! It’s so much better for the digestion.

Talkin' 'bout Vampires on Video

2009-09-06T20:56:00.003-05:00

I have a little treat for those of you in any of the following categories:

1) You've always wondered what I look/sound like.

2) You're desperate to get tips on vampire dating.

3) You want to know more about my new book How to Catch and Keep a Vampire.

4) You really need to blow three and a half minutes on another funny online video that is at least as entertaining as Keyboard Cat.

If any of these define the person you are at this very moment in human history, you will not want to delay watching me in the new video below...

Don't say you weren't warned.

(Oh, and by the way, the book is starting to appear in stores, is in stock at Barnes & Noble online, and available at Amazon...coming soon to stores worldwide, everywhere by October 23.)

Ten Sexiest Stars of Classic Broadway (IMHO)

2009-08-29T11:39:00.019-05:00

Yes, I'm obsessed with Broadway. And why not? Guys singing, guys dancing, guys in great costumes (and yes, many of them are gay but they're still hot, for heaven's sake), romance in abundance, and plenty of sexiness.

I've been obsessed with Broadway since I was a tiny child, as my list below will attest. Alas, I also live in the Midwest. So I'm far from an expert on the current stars trodding the boards in NYC. Still, I can recognize all kinds of classic and unforgettable performances over the years. So, for what it's worth, here are my top ten guys who rocked the stage (and sometimes screen) with their hotness:

Yul Brynner, the King of Siam, "The King and I" (1951) (see also this post) - Exotic, beautiful, funny, fierce and vulnerable...wow. Oh, and also shirtless throughout the whole show.

Robert Preston, Harold Hill, "The Music Man" (1957) - The original charming shyster of Broadway. Prof. Hill, I never heard those bells, till there was you.

Gerome Ragni and James Rado, Berger and Claude, "Hair" (1967) (see also this post) - The originators both of the show and the starring roles, they served as inspiration as I passed through puberty. I slightly preferred Claude.

Victor Garber, Jesus, "Godspell" (1971) (see also this post) - Is it wrong to think of Jesus as hot? Well, he wasn't actually sexy, just sweet and funny and brave and lovable. I'm still not over my crush on Victor, it's been a doozy all these decades.

Richard O'Brien, Riff Raff, "The Rocky Horror [Picture] Show" (1973) (see also this post) - To say he's not classically handsome is to state the obvious...but the show's creator and eccentric star was undeniably sexy in this role. It's downright scary how sexy...

Kevin Kline, The Pirate King, "The Pirates of Penzance" (1980) - Sure, he's goofy, but you can't resist him in that "alarming but effective costume." He can swash my buckle anytime.

Michael Crawford, The Phantom, "The Phantom of the Opera" (1986) - Appropriately, I fell under the spell of his voice without needing to see his face.

Anthony Rapp, Mark, "Rent" (1996) - Can't really put my finger on why I'm so attracted to Mark (my daughters saw the show on Broadway and were sure I'd go for Rodger). He's just damn cute.

Hugh Jackman, Curly, "Oklahoma" (London Revival) (1999) (see also this post) - If you like Hugh, then you should rent.this.now. He's absolutely breathtaking.

Jason Danieley, Lieutenant Joseph Cable, "South Pacific" (Concert Version) (2006) (see also this post) - I'm cheating a little here, having not actually seen Jason perform this role or any other, but his version of "Younger Than Springtime" is absolutely heavenly.

That's a pretty eclectic group, hey? I know I left out scads of other worthy candidates. Please share your favorites of yore or today in the comments....

Is Defanging Really So Terrible?

2009-08-18T19:53:00.010-05:00

This morning my publisher alerted me to a recent article on Slate.com by Grady Hendrix, entitled "Vampires Suck; Actually, they don't. And that's the problem." Grady has a real problem with what I call the defangitization of vampires. He's a lot like Dr. Steven Grey (pictured), a vampire featured prominently in my upcoming book, How to Catch and Keep a Vampire, and author of the essay "The Hideous Domestication of Vampires." The two share an intolerance for anything but the old-fashioned Nosferatu kind of undead.

Their complaint seems to be resounding louder lately. The more popular vampires become with the general populace, the more they are being reinvented according to individual interpretations. Whereas once (Grady would say, pre-Buffy) anyone telling a vampire story tried to stay consistent with Bram Stoker, nowadays it's a bloodsucking, or even nonbloodsucking, free-for-all. And it's the nonbloodsucking that has folks like Grady brandishing pitchforks.

I'm sure you must be dying (or undying, if you're a creature of the night) to know what I have to say on this point. Right. Well, I took it upon myself to respond to Grady in his comments section, and in the interests of laziness, will reprint here for you what I said:

It seems to me there are two types of vampire fans: (1) people who want to keep strict adherance to the "classic" archetype, and (2) people who want to adapt the vampire fit their preferences, even if those characteristics are far afield from the old legends.

I'd like to assure Grady that the original, "monstrous" vampire archetype will always be with us. Meanwhile, I have no problem with creative adaptation. The immutable essence of the archetype, no matter what spin you put on it, is that it is the Shadow, refering to the term used by psychoanalytic theorist Carl Jung.

Whether he kills or not, drinks blood or not, hates mortals or not, the vampire archetype always represents some sort of dark aspect of human nature that society shuns and hides--all the while obsessing over it. Whether that shadowy, guilty obsession is sex, violence, danger, evil, etc., the vampire serves as the perfect seductive personification.

Bill Compton is not a killer but he represents the socially unacceptable and morally compromised. Edward Cullen is not a sexual threat but he still personifies danger, unpredictablity, and uncontrollable desire. These and other "new style" vampires may be too angelic for Grady's taste, but they are always devilish to some degree.

People of all cultures, ages and interests are reinventing vampires in new ways, always to work out their own dark urges and express in the fantasy realm what is not possible in reality. So let them! I'm sure Bram Stoker's Dracula won't mind.

So there you have it: I do appreciate those people who don't want to see the old-style vampires "die out." But you see, an archetype that powerful is not going to be killed off by any mere popular trend. At the same time, there's never anything wrong with being creative and innovative about your character development and storytelling. There's room for Bill-lovers, Eric-lovers, Edward-lovers and Dracula-lovers.

I say, variety is the spice of undeath.

Possession

2009-08-06T19:12:00.004-05:00

I’m a fan of “True Blood” on Facebook, and yesterday the fan page put up a notice of new tee shirts that say “Sookie is mine.” For those of you who don’t watch the show, the reference is to vampire Bill Compton’s statement concerning his mortal love, Sookie. This declaration is more than simple romance: it guarantees Sookie’s safety in the face of the covetousness of other vampires. Possession is just that big a deal in vampire world.

Well, this posting set off a slew of comments, needless to say. And not a one was negative. Not a single “isn’t this chauvinistic?” remark. On the contrary, everyone was wishing they were Bill’s, or Sookie was theirs, or they were Eric’s or Sam’s or Jason’s, etc.

It would seem that possessiveness, in spite of all society’s politically correct efforts to the contrary, remains sexy.

I’ve touched upon this topic before, in my 3/9/08 post about “Lost’s” Benjamin Linus. His fierce proclamation regarding Juliet —“You’re mine”—is still haunting the dreams of infatuated fans everywhere. To those who find Ben attractive, this greedy, covetous, jealous statement is just about the hottest thing he’s ever said.

Possessiveness, in practice, is not the most desirable trait in a mate. In its most dysfunctional form, it has driven psychopaths to kill. More typically, it causes strife in relationships and makes money for marriage counselors. But in fantasy, fiction, and shows like “True Blood” and “Lost,” it’s all kinds of sexy and romantic.

This is another one of those throwbacks to our more primitive days. When females depended upon males for protection, food and shelter, it was a boon to have your man ferociously possessive of you. You didn’t want him to take it lightly that a competitor or enemy might steal into your camp or castle at night and abscond with you. Men were (and in many ways still are) hardwired to look upon women as prizes to be won in competition with others, and the words “she’s mine” meant victory. Women were flattered to be considered the object of such competition, to be favored enough to be a “prize.” The words “you’re mine” meant a man had found her worthy of fighting for, perhaps to the death.

As obsolete as such concepts are today, we can’t completely put off those primitive feelings. The resulting phenomenon is that a female’s emotions are stirred by the storylines of “True Blood” and “Lost.” We love the concept of a vampire so desperately in love with a mortal woman that he forbids any other to dream of possessing her, and puts his fury behind the words. We even experience a sexual thrill when a diabolical villain declares his possession of a woman who shuns him, knowing it is a demonstration of his desperate desire for her.

I have lately been making my way through the Twilight books, and I must confess there is a recurring problem for me. It’s Bella’s aversion to marrying Edward. I understand her feeling some shame for marrying so young, but I know in her position I would give more weight to my delight at having such a fellow want to bind himself to me. I wondered if perhaps the teens of today are the first generation to not feel such traditional emotions on the subject.

I admit I’m incorrigibly old-fashioned, but I fall back on those things that thrilled young girls in the 60s and 70s: getting “pinned” or having your boyfriend give you his class ring…carving your initials together in a desk…getting an engagement ring. I wondered sadly whether it was becoming passé to feel you belonged to someone, and they belonged to you. Should candy manufacturers stop making those hearts that say “Be Mine”?

Well, the comments about that “True Blood” tee shirt were very heartening to me. The old instincts, apparently, are not dead.

I’m not alone in wishing I could hear Bill or Eric growl “[your name here] is mine.”

Battle of the Sexes

2009-07-31T11:26:00.003-05:00

I’m bound to get someone’s ire up with this post, I’m sure.

First off, let me say the following: (1) I believe men and women are different, but neither is superior. (2) I realize you can’t generalize about all members of a gender, but I think certain gender tendencies are well established. (3) My “gay-dar” isn’t perfect but close to it (probably comes of being married to a gay man for 15 years when I was younger).

Okay, so let’s get to it. Davie and I recently watched the second episode of this year’s “HGTV Design Star” competition. The challenge in this ep involved the ten contestants divvying up into two teams, and each team redoing a kitchen. Teams were picked “playground style,” and ended up with Team Amy (consisting of four women and one guy, Dan, who is probably gay) and Team Nathan (consisting of three men—one of whom, Antonio, is definitely not gay—and two women). You can see Team Nathan (left) and Team Amy in the photo.

Both teams had some good (and bad) design skills going for them. Both teams had a guy (Dan and Antonio) they had to rely upon for carpentry. So it became clear quite quickly that the winner was going to be determined mostly by project management skills.

Team Amy was led by a female and had a preponderance of females. Team Nathan was led by a male and had a preponderance of males. What a fun social experiment. Now I don’t feel that “project management skills” are gender-linked in any way. But given the right conditions, “focus” can be.

Team Amy fell prey to having an unfocussed leader. More than once, Amy’s emotions collapsed under the time pressure. Another member of the team was too scatterbrained to accomplish her share of the work. There was no cohesion. As the project unfolded, it was Dan who took over leadership. He tried to keep people on task, and also served as a steadying influence. In fact, at one point I had to cry, “These people need more testosterone!” And Dan, regardless of sexual orientation, definitely had that. Sigh…there’s nothing that irks feminists more than the sight of a man having to comfort his female “superior” when she dissolves into tears.

Team Nathan didn’t have much better of a leader, sadly. Nathan didn’t have much in the way of organizational skills either. However, without some of the emotional distractions occurring for Team Amy, the largely male team did stay on task and conduct their project more logically. And speaking of testosterone, it was the very heterosexual and aggressive Antonio who ended up taking charge and keeping the team in line.

So in the end, Team Nathan completed the kitchen re-do, largely successfully. (It needs to be mentioned that the room’s best feature, a faux hammered metal backsplash, was the brainchild of one of the women.) Meanwhile, when time ran out, Team Amy had left countless tasks incomplete, hadn’t had time to clean up, and didn’t have a chance to put out any accessories. Yikes.

Is it really fair to credit this failure to estrogen and the female nature? Not completely. I’d be the first to say that the average woman is just as capable as the average man of bringing a challenge to a successful conclusion.

However, in this particular case, I truly believe we saw the feminine nature proving to be a disadvantage. The price women pay for their well-developed emotions and their sensitivity to the world around them is this: sometimes we find it too hard to turn that off, ignore the pressure and emotional conflict, and power through to closure. Meanwhile, the same tendencies that can make men insensitive oafs oblivious to what’s happening around them, can be a real boon when closure is the goal.

None of this demonstrates to me that men are better than women. What it shows me is that the success of our species depends on the participation of both genders in reaching goals. Together we not only bring different skill sets, but sometimes completely opposite ones that complement each other perfectly. Team Nathan didn’t win this round of Design Star because it had more men; it won because team members of both genders brought a better balance of aptitudes to the task.

At Your Service

2009-07-16T20:14:00.003-05:00

On innumerable occasions I have blogged about the sex appeal of aggressive, alpha-male type guys. Well, today it’s time to look at the flip side.

The other day Davie and I were watching “The Next Food Network Star,” and I was suddenly reminded of a totally different style of guy that really sends me. Calling this particular archetype “the servant” doesn’t completely do him justice, since that implies a slavish subordinate. I’m talking about a man who dedicates himself to serving you out of his own free will. He’s chosen the role because he enjoys it.

My favorite contestant on the show is Jeffrey Saad, a handsome 42-year-old currently working in real estate. Don’t be misled: Jeffrey’s prior history includes culinary school and many years of operating restaurants. In the episode of which I speak, the remaining five competitors teamed up to cater a Miami cocktail party. Jeffrey served as host, and his background as a restaurateur was apparent.

Welcoming the guests, Jeffrey was warm, gracious, welcoming and cheerful. He said something in Spanish that I, who only know English and French, could not translate beyond it including some sort of expression of being “at your service.” Whatever he said, it was hot. And for much of the rest of the evening, Jeffrey bustled around the party, proffering trays of food, tending to guests’ needs, and adjuring everyone that he would “take care of them.”

I should tell you that Jeffrey is no poser. He’s a very sincere, guileless fellow, kind-hearted and slow to anger. That lovely smile of his is not faked. And I could see he truly enjoyed playing the role of “servant,” not because he’s into the subservient role, but because he knows he does it well. He pleases people. I’m sure that has to feel good.

All I know for sure is, it would feel very good to have this man wait on you.

The episode put me in mind of a dinner party I attended many years ago with some co-workers. It was a potluck, with a dozen or so of us gathered at the home of the boss’s secretary. Our financial analyst, Mark, had been a waiter in college. So for the occasion he reprised that old role, pulling out chairs to seat us, bringing dishes around, refreshing drinks. Mark was a good-looking guy, but he never looked so appealing to me as on that evening, with his suddenly straight posture, and one hand tucked behind at the small of his back.

I’m sure all you readers of both genders have had the experience of being waited upon by a truly talented service person. That kind of attention can be quite an aphrodisiac. My theory on that is, the manner of a expert waitperson somewhat mimics courtship. The attention convinces you that this individual sees you as important. The kindnesses of bringing food and drink seem like gifts of affection. The fervent expression of a desire to please is, well, mildly sexual.

Of course you know the serviceperson is simply doing a job. But if they truly seem to enjoy that job, it’s hard not to get caught up in the lovely little charade. The result of this is genuine pleasure on one side, and, if nothing else, a generous tip on the other.

Just watching Jeffrey wait on other people was thrill enough to me. I think if he did it to me in person I might positively swoon. Nothing says lovin’ like a guy who smiles at you over a tray of canapés.

When Slaughter is Sexy

2009-07-13T20:45:00.003-05:00

Those of you who have watched Showtime’s series “Dexter” will recognize this little verbal portrait (if not the photo below). But I ask you to read this next paragraph, and consider: what about such a guy is sexy?

Here we have a serial killer, fascinated since childhood with blood, vivisection, and murder. He is emotionless and can only mimic the human behaviors that are normally prompted by feelings. He is asexual, and unable to muster any kind of desire or arousal without, shall we say, serious stimulation. However, killing—and even sometimes the act of killing committed by another—produces excitement, joy, and even lust in his otherwise cold heart.

That’s Dexter in a nutshell. Of course to be fair, there are a few other things about him to be considered. He learned from his father an ethical code that he strictly obeys: to kill only those whose crimes are so horrific that they are more of a threat to the public that Dexter himself. He truly wants to be human, and is conscientious in his efforts to behave like a kindhearted fellow. While incapable of feeling “protective” of his girlfriend, he certainly has an intellectual commitment to watch out for her well-being. And yes, he’s got a fine sense of humor.

Still, a serial killer is a serial killer. Dexter is a very creepy fellow, with his needles and knives and careful attention to using protective plastic sheets.

All that said, this particular homicidal psychopath is undeniably sexy. It helps that Michael C. Hall, who plays Dexter, is sensuously handsome and has a melodic, warm voice. But I maintain it is the concept of this character that hold the true charm. It’s really quite brilliant.

It’s a fact that many women have a strange interest in the Jeffrey Dahmers and Ted Bundys of the world. Twisted though that seems, it is due to the fact that serial killers possess a few key traits—warped, I’ll grant you—that appeal to basic feminine nature.

They are powerful, literally wielding the power of life and death.
They are predatory, the ultimate in aggressive (the supreme alpha male if you will).
They are brilliant and extremely skilled at what they do.

Certainly these things are true of Dexter in spades. And the writers of the show have cleverly worked out his personality so that women will be even more drawn to him. He is harmless to you and me. He’s not evil—or at least has his evil side under control. He’s not motivated by sex and is not a sexual threat. He feels nothing, so somehow doesn’t seem as culpable for what he does.

And he’s charming, funny, gentle mannered, and as a sort of Robin Hood of Homicide, actually a hero.

With all that going on, a lot of us ladies are happy to overlook the downside of Dexter’s personality and habits. We are even more happy to be able to safely indulge the secret perverse interest we have in sociopaths like him.

As a writer, I can only say, kudos to the creators of such a complex and fascinating character. I’ve created a lot of (hopefully) sexy protagonists, but never one like this.

Fun News re My Vampire Book

2009-07-07T20:13:00.007-05:00

Well, it’s been over a month since I updated you about my upcoming book How to Catch and Keep a Vampire. What a difference a month makes! In that time the release date has been moved up a couple of times (it’s now official: October 23!), a Facebook fan page sprang up and gets more fans every day (please join their ranks HERE) and the book has become available for pre-order from Barnes & Noble, Amazon and Chapters.

In case you think this has been all play and no work, I assure you that’s not the case! For the past five weeks my editor and I have been slaving madly away at editing, rewriting, creating more cool content, etc. In fact, you can take a sneak peak at the beautiful design of the book on my website here.

So come October, you will be able to find copies in bookstores everywhere (and hopefully prominently displayed!). Until then you will just have to keep wondering...

How to spot a vampire

How to end up dating him

This Dr. Grey fellow I’m obsessed with and why I shouldn’t be

The name of the most beautiful song a vampire ever played on guitar (IMHO)

The potentially dangerous secret of the red satin ribbon

How to say no to a vampire

And what happens if you say yes

And those are just the tip of the vampiric iceberg! I’m so excited to share it all with you, I won’t even mind this year when summer fades in Wisconsin! :-)

I Wanna Be Cat Deeley

2009-06-25T20:21:00.003-05:00

Just ask my husband how I often I launch into praise-filled raveouts about the hostess of “So You Think You Can Dance,” Cat Deeley. I know, I know, I get carried away. But I think the reasons for my girl-crush are kinda interesting, so hear me out.

Cat has done a lot in her career as a DJ, model, and TV personality, but my familiarity with her is limited to SYTYCD. So in this post I’m only speaking of Cat’s persona on the show. What I love about her is that she is young, gorgeous, shapely, and every inch a beauty, but on SYTYCD she almost never operates as a sex object. On the contrary, her relationship both with the audience and with the contestants is quite overtly maternal.

The media in the Western world normally never waste an opportunity to exploit sex, so this is astonishing. Here we have this woman who could easily be all kinds of sexy, but she simply doesn’t operate that way. I don’t know how much of this is her idea and how much is the producers’, but for me it works wonderfully.

Cat is far more than the host of the show. She is den mother to the dancers, always encouraging them and sympathizing with them in a way that plays as 100% sincere. During each season’s tryouts, Cat goes on the road to hang out with dancers waiting in line, warming up for their auditions, weeping over rejection and celebrating over success. Her sensitivity and tenderness toward these competitors is truly touching.

When the live show episodes get underway, Cat makes it plain that the tribe of 20 contestants are her “babies.” The judges may disapprove, may chide, may even browbeat, but Cat is “mom,” unconditionally. When dancers get the boot, it comforts the viewer to know Cat is there for them in the hour of their demise—a shoulder to cry on, a cheerleader to the end.

And what makes this all the more striking to me is that Cat is almost as young, and certainly as attractive, as any female on the show. Nevertheless she never crosses the line between maternal behavior and sexual seductiveness. The contrast is particularly interesting when some young, hot female celebrity is guest performer. Sure, I can appreciate the allure of someone like Kristinia DeBarge, but it seems so shallow when compared to the appeal of a more complex female archetype like Cat.

I’m not one to get into clothes and hairstyles; you won’t catch me watching Oscar red carpet reports to check out the gowns. But I do enjoy seeing Cat get dolled up twice a week, just to observe a woman looking really beautiful in the media without it being overtly about sex. Interestingly, that makes her all the more sexy, in my book.

Perhaps it’s because I like seeing a “spokesmodel” (horrible term!) serving a purpose that is more than being a pretty face and hot body. Cat demonstrates that a beautiful woman can have a deeper value, as she performs the role of guardian angel to her charges, and friend to her studio audience of predominantly adolescent girls.

Watching her makes me feel rather proud to be a woman. And that’s why my husband keeps having to listen to my recurring raveouts about Cat Deeley....

Yul Brynner and My Creative Past

2009-06-21T10:31:00.008-05:00

The other night I watched, for the umpteeth time, the amazingly wonderful movie version of Rodgers and Hammerstein's musical "The King and I." I have loved Yul Brynner's portrayal of the King of Siam for as long as I can remember.

This was the first time I had seen the film since I began my career writing romantic and erotic fiction. Watching all the scenes again, I was amazed at the influence this story and the King's character had upon my own storytelling. For example, I realize now that my novella Gift of Flesh (which you can read free online here) drew upon my subsconcious memories of the movie: the Burmese slave Tuptim falls in love with the man who delivers her to Siamese court, Lun Tha, just as my Miakaela fell for Naissun. Meanwhile, the Siamese king's struggle to reconcile the demands upon a strong monarch with his own personal mercy was doubtless some of my inspiration for Marcus, the hero of my story "The Scarlet Shackle" (also a free read here).

In truth, I could see in Yul Brynner's portrayal of the King the very essence of so many of my romantic heroes. I can see glimpses of him in the afore-mentioned Naissun and Marcus, Finn from Bloodchained, Prince Lucan from "The Dark Prince," Mr. Wellesley from "The Verity of the Vampyre," Adesteis from "The Chieftain's Man," and too many more to mention ("etcetera, etcetera, etcetera," as the King would say).

Yul won both a Tony and an Oscar for the role, so I am not alone in my admiration. As the King he managed to touch upon some very contradictory desires women feel for men. We want them to be strong, yet compassionate. We want them dominant but tenderhearted. We want them capapable of being funny and charming, but just as able to be stern, aggressive, and possibly even cruel.

It is virtually impossible for a real man to pull off all these traits and behaviors. To create a character who exhibits them all cohesively requires some brilliance, which of course Rodgers and Hammerstein had in spades. But just as much credit goes to the late Mr. Brynner, whose physical beauty, sexual attractiveness, acting prowess, and comedic talent all came together to create one of the most memorable characters in the history of both theater and film. I will always be in love with the King of Siam, and I have no doubt that love will continue to be reflected in many more of my characters as long as I continue to create romantic heroes.

Vampires or Werewolves?

2009-06-17T19:51:00.004-05:00

[SPOILERS: Take note, I have some “True Blood” Season 1 and New Moon spoilers in here, so read no further if you are in the middle of either!]

As a romance author I have certainly observed the rise in popularity of both vampires and werewolves (as well as other varieties of shapeshifters) in romantic fiction. Obviously I’m all over vampires as a romantic archetype, but werewolves were another story. You can probably chalk that up to lack of experience…the extent of my familiarity with werewolves is pretty much Lon Chaney and “American Werewolf in London.” At any rate, I just have never quite gotten the appeal.

I thought maybe you have to be a dog person.

Well rejoice, readers; this past week I got to know a couple of shifters more personally, while simultaneously reading Stephenie Meyers’ New Moon and watching Season 1 of “True Blood.” It was interesting enjoying these storylines that are so parallel in this regard. Edward or Jacob? Bill or Sam?

Well, obviously at first blush a girl is going to go for the flashier choice, the vampire. (Edward is literally flashy, in fact.) With both guys you get someone who is really attractive, complex, interesting, compelling, and deliciously dangerous. What’s not to love?

Well, if only because of sunshine-aversion, a vampire can’t always be there for you. Both Bill and Edward are forced by circumstances to absent themselves at length. And who steps in to fill the void for Sookie and Bella? The shapeshifters. After all, most of the time they can be (more or less) normal boyfriends for you. The fact that they sometimes turn into animals doesn’t prevent them from dealing with you like perfectly nice guys would, the rest of the time.

Meanwhile, in both storylines, Jacob and Sam also function to protect the heroine from madmen and monsters who would do them and their loved ones ill. Sort of like Lassie, only male. (See, I knew this was a dog person thing.) And even though I prefer cats, I have to admit Sam-as-collie coming to Sookie’s rescue was really awesome…and it was adorable how he, in dog form, lay at the foot of the bed guarding her.

Likewise, Jacob’s ability to wax lupine is pretty cool, when the whole point of it is to snatch Bella unharmed from the jaws of some vicious vamp. Wolves are actually really wonderful animals, and giant wolves that stand between you and the bad guys are even better.

So, we really have two classic romantic archetypes here, and each has a unique and powerful appeal. Sometimes a girl is drawn to the anti-hero—someone dangerous, a little deranged, very scary in a sexy way. Other times she simply wants to feel protected and safe, watched over by a fierce and strong guardian creature.

So okay, I get it, I get the werewolf/shapeshifter appeal. They can be attentive, faithful, strong but gentle, and wonderfully protective. I’d love to have a big, powerful, abjectly devoted guy like Jacob around. And Sam can sleep at the foot of my bed anytime.

Just so you understand, if Edward returns from Volterra suddenly, or if Bill comes back from the Tribunal, I’m going to have other priorities. That’s just me.

Bill Compton, Protect Me

2009-06-09T19:13:00.001-05:00

I told you I’d be blogging about “True Blood” again soon.

Well, in my last TB post I, not surprisingly, talked about the appeal of the vampire archetype. Obviously, vampire-wise, Bill Compton has it going on. He’s a real master of looking out of the tops of his eyes, he’s dangerous but charming, he’s half a beast, half a fine Southern gentleman.

As if that weren’t enough, the show lets him play a second and equally alluring role: the Knight in Shining Armor. A vampire in shining armor? Sure! You’ve seen it before in the pivotal and classic moment when Edward Cullen saves Bella from being crushed between two vehicles. The nifty side benefit of those vampiric powers is that they can be used to save damsels in distress.

And who’s in more distress than True Blood’s Sookie? The townsfolk think she’s crazy, the local young ne’er-do-wells are hot for her, and the neighborhood vampires have her in their sights. She may be brave and tough and spunky, but that doesn’t help when you’re outnumbered or outweighed by a hundred pounds. Or the assailant has supernatural powers.

Ah, but no worries: there’s Bill.

Bill, delightfully, is defined by the values and manners of the Old South (without that nasty racism of course). He is courteous, deferential, and painstakingly polite. And like any well-bred, properly-raised Southern boy, he puts women on a pedestal. They are to be watched over, guarded, protected, fought for even to the death.

No modern guy could behave in such a way—talk about politically incorrect. But due to his temporal displacement, Bill can get away with it with our blessing and admiration. Thank heavens! Because it’s absolutely wonderful and you’re not going to find a man like this anywhere in the 21st Century.

So Bill expresses his love for Sookie in Shining Armor fashion: vigilantly, and with preternatural thoroughness, he watches over her. When a threat appears, he’s on the scene in nearly the speed of light. He intervenes, wielding not anything so prosaic as reason, legal threats, or even a handgun, oh no…he wields his deadly fangs and supernatural strength.

Tell me, what woman doesn’t, somewhere in her soul if not all over it, want a man like this in her corner?

Not only that, but the passion with which Bill defends Sookie is so intense, it’s obviously not simply a matter of duty. It’s very, very personal, a fact reinforced when he employs the words “she’s mine” to fend off other vampires. [And I just love how the plot of this story makes it possible for a man to say of a woman, “she’s mine” and a woman to say “I’m his” and get away with it, with the female audience’s enthusiastic support. Very clever.]

Wow. So intense. The reaction of viewers to this show demonstrates to me that as great as the equality of the sexes is in nearly every respect, when it comes to sex and romance, a whole lot of us crave a trip in the Wayback Machine to the 19th Century. We’d love our own personal Knight in Shining Armor…or better still, a Creature of the Night in Shining Armor like Bill.

Help, My Celebrity Crush is Dating Someone

2009-06-07T20:51:00.004-05:00

My regular readers have had the *cough* privilege of observing, since its inception, my celebrity crush on Neil Gaiman. Although I've settled down quite a bit on that subject, Neil is still a person of no small significance in my world. (There's the fact that I dedicated Soulful Sex: The Darker Side to him earlier this year, and the fact that my last vacation was built around a pilgrimage to drop a copy off at one of his Minneapolis hangouts. Okay, yeah, no small significance.)

So I thought it only right to share with you the latest classic stage that I went through in this little saga.

Let us begin with one fact that I fully and totally embrace, and constantly tell others: When you have a celebrity crush, the person you are smitten with seldom bears much true resemblance to the real celebrity. Oh they look alike, to be sure. They have the same voice. They are in the same line of work, probably. But beyond that, it's a lot of embellishment by the psyche.

Knowing this, and wanting to take my own advice, I have many times referred to my celebrity crush as "my imaginary Neil Gaiman." Meanwhile, for a very long time I avoided all the places on the internet where many details of his day-to-day life are right there for one to monitor. Because, I reasoned, the real Neil Gaiman (although very cool and worthy of tremendous admiration and respect) is not the guy for whom I'm carrying a torch. Not really.

Well, the temptation was just too great. And as often is the case, in following Neil's blog and Twitter account I found out so much about him that it really largely killed the crush. He just wasn't the same as the way my imagination had worked him out to be. Which, duh, Diana, is how it always is, remember?

Is any of this ringing true to you guys? Like you had this vivid picture of this half-Edward-Cullen, half-Robert-Pattinson person with whom you were totally infatuated? Only to find out too much about the real guy and feel all weird and freaked out by it?

Okay. But on to today's point. So, I only very recently learned that, as I suspected, Neil was divorced. And then, yesterday, he went public about his dating musician Amanda Palmer, with whom he has been friends for some time. And you know what just cracks me up? I actually felt a pang of jealousy/sadness/grief about this! As if it had any relevance to me at all!

That just goes to show you how confused your psyche is about these things. From the beginning of my Neil Gaiman Infatuation I fully recognized I was head over heels for not Mr. Gaiman the Real Person, but my dear and wonderful Imaginary Version of Same. And seeing as it is the former, not the latter, who is dating, you'd think I couldn't care less. And STILL, with full understanding of all this, and in my infinite wisdom as Web Person Who Explains All About Sex and Romance, I still felt a five-minute-long pang!

It's just crazy.

But that's how "projection" works. It's very hard to separate your internalized view of your celebrity crush from the actual person, even if you know better.

Well, I took a deep breath. Then I reflected upon the fact that Mr. Gaiman's choice of being with Ms. Palmer over me was really not any indication of my personal inferiority. Then I laughed at myself for a very long time. Ah the human soul! It's just so nuts.

I'm not sure what the moral of the story is. Maybe I'm just saying, if you've ever gone through some "it kills me to think Robert Pattinson may be dating Kristen Stewart" moment, and then felt like an idiot for that emotion, please don't. It may be weird, but it is SO normal.

He Looks Like a Vampire

2009-06-03T13:00:00.005-05:00

Yesterday I officially hopped on the “True Blood” train, referring to the HBO series about vampires in a small Louisiana community. I’ve only watched the first episode so far, but that (and my past enjoyment of the work of series creator Alan Ball) was enough to hook me on the show.

I also just yesterday finished writing my new book How to Catch and Keep a Vampire (“CAKAV” for short), and I gotta tell you, it’s interesting being in my position. I’ve just written this book that purports to explain everything about vampires and how they work. But as you know, there are as many interpretations of vampires as there are authors who write about them. So it was funny for my husband and I to watch “True Blood” with an eye to seeing if it fit with the information in my book. Because of course, I’m the big authority, LOL.

Actually, True Blood’s mythology was uncannily the same, so that was very cool. I’m sure Alan Ball and original author Charlaine Harris will be thrilled to know they have my seal of approval. But seriously, the one thing I really appreciated about this first episode was the moment vampire protagonist Bill Compton first appears at Merlotte’s and is spotted by Sookie Stackhouse. With a single glimpse, Sookie is certain that she is looking at a vampire.

Yes, you can tell at a glance. That too is my conviction. And not because you can spot any obvious signs like pale complexion and pointy incisors. No, in my world when it’s a vampire you’re looking at, you just know.

Here’s the classic first look at Bill:

I’m sure if you saw a guy like this walk into your bar, you would know too. For one thing, he’s working what CAKAV refers to as “looking out the tops of your eyes,” something vampires make a routine practice. For another, he’s just too damn good-looking to be a regular mortal. And of course, he exudes Everything Vampire: sexiness, melancholy, menace, and charisma. And, a bit ironically, vulnerability.

Yes, Sookie, it doesn’t take psi powers to see Bill is a vampire.

You get clobbered with the attractiveness of an immortal like this and you just marvel once again at the power of the vampire archetype. Really, all the viewer got in the first minute of this encounter was (1) the way Bill looks, (2) Sookie’s mesmerized and lustful reaction to him, and (3) the knowledge that he is a vampire And All That Entails. But that’s a surefire recipe for a good percentage of women to be, like, sign me up for this guy’s fan club.

I’m not going to begin to analyze in this post why this recipe is so powerful. (Here’s where I start the chant that will, by December if not long before, make you want to conk me.) “For that, buy my book!” LOL But suffice it to say, you’ll be getting a few more posts on this blog about “True Blood” in the months to come.

I can’t wait to watch the next episode and get another look at this vampire. Swoon.

When Your Celebrity Crush Finds Out

2009-05-25T20:28:00.008-05:00

I first met my friend Rebecca after posting about "the Kohl's Guy" (aka Kevin Rice) last fall. She's a huge fan of his so of course she had to introduce herself. In the subsequent months Rebecca has done a bang-up job being a fan, sharing plenty of photos and entertaining content on her blog and also creating a Facebook page for Kevin. I've really enjoyed watching her go down such a path for the first time, having myself blazed that trail ridiculously often.

Recently, through the people who have signed up on Kevin's Facebook page, many of whom are his friends, it became clear to Rebecca that the man had most certainly at some point read her musings about him. Yes, she experienced the "OMG My Celebrity Crush Has Read My Stuff" Moment. There's nothing quite like it, that feeling that is the perfect blend of "oh yay he knows I exist!" and "oh god, he has to think I'm some insane stalker."

Rebecca reacted as all intelligent, well-adjusted, sensible people do when this occurs: She laughed at herself. I've certainly made fun of myself a number of times on this blog for my own romantic ravings about celebrities from whom I have the hots. It's a much healthier and more reasonable reaction than panic or shame. Certainly any celebrity who has run across fan commentary such as this merely smiles, is fairly pleased, and in the case of the humble ones, shakes his head and says, "If only you knew me, honey, you'd find out I'm just a guy."

Still, I know from experience that Rebecca is having the occasional panicky moment of shame. Well, shame is too strong a word: it's really more just embarrassment. I think that springs from the fact that when one writes or blogs about a celebrity crush, one's thoughts are in another world. We interact with our crushes in the realm of imagination. It's not like we filter everything we do and say in that place, keeping in mind that the actual man may someday read it. As much as it seems ironic, when we are most intimately and vividly engaged with our crush, the real fellow is quite far from the picture.

So when suddenly the flesh-and-blood guy pokes his head into the scene, looks around at what we've created, and reacts...well, it can really freak one out.

During my vacation this weekend, I made a pilgrimage to a comic book store in Minneapolis that is a favorite hangout of Neil Gaiman. For one thing, I do like stores like that, and wanted to see this particular, renowned one. DreamHaven is a very cool place in its own right. But my other purpose for the visit was to drop off for Neil a copy of the comic book I wrote, which includes reference to his inspiration as a comic book writer, and a copy of my collection Soulful Sex: The Darker Side which was dedicated to him.

This isn't the first time I've given a celebrity a book dedicated to him...I actually hand delivered my book Living Beyond Reality to the then-famous hockey player to whom it was dedicated. That was a scary and thrilling time. Meanwhile, I also sent Les Stroud a copy of the book that contained my story dedicated to him ("Spacewrecked with Joel Fennimore," Soulful Sex: The Science Fiction Collection), and it's weird to think he's read it.

The funny thing about this situation is that I'm not at all sure these books will ever be cracked open by Mr. Gaiman. For one thing, it would involve Greg (the owner of DreamHaven) actually remembering to give my package to him on a future, rare visit. And for another, it would require Neil to take the time to open it and look. And gifts from fans arrive in his hands every day, I'm sure.

So to be honest, I really simply went through the motions of this delivery in a ceremonial way; that is, just to go through officially with the dedication of the book. I certainly have no expectation of someday getting an email from Neil or even Greg about the matter. Which is fine with me.

Still, I can't say I haven't gone through the exercise of imagining Neil stretched out on his couch, reading my book by the amber light of one lamp, saying to himself, "Wow, I like this!"

That's just the kind of thing dreamers like me and Rebecca do. Much to our occasional, good-natured embarrassment.

From Horror to Romance: Vampires Transformed

2009-05-11T12:59:00.006-05:00

So, I can now share with you more about the book I’m currently writing for early 2010 release by Sellers Publishing. It’s called How to Catch and Keep a Vampire and will be a step-by-step guide to finding, selecting, wooing and being in a relationship with a vampire. Surely everyone will want a copy, right?

I’m about halfway through drafting the book and so far I’m having a wonderful time addressing issues like what traits are most attractive to vampires, how to relate to these undead charmers, etc. As I research the matter online I have been finding out just how many people out there have burning questions on this subject. I’m glad to do my part to provide answers and clarification. And yes, this book is supposed to be funny. But also helpful. You’ll just have to read it to see how this all shakes down.

Needless to say, this project has brought to my mind just what a huge volume of vampire literature, lore, and pop culture has accumulated from the time these creatures first appeared in our world. Particularly interesting to me is to watch the slow but sure evolution of the blood-drinker from horror icon to sex symbol.

If you want to go back to the earliest vampire movies, check out 1922’s German horror film “Nosferatu.” I share for you here a photo of Max Schreck in the starring role of Count Orloc, based upon Dracula from Bram Stoker’s novel. He is quite thoroughly unattractive and terrifying. And really, when you think about it, shouldn’t a creature that feeds on human blood be terrifying?

Nevertheless, from their earliest origins, vampires have always possessed a certain sexual allure, however shrouded in creepiness. The original movie Dracula, Bela Lugosi, certainly did. Everyone picked up immediately on the parallels between vampire victimization and erotic seduction. It wasn’t simply because the neck is an erogenous zone, although it is. There was also the eternal struggle of dominance and submission that we are often ashamed to associate with sex and therefore shroud in metaphor, like the vampire myth.

For most of my lifetime, the vampire genre has been a mixed bag of horror and eroticism. Both elements were always present—in different proportions, true, but always both. Only in recent years have we seen the erotic—and even, can you believe it, romantic—side rise to the fore. A lot of people will credit Stephenie Meyer and Twilight for this development, but in fact, it was brewing before her books became bestsellers. Romance readers have for years had an insatiable appetite for vampire romance. More and more authors (myself included with my novellas “Pints” and “The Verity of the Vampyre” and my novel Bloodchained) were finding ways before Twilight to provide romantic vampire heroes to our readers.

A century ago vampires were served up as horror characters with a dash of sexiness. Now it is all the rage to make vampires into sex symbols with a dash of the sinister, like Spike here from “Buffy the Vampire Slayer.”

I think the change is reflective of a larger societal transformation. And I think it’s a good one. We have become more accepting of our own “dark urges,” if you will. More and more people are discovering it’s possible to explore that side of the psyche and keep your moral compass. In fact, playing on the dark side can be refreshing and invigorating, and actually help a person keep to “the straight and narrow” in real life.

A similar phenomenon can be seen in the popularity of Harry Potter. Witches and warlocks were once nearly universally feared and loathed. But at Hogwarts, in spite of the mystery and intermittent scariness, we find the world of witchcraft turned into a wholesome environment in which kids can grow up.

How to Catch and Keep a Vampire would not have worked a hundred years ago unless it was about trapping and extermination. But happily, in today’s world there are a whole lot of people who love vampires and simply want to understand why they do, and what to do with that affection.

It’s going to be really fun for me to give them some ideas.

The Poetry of C.E. Chaffin

2009-05-04T11:26:00.005-05:00

Today I'm doing something unusual for me, and taking part in the virtual book tour of an amazing poet who introduced me to his work recently. I was just so happy to be able to share with my readers the lovely poetry of C. E. Chaffin.

Craig recently published his book, Unexpected Light, and is spreading the word around the Web. I asked Craig to tell me how he feels about writing romantic poetry, and here was his eloquent reply:

"Love poetry is exceedingly difficult to write, in my opinion, as it is a subject as old as poetry, possibly even the first subject. Thus when putting pen to paper a poet must be conscious of the great tradition, from Sappho to Dante to Donne to Shakespeare and onward. Clichés are hard to avoid; without a historical consciousness of love poetry, culled from much reading, the poet may just end up repeating ideas and language already dedicated to the tradition of love.

"My own poems are inspired by my true love of ten years, Kathleen McGovern Chaffin. Since we met, despite all the challenges of our mutual disabilities--(she is deaf and suffers from depression; I'm a manic-depressive also under treatment for chronic pain)--love has truly triumphed over all. Every morning when I wake and see her dear face sleeping I am filled again with wonder at the miracle of human love. It transforms and feeds, it supports and encourages, and as the Apostle Paul wrote, "Love never faileth." Indeed.

"True love is a miracle that inspires even non-poets to poetry. It is up to poets to make others feel the feeling and have the experience in a more universal literary sense. My approach is varied, but nearly all my poems address the loved one directly, through a variety of experiences and examples, as the work you post here, I hope, shows."

Thank you, Craig--just beautiful sentiments. And without further ado, three erotic/romantic poems by my guest, C.E. Chaffin.

Easier

A pile of ash, a spaniel on a string,
a dormant summer lawn:
morning splits the milkweed shaft
left leafless by the Monarchs.
White skeletons rise aloft,
dandelion-bright.
At night
the kettle barbecue drops embers in its dish.
Two lightning bugs arc in and out
then reappear beneath a wall
of trees where they were not--

and all these jewels and wings,
the need of the dog caught
by his running leash, starved for touch,
and this pen condemned to a narrow life--

easier to focus on your green eyes
lightly puffed by grief, your lashes
dark as night's vegetation
because love never dies,
like the devotion of this spaniel,
and this man, and this
impossible art.

Not Wake the Tiger

Come with me, love
across this field of crimson poppies
to a bed of rushes
where the old tiger sleeps;
we will not wake him.

Do not bring your purse or make-up,
shed your jeans and bra.
Let your creamy legs
part the scarlet meadow,
the great pearls of your cheeks
rise and fall as in a carousel
above your pussy's diamond
as you glide ahead.

Lay your head
on the heaving stripes
of this old killer's belly
and be at ease because
he no longer dreams
of violence but generation.
Then sleep that I may admire
you at my leisure.

Softly you’ll stir
as I lick the pebbles of your areola
until you wake
with that infantile, angelic smile
of the truly loved.

Aroused you'll straddle me,
breasts grazing my chest,
your moist envelopment
my sure extinction as you flex
your magnificent thighs as if in prayer:
We will not wake the tiger.

Sea Hare

When I say, "Do you love me?"
I 'm really asking, of course,
whether I love you
across this mad suspension bridge--
dark the gorge below
though not so dark as losing you
I pray the rope never unravels.

You are that perfect thing,
the sea hare I held in the moonlight,
translucent, patched with purple,
gelatinously firm
quivering invertebrate jewel
containing the entire sea
in boneless miniature.
So you envelop me.

I am a hollow cedar
stuffed with your scent,
scarred by the fire of your handkerchief.
My roots run to your ocean.
Ah, to hold you naked and wet!

A Million Words

2009-05-02T08:31:00.008-05:00

I've been quiet for awhile here, and there's a reason for that: I've been waiting for the go-ahead to share with you the details about a surprise new book I'm working on. It's hard for this blabber-mouth to stay quiet this long. So even though I haven't yet received said go-ahead, I simply have to share with you what I can.

I received an email about three weeks ago from the publishing director of a medium-sized house in Portland, Maine. The company is Sellers Publishing, and they are among the fastest growing publishers of their size in the U.S. They specialize in gift books, and you might have heard of their series of "500" cookbooks or or the 50 Things to Do When You Turn 50, etc. series. This nice woman wanted to know if, even though I publish all my own work, I would be willing to consider writing a title for Sellers.

She shared the idea with me and it was absolutely superb. Not only that, I felt like I have spent the last 25 years of life preparing to write such a book. We discussed it further, I put together an outline, and the project was greenlit with much eager enthusiasm by all parties. An early 2010 release was planned. This past Wednesday I signed the contract, which included an actual advance, which I assure you is one thing a person never sees no matter how successful their own little publishing company may be.

A friend of mine likened this situation to when a starlet is discovered sitting at the counter in a Hollywood soda fountain. That made me smile. Did I expect such a thing could ever happen? Well, I've learned you can never predict what life may bring, that's for sure. On the one hand, I've always thought it unlikely that publishers roam the world looking for authors; that business is generally one where the authors scratch and claw and pray for attention.

But on the other hand, I estimate I have put a good million words up on the internet in the past ten years.

This is how Sellers found me: Their publishing director wanted to find the right person to write this dream title of theirs, so she Googled some related terms, and found an essay of mine from 2006. The style and content of the essay was just what she was looking for. She visited my Web site, investigated me further, became convinced I could be the one for the job. She emailed me, and here we are.

You could say this book deal was a heckuva lot easier to accomplish than the route I used to try before 2004: sending manuscripts over and over to various publishers till I got a hit. And that's certainly true. I decided in 2006 I had established a big enough readership that I was done with that approach, because it can be exhausting and discouraging and 25 years of that was quite enough.

But on the other hand, getting this book deal wasn't easy at all.

I've believed for a long time that regardless of an author's approach to his or her career, you have to get yourself out there. I've had one or more Web sites for over a decade, with new content all the time. I've placed essays with other sites, put out press releases, posted entire books online for free, blogged and done columns, etc. Was it a hardship? To be honest, sometimes I didn't feel like it, but I did it anyway. But the majority of the time I enjoyed it, because above all things I love to write. Well, about all things, I love to be read, and that's why the Internet is possibly my favorite thing in all the world.

I do feel very, very fortunate to have this great opportunity. Mostly I am grateful to Sellers for being so creative and so willing to turn over their fantastic concept to me to execute. But at the same time, this experience has confirmed to be my long-held belief that the best way to realize your dreams is to work really, really hard.

This past week I did an interview with a local weekly here in Milwaukee, on the subject of self publishing. The reporter asked me what advice I'd give to aspiring publishers. I told her the same thing I would tell an aspiring author. It's this: Success is based not so much on having a dream, but on being smart, working hard, and staying the course.

I started writing the new book this week and it's almost scary how it flows out of the keyboard. But then, like I said, the last 25 years--and those million words--have definitely prepared me for this moment.

The Opposite of Erotic is…PMS?

2009-04-23T18:34:00.005-05:00

Okay, today I’m blogging about something rather weird, I know. Here’s why: this morning I discovered that although I’m not actually PMS-ing, I am in a PMS-ey mood. I found it interesting that I actually had a mental picture of a “PMS-ey mood.” And I thought, maybe I could do a nice little public service announcement here about what we women actually mean when we say we’re PMS-ing. I know, cool, right?

Let’s start with the title of this post, and I’ll tell you why I consider feeling erotic or sexy as the opposite of PMS-iness. For myself and many women, erotic feelings are submissive--the “go ahead and do what you will to me” kinda thing. We find whatever male has caught our attention to be authoritative, or dominant, or having potential to please us. The guard goes down, we’re eager to play.

On the opposite end of the scale is PMS. Now I realize a lot of women, myself included, experience PMS as worry or sadness. But today I’m talking more about another very common symptom: crankiness. But be aware: this is no ordinary irritability we’re talking about here. For me, at least, PMS-iness is a particular kind of bad mood.

Here’s the common thread of thinking running through my head during one of these monthly “fits of pique”:

do NOT waste my time
your idiocy is fraying my last nerve
how can people possibly do such lame-ass things?
try that again and I will SO punch you

Now I’m not a biologist, nor a sociologist, but I’ll just open my opinionated mouth and say, I think the PMS thing is like being a guy without any of the other guy traits to keep you in check. Like, most guys seem to me to be equipped with a “bygones” gland. It’s what gives them the remarkable ability to let things go, whether it be a whupping at the pool table or having their girlfriend stolen. (Women are not typically like this.)

So when I’m feeling PMS-ey, I get the aggressive feelings of a male, without any “bygones” element. When a car cuts me off on the freeway, I will follow it and give serious thought to tracking the driver to his garage and slapping him. When people at work suggest ideas they know nothing about and I rejected years ago, I hang up the phone and call them bad names to myself off and on over the next hour. Every smoker I see gets an internal comment, “Way to kill yourself and raise my medical costs, loser!”

I know, pretty mean, right? But honestly, PMS can make you feel like those around you got up this morning with a firm plan to ruin your day. They make one little human mistake and you take it as a personal affront. Everyone is the enemy in some small way, some in big ways.

You know, there’s that old saying that if mothers ran the armies, we’d have no more wars. I say, not if they’re PMS-ey…in that case, here come the nukes! And see how this is quite the opposite of feeling erotic? It’s make war, not love.

Well, fortunately, we women are still civilized creatures. I’d bet you any money no one around me (except perhaps the poor unfortunate Davie) even guesses I am capable of such moods. Usually the only beneficiary of all the ill feeling is my own psyche.

And the funny thing about it is, there’s actually a positive side to having the occasional PMS-ey mood. Seeing as most of the time I live my life trying to be cooperative, affectionate, conciliatory, etc., it’s kind of nice sometimes to unleash my inner bee-atch. You know, get the vitriol out of the system. Because it’s really hard to write erotic romance when you’re gunked up with all that negative aggression.

So anyhoo, I’m sure I’ve really enhanced your lives, guys, by telling you the sorts of things your female significant others are thinking when in a PMS-ey mood. You’re welcome. My pleasure. Grrrrrr. :-)

Impossible Sexiness

2009-04-15T18:57:00.006-05:00

Occasionally I like to peruse my husband's PC Gamer magazines. There's not a lot in them I can relate to, not being a gamer myself (except for Peggle, which rules). However, I enjoy the geek banter and the fantasy art.

What continually cracks me up is how computer games portray their female characters. I call it "the BB Phenomenon," which stands for "Bronze Brassiere." Whether they're battling demons in hell, post-apocalyptic zombies, or orcs, these chicks always face danger fearlessly wearing nothing but a bronze brassier and a chain mail miniskirt. I'll bet women in the Armed Forces find this even funnier than I do.

But heck…this isn't war, it's fantasy. If you're going to be staring for hours at a shapely female battling giant spiders on your monitor, why wouldn't you want her to look hot? (Which reminds me to ask the question of any male gamers who read this. Do you always play a female character in third person POV games? Davie does, not because he's secretly a cross-dresser, but because he wants to spend the game looking at a hot female. Makes sense, really.)

Well, back to my point for the day--it's easy to poke fun at the ways men picture their ideal women, because we can see with our own eyes how far they are from reality. But honestly, aren't women just as guilty? The reason we're not so blatant about it is that we idealize character rather than appearance. But cripes, the preposterous characters we come up with! You're more likely to run into Red Sonja than some of these guys. Let me provide a few examples.

Mr. I'm-Evil-Except-with-You. The most common version of this guy is the vampire or other dark character, some fellow who commits heinous acts toward everyone else nightly, but for you is transformed by love into a paragon of devotion. Sure, it plays in fiction. But in real life, if a guy is nasty, cranky, a user, etc., he does so quite consistently. Only fools (and we can be fools, I admit) will think such a man will be different with one woman. And even if that were true, who wants to be with someone who is nice to you but the rest of the time kicks dogs?

The Brooder. Now this is the guy who isn't even that great toward you. And yet, you want him: you want him to share his terrible secret, to take solace in your arms, to just keep doing that really sexy pout. The tortured soul gets us every time. He seems so needy, so interesting. But in real life, Heathcliff isn't romantic, he's just annoying. He never wants to cheer on your favorite team, watch "Seinfeld" with you, or read "I Can Has Cheezburger." Not actually so sexy.

The Superhero. This kind of character would actually be great in real life, but like Red Sonja, is just not, well, plausible. Not only will you be hard pressed to find a guy with Superman's powers, you probably won't even find one with his ethics. And in spite of our knowing this, a lot of women (I'm a prime example) go through life sure there must be a real superhero. Intelligent, strong, talented, sensitive, self-sacrificing, honest, faithful, all one-hundred-percent of the time? Nope, not even Davie. And yet we persist in searching....

The Pirate. Ah for a lusty adventurer, swashbuckling through life, wielding a sword so as to rip our bodices with aplomb! He's rough and ready, a man's man, with testosterone to spare. Throw into this category any of those uber-masculine type guys, like crab fishermen and ice road truckers. What woman can resist? Well, again, works better on paper...also smells better, may have better teeth, and definitely has more free time. Face it, ladies, any guy who is preoccupied with duties that tax his manhood to the brink daily is going to have more on his mind than romancing you.

Yep, without doubt we women do our own version of the BB Phenomenon. Our men are all rock stars, poets, vampires, tycoons, and princes. They swim with sharks, travel in space, and can kill a man with a Colt .45 at fifty paces. They do this and more, all the while staying clean, saying witty things, and taking us out to dinner at least once a week.

It makes sporting a bronze brassiere look like child's play.

Looking for the Most Unforgettably Hot Heroes

2009-04-09T21:29:00.006-05:00

Readers, I need your help. During April I am seeking a consensus on who are the truly unforgettable heroes of books, TV and film. And I want your opinion represented!

Back story: I do a monthly column for the Novelspot website, and for my April column I raised the topic. As much as we women can have our “hero-of-the-month”--the latest guy who gets to grace our computer wallpaper for a week or two--we also each have certain faves that seem to linger in our hearts all our lives. Something about them impacts us, hard, and we may even spend our whole lives measuring other males against them, both fictional and real life.

In case you’re wondering which three men I used for my own personal examples, they were:

Books: Mr. Darcy from Pride and Prejudice
Movies: Klaatu from “The Day the Earth Stood Still,” 1951, played by Michael Rennie
TV: Ben Linus from “Lost,” played by Michael Emerson

And you can read what I had to say about them in the post “What Hot Heroes Are Unforgettable to You?”

I promised to report what I hear in my May column, so please don’t leave me high and dry! You can post in the comments here, or if you prefer, email me at dianalaurence [at sign] wi.rr.com. Feel free to just give me names, but if you’d like to elaborate on your nominees’ appeal, by all means do so. Again, I’ll take any fictional characters, from books, movies or TV.

Let’s give these unforgettable guys their due!

BTW, the illustration of Mr. Darcy is a piece of a lovely painting by an artist called Sive, which you can see in full here: http://sive.deviantart.com/art/The-Dance-26167461

If This Woman (Me) Were a Man, Easy-Peasy!

2009-04-02T18:48:00.002-05:00

Maybe I'm weird, but ever since college, I've occasionally given thought to what I would be like if I were male. I'll probably get an argument from my male readers, but to me it really seems like a piece of cake.

Well, in all respects but one: playing sports. I've always been horrific at sports, and the idea of being in the 2 percentile at sports AND male is pretty daunting. I'm sure I could throw a ball better with male shoulders (heck, a male iguana can throw better than me), but still. I do not envy men what they go through as physical competitors while in school.

But that point aside, there are advantages at every turn. Gosh, where do I start?

1. Supporting a family and being "head of a household" are no biggie. I've been the main breadwinner for my family for more than half of my adult years (two different marriages) and managed the affairs of those households almost entirely. I've had to deal with the corporate world (legal, finance, etc.) and all the nightmares that entails, while having the disadvantage of not being taken seriously because I'm female. Done this stuff as a chick...would have been even easier as a guy.

2. Two words: no periods. Ladies, imagine how much easier life would be! Two more words: no pregnancies. Two more: no menopause. Nuff said.

3. I realize if I had a male disposition I would probably be less adept at interpersonal relationships and thus have the typical struggles men have with connecting with their kids. The mom thing is an advantage there. But this is offset by the fact that kids just don't have as high of expectations of their dads. I.e., a little paternal approval and attention goes a long way.

4. It would be SO much easier to be attractive to the opposite sex. I'll explain. Women have much lower standards for physical attractiveness. Assuming I was in the same percentile of objective good looks as a male as I am now as a female, I'd put me at approximately the 60 percentile. Certainly good enough for the majority of women. And absolutely not good enough for the majority of men. As a guy I would be pretty short, decent build except for slight pot belly, pretty damn good for 52. As a woman I am very slight of bust, and, well, 52. Bleah.

5. Which leads me to that issue: Men can be a force into their 60s and beyond. In most respects, women are over-the-hill at 40 by our society's standards.

6. Oops, back at sex appeal: I also know, as a woman, what women find sexy: competence, self-confidence and a sense of humor. I am fortunate to have all these. They are also things that the average man doesn't have at the top of his "want list" for the ideal woman. See how much better I would fare as a guy?

This is a short list, but you get the gist. I would love a shot at being the male version of myself for a year or so and see how well I would fare. Problem is, there are things about being a woman that I would hate to give up. Like being able to be with men without the challenges gay guys must face. And wearing women's clothes without the challenges transvestites must face. And being free to do anything you want without it seeming "unmanly"--like squealing at cute guys and cuddly animals, and doing crafts, and demonstrating physical affection to those of my own sex. And in spite of #2 above, I really liked birthin' babies.

I also will admit that it isn't always easy being a white guy, as nowadays they suffer a sort of backlash for all the generations during which they had the most power. For example, white men of today are not the ones who conducted the Inquisition, enslaved African-Americans, or fought against women's suffrage, and it isn't fair that there are often "sent to the end of the line" because of the errors of their great-great-grandfathers.

I'm also not trying to make the point here that women are superior to men, so don't think that I am. An awful lot of women drive me absolutely nuts. And a lot of my own so-called "feminine traits" also drive me nuts.

And guys, please don't take this smug little blog post as criticism of you. I like men, and know a lot of men I admire. I just happen to think it's less work to be an admirable man than a woman our culture looks upon as worthy of admiration (sadly). But please, go ahead and correct me if I'm wrong!

One Man's View of Inner Beauty

2009-03-27T17:43:00.003-05:00

In my last blog post I talked about Wendy, Les Stroud's assistant, whom I have enjoyed getting to know in the course of our exchanges about her boss. Well, Wendy is an awesome person in her own right...and so, it seems, is her husband Brian.

Wendy mentioned to me that Brian recently published a book of poetry called In Between. I read a few samples, and was particularly struck by the one entitled "Beauty." I've often talked about the unfortunate inequity how attraction works for the two sexes. (Well, that's a nice way of putting it. In fact, I've whined about men's obsession with outward appearances.) So naturally I was tickled to encounter a poem by a man (a rugged, outdoorsy, Canadian man, no less) that showed a very thoughtful appreciation for a woman's mind and soul. Brian gave me permission to reprint it for you here:

Beauty

Some men are drawn to the curve of a hip
Some drawn to the curve of a breast.
Some men are drawn to the length of a leg
Some to the color of hair.
But some are drawn by the mystery,
Of sensuality in intelligence.
Drawn into the realm of infinite thought,
Pulled into the mind of imagination.
Called to by the curve of a question,
Enticed by endless conversation.
Just as the alluring curves, colors, and smells,
Of the feminine body's mystique.
The soft touch of intelligence in sexuality
Can make the hardest man become weak.
For the colors fade and perfumes dissipate,
And the curves often tend to obscure.
The bond of two minds wrapped in loving embrace
Tends to slip so much less throughout time.
And the gentle kiss of paired mentality,
Lingers more often on the lips of the mind.

Lovely, huh? To read more samples of Brian's work, you can visit his MySpace page. The book is available from Amazon here.

Thanks, Brian!

Thanks to Les Stroud for Being My Fan!

2009-03-24T19:32:00.005-05:00

That thump you heard a couple hours ago was my head hitting the ceiling. Why was I floating way off the ground? I'll tell ya.

I was contacted a week ago by Romantic Times BOOKclub magazine in their search for romance authors with celebrity fans, for a feature in their July issue. I felt like there was some celebrity I could think of that I knew was my fan (oh, I'm sure there are hundreds of them I don't know about, chah, right), and I just couldn't let go of the question.

I was in the kitchen putting away dishes, just another part of my glamorous romance author lifestyle, when it came to me. Les Stroud! Long time followers of my blog know that Les and I have exchanged books and DVDs and such a few times in a little frenzy of mutual admiration...well, I definitely admire him anyway, which you can learn from my many Les posts. But while this is certainly my most significant celebrity connection (I trust I'm not offending any of my fellow Y-list celebs when I say that; c'mon, you guys are all my friends and I love you!), I wasn't sure I could say Les was a "fan."

So...I wrote up a little paragraph with our history and emailed it to Les's fabulous assistant Wendy (you see her name in the closing credits of "Survivorman"). And I waited hopefully for a reply. In the week that passed, Wendy had to get in touch with Les in the Bahamas where he is filming another shark show for the Discovery Channel. She ran my proposal by him, and he said, "Sure!"

[I'm of course picturing Les underwater in a shark cage, with deadly lemon sharks ramming the bars, as he is texting Wendy on his waterproof iPhone: s...u...r...e]

Wendy has borrowed my books from Les and she is definitely a fan. That means a lot to me too! And tonight I am Wendy's biggest fan! And grateful as always to that dear and wonderful guy, Les Stroud.

Now just cross your fingers that the magazine decides to include us! What fun that would be.

Why Nice Girls Go for Bad Boys

2009-03-18T18:40:00.003-05:00

A friend and fan of mine, let's call him Adam, emailed me in response to my last post about Ben Linus. Adam wondered, why the heck is it that women are so attracted to villains? He recounted a story of dating a woman with a history of abuse, and treating her kindly and well for a change, only to have her end up returning to her previous nasty boyfriend.

Adam is not alone, that's for sure. I know so many men who grew up believing the best way to woo a girl was to be nice to her, only to find out that like in so many areas of life, nice guys finish last with chicks. So they wonder, what is the deal with females? These ladies can't really be gluttons for punishment, can they?

My answer to that is, no, women are not after punishment when they fall for Bad Boys. On the contrary, they are out for rewards, in one or both of two key ways:

1. Bad Boys make up for our having to be so darn good. I've talked about this one a lot. Traditionally, girls are raised to be cooperative, empathetic, nurturant, willing to compromise and sacrifice their own needs. Having had to stifle self-interest, women are fascinated by males who live their lives selfishly and independently. Such men are everything we Good Girls are not: they break the rules, ignore convention, and do whatever they damn well please. In the great tradition of "opposites attract," these guys draw women like moths to flame. Just being around them is exciting, liberating, and arousing. Sure, there's a price to be paid--ill treatment--but to a point, it's an acceptable price.

2. There is nothing more satisfying than reforming a Bad Boy. I honestly think this is what's behind most of the truly "hard cases" of women hooked on cruel men. I haven't spent as much time discussing this one, so let's focus on it today.

There's a saying that goes, "Women marry men hoping to change them; men marry women hoping they won't change." Ever wonder why women so often have this agenda? Well, historically speaking, while men were busy with government, commerce, the professions, etc., women had to focus on homemaking. Therefore, if a woman was to feel fulfilled, and earn a sense of accomplishment, she had to do it by shaping the household. One key element of that was making improvements upon her husband.

Really, if you marry a nice guy, what challenge is there in that? It's already his nature--you can't take any credit for it. But if you adopt a Bad Boy, and by your love and effort and charms manage to reform him, that really proves something. It proves that this guy, who came to you all anti-social and dysfunctional, was transformed by his love for you. Could there be anything more flattering and self-affirming to a gender restricted largely to homemaking?

Nowadays it's easier for women to find fulfillment in arenas outside the home, but after thousands of years of behavior patterns, we are not going to change our propensities overnight.

Okay, now let's apply this principle to a couple of examples. In Example 1, you're Cinderella and the guy is Prince Charming. He's pretty much perfect when you meet him: brave, with a fine sense of duty, perfect manners, and the ability to ballroom dance to boot. Once you overcome the nasty people trying to keep the two of you apart, and achieve Happily Ever After, the story's over. And what have you accomplished? You tell yourself, "Hey, I won the heart of a nice guy"; but especially to the young and inexperienced, it seems like if you had faced more of a challenge you would feel even better about yourself.

Flip side: for Example 2, let's go back to Ben Linus. It's hard to be certain, but he seems like a lonely, f'ed up, megalomaniacal misfit. He's duplicitous, selfish, tricky and untrustworthy. Imagine then if you could be the woman who heals his emotional wounds, meets his unmet needs, and transforms him into a whole and healthy person. Now that's an accomplishment! And imagine how grateful Ben would be to you! You are truly his salvation, his whole world. You did what no one before you could do. You're amazing!

And that's how it works, Adam, my friend. When your girlfriend's nasty ex came after her again, she thought, "See, he needs me, he misses me, he can't live without me. I am changing him!" And of course she couldn't turn her back on him then, just when he was displaying evidence of this glorious transformation-by-love! Why should she stay with you, a nice, integrated, whole person, and take the easy road? There's a man out there who just can't make it without her!

Of course he was just acting that way for the moment, to get her back for sex, cleaning, cooking, a sympathetic ear, etc. Of course it all went bad again. But she was willing to risk it, just in case. And until everything fell through, she could once again glory in the feeling of being with a Bad Boy.

In a horrible way it makes sense, doesn't it?

So what's a nice guy like Adam to do? Hang in there and stay true to your nice self. Most women do wise up (there are three in my family who did, for example). Women are not actually stupid, nor are they masochists. Eventually they learn the lesson that the pain a Bad Boy causes more than offsets the pleasure he offers, and then they start looking for a man who will treat them well.

Which, by the way, is what ended up happening to my friend Adam. Because although Bad Boys may finish first in the sprints, life happens to be a marathon.

[About the illustration for today's post: This is a drawing I found of devil Crowley and angel Aziraphale, two characters from the book Good Omens. I find this depiction of a bad boy and a nice guy who are both attractive really fascinating. So do many artists, it would appear (just search Deviant Art for "Good Omens" and see). Anyway, this drawing was done by the fabulously talented Linnpuzzle]

Bad Boys, Good Guys, and Ben Linus

2009-03-15T21:32:00.008-05:00

My daughters and I recently discussed the experiences all three of us have now endured, regarding the transition from Bad Boys to Good Guys. I dare say we are in good company in that regard.

Women often dig guys that treat them mean. It's complicated. I've discussed the attraction of the Bad Boy archetype at some length, both here on the blog and in my other columns, so I won't go into his special charms again here.

But the thing is, many of us have our first significant relationship with a guy who is less than kind. Some of us never get past it, and repeat the mistake over and over. But a lot of us learn from the experience. We recognize that Bad Boys can be charming, and sexy, and exciting, but in the end are just not worth it. They may offer thrills, giddy emotions, and hot sex...but the trade-off for a Good Guy, who gives you support, respect, understanding, and nurturance, is totally worth it.

My daughters and are all currently in relationships of various stages, from second date to six months to 15 years of marriage, all with nice guys. None of them are the kind who walk into a bar and turn heads; but all of them are perfectly attractive and very sweet guys. Do we three still find ourselves attracted to Bad Boys? You bet. Would we be with one? Hell's no.

So...what about Benjamin Linus? Well, Lost fans, I was thinking about all the stuff reinterated above, and I realized something that may account for the irresistible power this character has over so many women. Paradoxically (and isn't the Island always good for another paradox?), Ben is both Bad Boy and Good Guy at once.

This has been true from his very first appearance on the show. Remember when he swore he was just another castaway, an innocent guy named Henry Gale? No matter how many reasons we had to think he was lying, he was really some sort of evil mastermind, there was always that chance he really was a nice man. This has remained his shtick ever since. Just when you think he truly is pursuing a higher goal, he really may be the savior of all our heroes, he pulls some nasty stunt like a mass murder.

But meanwhile, just when he's rubbed out his latest enemy in cold blood, we become convinced he did it for some higher reason: true love, maybe...or to save countless other lives. He can just seem so damn sincere. With Ben, somehow duplicity comes across as genius, outrageous gall seems like courage, lying seems like, well, impressive outsmarting. In his most recent outing, Ben murdered Major Good Guy John Locke with his bare hands...and yet, all the while I watched the act, I was saying to myself, "This has to be for a good reason. I mean, it has to be. Right?"

So, with Ben Linus we women get to have our cake and eat it too. We can feel all tingly when Ben fools everyone with his latest lie, and all fluttery when he orders people around. But in the next minute we can honestly entertain the belief that in the end, Ben could save everyone we love on this show. We can feel pathos when he gets brutally beat up yet again (how many times has it been now? Surely some devoted fan is keeping count). And in the next scene we can marvel at how it seems every string in the plot is pulled by Benjamin Linus the Master Puppeteer.

I'm not sure I can think of a better example in any fictional medium of a man being Hero and Villain virtually simultaneously. And I have to believe it is this complex hybrid of the two archetypes that keeps women fascinated by Ben.

There are a lot of plot lines up in the air on Lost, but for my money, the one I look most forward to seeing resolved in a couple more years is this: Is Ben Linus a Bad Boy or a Good Guy? I am so hoping for the latter, but in the meantime, it's his role as the former that keeps me glued to his scenes.

Funny how that works.

[Ben Linus fans, please see also my original Ben post: "Please Tell Me Why I Love Ben Linus"]

When Heroes Have Human Heartaches

2009-03-10T20:08:00.001-05:00

My current celebrity obsession, Neil Gaiman, and my longest-term celebrity obsession, Guy Carbonneau, both suffered very unhappy losses over the past few days.

You may not know that for over a decade I have maintained the unofficial website of famed NHL player and coach Guy Carbonneau. Approaching 400 pages in size, it is a genuine online biography of a man who, to my mind, epitomizes the heroic sports figure. I don’t post to it much anymore, but try to keep it up to date at least.

So last night I had to update with the sad news that after nearly three seasons, Coach Carbonneau of the Montreal Canadiens had been fired.

Obviously I’m the last person who will say it was deserved. And you, my usual readership, are not the demographic to care for a debate over that issue. But I will mention that several weeks ago, Canadiens GM Bob Gainey was saying the hiring of Carbonneau was one of his wisest moves. And just last season, Guy contended for NHL Coach of the Year. I’ll shut up now.

And meanwhile, in even less happy news, as I type this Neil Gaiman is back home in England, preparing with his family for his father’s funeral. David Gaiman passed away suddenly a few days ago of a heart attack. As you may or may not know, Neil has for years been known for blogging about his personal doings (in a tasteful, humble, well-mannered way). How strange it was today to see his blog post and tweets, and watch his valiant attempts at staying in touch with fans while sorrow overcomes him. I was relieved when he informed his readers of a hiatus.

When you idolize a person, it’s easy for your psyche to project upon him whatever imaginative material is of use to you at the moment. When you are lonely, thoughts of him keep you company. When you are oppressed, you may envision him as a white knight, come to the rescue. When you are bored, you may seek him for adventure.

It’s interesting then, when the hard realities of life strike that celebrity, and you are reminded that he is just another human being like yourself. I have lost a job and I have lost a parent. So today what I feel for my two personal idols is compassion and empathy. I may often behave as if they are heroes out of fable, but today I am more than willing to consider them mere men.

And I am all the more grateful to be reminded that these mere men are the sort who deal gracefully, thoughtfully, and sensitively with misfortune. It is these sorts of people, who actually take seriously the fact that others look up to them, who are worthy of genuine (as well as fantasized) admiration.

Torn Between Two Lovers

2009-03-05T18:21:00.006-06:00

Last night on “Lost,” the writers set up a very nice new love triangle. Sawyer, who fell for Kate but never established a relationship with her, has been pining during the three years of their separation (he’s on the Island, she’s back in civilization). Well, actually, he’s been simultaneously pining for Kate and falling in love with Island cohort Juliet. Imagine Sawyer’s predicament when, still flushed from Juliet’s latest embraces, he finds Kate & Co. have returned to the island.

The love triangle is a plot device that never grows old.

Usually the focus in this kind of story line is on the competition between the two individuals fighting for the love of the third. For example, in the past “Lost” had a storyline about Jack and Sawyer competing for Kate. There’s endless fun in that kind of plot line, as you root for your favorite to win out.

But on the flip side, it’s also fun to focus on the person who is in love with two people at once. I think this may be the female equivalent of a three-way, in fact. Rather than fantasizing about having sex with two men at once (not that we never do that, it’s just not like with men who constantly do that), we imagine having two men in love with us. It certainly wouldn’t suck to have that happen.

Interestingly, it’s also fun to imagine being in love with two people at the same time. Why is that? Never being short on theories about sex and romance, I am happy to explain. This situation makes for not one but two affairs that are illicit. When you’re with one guy, you’re wronging the other, and ditto. Remember that old 70s song by Mary MacGregor, “Torn Between Two Lovers”? There was a line in the chorus that went, “Lovin' both of you is breakin' all the rules.” And as we know, there’s nothing more fun than breaking all the rules.

Another factor in such a scenario is our sense that “true love is never wrong.” A person can honestly feel okay about cheating if it’s done out of true love. While we’re quoting old pop songs, “If loving you is wrong, I don’t want to be right.” There’s enough justification that springs from the happiness we bring each party, that it makes the misery we inflict upon the other worthwhile.

I always reflect back on one of the coolest ongoing nocturnal fantasies I’ve ever had (it actually appears in my story “The Storytellers” in Soulful Sex: The Darker Side), which was this sort of triangle. I was simultaneously involved with the Emperor Caligula and a Roman centurion, agonizingly torn between the two. In both cases the men needed me desperately, which made me feel I simply had to stay with both at once.

The whole triangle thing is delightful on so many levels. It is, of course the heart of my more recent fantasy about Mister House and the Man in the Black Coat, which you’ll recall from my blog post about the insane complexity of my fantasies. I’ve actually picked up on that fantasy again recently. It’s just so fun watching the two men get jealous about each other. And I get to feel deliciously guilty when I’m with one and knowing I’m betraying the other. AND I get to be needed and adored by two guys at once.

Honestly, men just don’t know how to construct a proper three-way fantasy. Sex between three people is so lame by comparison to the complex, delectable thrills of being torn between two lovers.

And may I add that “Lost” (which is having the most enthralling season ever, IMHO) now has the pieces in place for an actual love square. Kate and Juliet have each had both Jack and Sawyer in love with them, so the potential here is stupendous. Throw into the mix Ben’s longstanding obsession with Juliet and...talk about love tangles, yikes!

I say, bring it on.

[Warning label for this post: The author does not in any way recommend or endorse the practice of love triangles in real life. Been there, done that, wish I hadn’t!]

Sex, Guys and Video Games, Part 2

2009-02-21T11:30:00.004-06:00

Last time, you remember, we left my husband Davie engrossed in another fun evening of playing his computer game, “The Witcher.”

I stopped in for a visit to the bedroom and observed my usual minute or two of game-playing, then asked him some typically inane questions like “Is that a wyvern?” and “Are there any cats in this game?” Davie answered me patiently as always. Then he remarked, “You know what’s interesting about this game? I’m allowed to have sex with any named character except Carmen, and I only want to have sex with Carmen.”

Typical of a guy, hey? It’s the unattainable chick that gets his interest.

Suddenly I realized that by grilling Davie with questions about the sex in this game, I could probably get a new and interesting peek into the male psyche. So I did, and I did, and here are the highlights:

Carmen, in being off-limits, is the ultimate in desirability. Carmen is the madam of the local house of prostitution. Having completed a favor for her (he got rid of some thug), all Davie has to do to hire any of the ladies is to give that girl flowers. (Imagine if Vegas operated like this. Bad for pimps, good for florists.) Just to clarify, Carmen’s pretty hot, but so are many of the other characters. There’s just something irresistible about the forbidden. And meanwhile, guys--being competitive--just love whatever they have to work at to win.

Archetypes are at play. Davie was fine with helping out Carmen--he loves doing nice things for pretty women. But he has no interest in hanging with the ho’s. It doesn’t matter what they look like in the game, it’s what they represent: and Davie has never liked obviously seductive types. He’s the kind to prefer a girl who wears an oversized tee shirt to bed over a Victoria’s Secret model. So not being into the prostitute archetype, he just says no. Now another game player who’s into dirty girls might take a different tack. It’s whatever floats your boat, in games or in real life.

But curiosity trumps all. Davie’s not into in-your-face seductresses, so he doesn’t like vampire ladies much either. However, given the opportunity to do the deed with three vampire chicks, he thought, “Heck, why not?” He just wanted to see how it would all go down. (I guess it was a bit disappointing.) In fact, curiosity was what first convinced Davie to see what sex in the game was like. His first opportunity was with a character named Triss, and Triss was hot, so he thought, why not find out what it’s like? Curiosity is a big motivator with guys in general; it’s why they are so inexplicably tormented by not knowing what everyone’s breasts in the world look like naked.

A relationship does really mean something. There is one character in the game who really does establish a romance with our alter ego/hero Geralt: Shani. She was the second character who “offered herself,” and the fact that Davie had gotten to know her, and she was nice, and she liked him, definitely increased his interest.

Being a rescuer stirs the libido. Davie also admitted that doing helpful acts for female characters works as an aphrodisiac. It wasn’t Carmen’s inaccessibility alone that drew him to her; he confessed he didn’t have an interest until after he performed that favor for the madam. That relationship also made her more real and less a “shady lady” to him. Generally speaking, having performed the “knight in shining armor” function for a girl made him more interested in making love to her.

It’s not so much conquest as accomplishment. As I explained in my previous post, in this game, when you have sex with a character, you win a character card to keep in your collection of weapons and treasures. If you install the “European patch,” these cards are actually a little graphic. Now on its face this seems uncomfortable like adding notches to one’s belt. Think about it though: How can a guy feel like he’s racking up conquests when the game is simply written this way? No, the phenomenon becomes a variation on that theme of male competitiveness: accomplishment. Kind of like merit badges in Boy Scouts.

Which is not to say looks don’t count. The motivation to win these cards really is enhanced by the hot pictures. What was interesting to hear, though, was Davie’s disappointment that they do not accurately enough resemble the characters in the game itself. I guess interacting with these 3D animated hot chicks kind of builds up a personalized yearning, and if the payoff is a little bit off, it’s disappointing. Kind of like when you Google Image search some celebrity and the thumbnail looks really good, and then it turns out the picture is actually some fan’s bad rendering of the celebrity. C’mon, that’s happened to you too, right?

So, bottom line, it’s fortunate “The Witcher” is a really good adventure game, because it fails almost utterly as porn. Which is all right with Davie and also with me.

I don’t care if there’s a cat house or not. However, I do think it needs cats.

Sex, Guys and Video Games, Part 1

2009-02-17T18:38:00.003-06:00

Seeing as my last post was a bit estrogen-fueled, I thought I’d treat you on my next two posts to thoughts from the male point-of-view. I interviewed my husband David about a topic near and dear to his heart, computer games, with a view of course to the erotic aspect of the medium. The things I found out were fascinating on two levels: first, there’s the interesting approach (or lack thereof) that the gaming industry takes to sex. Second (which I’ll talk about next time) there’s everything you learn concerning a guy’s feelings about sex from how he plays “The Witcher.”

“The Witcher,” it seems, is one of the few computer games that includes any sexual content at all. And in order to get that content to even include a tiny bit of nudity, U.S. users have to download the European patch to the game. Installing this patch enables gamers to have more graphic blood, as well as see a little T&A.

The sexually graphic content comes in the forms of the little cards you earn for sleeping with women in the game, and in the patched version, those cards show your conquests in more revealing garb and poses. The standard U.S. version depicts these women characters with “offending” features covered up.

Lest you get the misconception that this game focuses on sex, let me say right now that that’s not at all the case. “The Witcher” is a typical D&D style fantasy game where you, in the guise of heroic Geralt, go on a series of medieval quests, slaying monsters and outwitting evil forces while building up your powers and collecting tools and treasures. It’s just that in this game, en route you are permitted to have sex with the female characters if you so choose. Well, all of them but Carmen, madam of the local brothel--she’s off limits. (More on that next time.)

Not only is the sex something of an unnecessary side trip, it’s pretty lame when it happens. The “seductions” last a few seconds, you see a romantic bedside embrace, and then the game shows the same three seconds of identical gauzy footage for every encounter. I know that your average man like to get right to it, but this is too brief for my husband and I’m sure he’s not alone. Especially considering the lack of payoff.

Well, the true “prize” for having sex is getting the character card. These ladies are pretty hot, and their cards are nicely done graphics-wise. I personally wouldn’t need the European patch, but then, I’m a girl. I can understand why guys would get it, that’s for sure.

And that’s all there is. That’s all there is in one of the most graphic, sex-oriented games out there, which is of course rated M. I’m really amazed that with the technology we have at our fingers nowadays, no companies are producing hotter stuff than this. Heck, you’d think somebody would develop a Sims-style brothel game where you can design your own “companions”! (I am highly suspicious that this is what a lot of guys who own 3D-people-creation software, like DAZ, use the programs for.)

But then I thought about it. You know, you can only sell what you can get to market. That is, if someone designs a product but no one is willing to produce it, what’s the point? With all the flack the gaming industry has gotten over leading little boys to acts of violence, they have a reputation to protect, and most gaming companies wouldn’t touch such a project. Davie told me there was a huge uproar when a mod for graphic sex with a prostitute was available in one of the Grand Theft Auto games. It wasn’t a legitimate part of the game, but the files were available for unlocking by clever hackers, so that got the game manufacturer in lots of hot water.

Anyway, if someone did publish “Sims Have Sex,” who would sell it? Certainly not Best Buy or Target or the Game Spot at your local mall. Not even comic books stores would want to, knowing moms from the neighborhood would picket their shops immediately.

Besides, this is what the porn industry is for. The gaming industry is for gaming.

When David started playing “The Witcher,” he had no plan to take the little “sex side trips.” He plays these games for the fun of doing heroic deeds, crushing huge monsters, and becoming a demi-godlike creature. It was only out of curiosity that he tried it, and then decided to repeat the scenario with other characters in sort of a “collect-’em-all” spirit. Really, the inclusion of the sex feature was not at all a selling point for him.

So I guess this all goes to explain why computer games have so little sexual content. And I’m not saying they should, I’m just intrigued by the phenomenon. After all, here you have a phenomenon fueled by testosterone, produced nearly completely by males for males, and there’s virtually no graphic sex to be found.

Things that make you go “huh.”

Well, in my next post things get even more interesting as we delve into the psyche of Davie, as revealed by his exploits playing “The Witcher”!

An Online Tool for Getting in a Romantic Mood

2009-02-13T12:32:00.004-06:00

Well, I thought I’d just be topical, and post something relevant to a certain holiday that’s coming right up. Whether or not you and your significant other observe Valentine’s Day (and it may amuse you to know that yours truly, Ms. Erotica-with-Soul, actually doesn’t), being romantic is never a bad thing.

Whether you need some more spice in the bedroom, or are simply sick of winter and need a pick-me-up, romantic thoughts can help. And this week I was introduced to a very nice resource for all things romantic, a website called http://www.romantic-ideas-online.com/. The proprietress, one Sara McGoodwin, just started this site and already has done a great job with it. I realize romantic tastes vary, but if you are partial to a sweet, colorful, Victorian look (and I dig that), just being on the site will romanticize your mood.

(For proof of the similarities in taste between Ms. McGoodwin and myself, just take note that she uses the same painting of Psyche and Eros on her home page as I put on the cover of Soulful Sex Volume I!)

So for starters, Romantic-Ideas-Online will serve as a romantic mood enhancer, providing art, poems, stories and song lyrics following the theme. You can just poke around the site and find yourself reminded of your own romantic touchstones. (Sara and I both love the song “Goodnight My Someone” from “The Music Man.”) To ensure a steady supply of this kind of goodies, the site suggests you subscribe to a newsletter that shares Sara’s original romantic vignettes.

It also gets practical. There are romantic gift ideas A-Z, and they’re not just for Valentine’s Day. In fact, the site provides a list of occasions to give such gifts. There are tips for keeping love alive and improving relationships, ideas for romantic dates, etc. And no romance website would be complete without recommendations for good romantic reading, which abound on Sara’s pages. (Am I listed? Well, yes . LOL)

What I like about Sara is she gets pretty creative with the subject matter. I found instructions on how to make a “Love Slave Jar” (doesn’t that sound like fun?). Sara also created several sets of downloadable, printable romantic coupons (exchangeable for things like “sexual fantasy” and “get out of the doghouse free”) that would make great easy and nice gifts, and she did a lovely job designing them. The site includes a genuine potpourri of musings both reproduced and original about the wonders of love.

Calling herself a “romantic glutton,” Ms. McGoodwin has made it her mission to use her website to help visitors “turn up the volume on your own True Romantic Adventure.” It would seem she’s walking the walk as well as talking the talk, and I hope she’ll continue to build and enhance the site.

What better time to visit such a place than February, huh?

[P.S., this post was pretty estrogen-heavy; next time I write you’ll be hearing more from the male angle!]

PSA: Naked Pictures

2009-02-10T19:08:00.002-06:00

Yes, I’m here today to provide a public service announcement.

Recently here in southeastern Wisconsin, we were shocked to learn a local high school boy had been using Facebook to trap other kids into unwanted sex. Posing as a female, this guy solicited nude photos from at least 31 boys, and then used the photos as blackmail to get them to perform sex acts with him.

Obviously the media and local residents were horrified by this report, and I certainly don’t mean to make light of it in any way. But the reporting and reactions seemed to me to leave out one important concept that might have spared these victims a lot of grief. I’ll put it succinctly:

If a female on the Internet shows interest in naked pictures of you, you can be 99% sure that she is a he.

News flash, young gentlemen: Females, especially girls, are not interested in seeing you naked. The typical female likes bare chests, and some might enjoy a nude bottom, but as for your genitalia, no. A genuine high school girl would much rather have you send her a poem you wrote, an mp3 of your favorite song, or a soul-baring paragraph about your hopes and dreams, than a photo of you (or even a Jonas brother) in the nude.

In fact, I dare say this could be a nifty litmus test for finding out of your “mystery correspondent” is masquerading as a female. Turn away from the hot photos of “herself” that this person has posted, and take a hard look at “her” behavior. It’s guys who are turned on by nude pictures. And while certainly some older women may enjoy “cybersex” and talking about the act, only a small percentage of girls are comfortable with it. A real girl is more interested in emotional intimacy; even a kiss to her is as much about a pledge of closeness than about physical pleasure.

While we’re on the subject, those of you who are teens and found this post because you were looking for advice on the topic: This is as good a time as any to learn that there is a huge difference between the sexes in how they respond to visual stimulation. Guys, it's probably true that you never meet a new girl without checking out her breasts--but be aware that girls are probably not checking out your package. Ever. And while naked pics of chicks are worth the world to you, most of your female friends care a lot more about Robert Pattinson’s hair and eyes than anything beneath his clothes. (Think about it: tween and teen girls only get excited about his bare skin because it sparkles--in other words, it’s magical.)

People are just made this way, and if you realize it and keep it in mind, it will help you a lot in your relationships with members of the opposite sex. And that goes both ways, girls; don’t be dismayed at how your boyfriends and male friends behave concerning nudity, they really can’t help it. It doesn’t mean they don’t care about what’s inside a girl, it’s just that the outside drives them a little wild.

I have to think if the high school boys in the New Berlin, Wis. area had been aware of these useful facts, fewer than 31 of them would have fallen prey to this Facebook scheme. I know mine isn’t the most read blog on the Web, but I hope a couple people out there will benefit from this post.

Musings on Sex Appeal

2009-02-04T19:34:00.006-06:00

Who doesn't want to be sexy? Well, who over the age of 12, that is? I think even elderly people want to remain somehow attractive to the opposite sex. If you consider 52 elderly, I can personally vouch for it. I recognize (sadly) that the tools one can employ in the pursuit of sexiness become more and more limited as one ages. Bare midriff tops are no longer in my arsenal. Nevertheless, I still pursue sexiness in an age-appropriate sort of way.

Yesterday I read another interesting WikiHow article, this time on "How to Be Hot." The tips were good ones, from how to dress to how to think. The article closed with the advice that if you, for whatever reason, can't do "hot," there's no shame in going for other forms of attractiveness, like cute or distinguished. Again, the key is feeling that you are appealing to other humans, that they will be motivated to want to be around you.

Meanwhile, yesterday was an interesting one for my family, as my older daughter was in a competition to be selected as one of twenty local singles for an upcoming feature in the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel. (She made it, by the way!) Katie's photo and some personal remarks were included. I figured her remarks were friendly and charming, and her photo would be the clincher. Sure enough, the top vote-getting girls all were pretty and approachable.

Well, it so happens one of the top vote-getting guys was a fellow named John, age 71. I'm sure a lot of ladies, myself included, were tickled that this guy entered the competition at all. What a go-getter. Granted, our votes didn't exactly mean we'd date him, but we'd certainly go out for beers with him. And at 71, that's endorsement enough! So John beat out some hot 20-somethings, and more power to him.

Second meanwhile: Yesterday I discovered Crest was promoting its White Strips product by creating a site where you can experience "virtual 3D kisses" from your choice of male or female. (Visit http://kissmein3d.com/.) I have to give kudos to Crest, both the guy and the girl did it for me! LOL Seriously though, I was amazed how the flirtatious moves of "Fernando," directed right at me from the screen, set my heart a-flutter. His kisses (there are six different ones) are really a little mini-seminar in how to spark a woman's libido. (Please excuse the 3D effects in the screen cap below.)

Well, I'm not going to turn this post into my own tips for being sexy...that ground has been covered well enough by others with more expertise than I. The point is, the whole issue is not going to go away and is a part of life. Those of us who can't compete on the level of Hollywood celebrities, due to genetics, age, or both, are not exempt. And rather than bash our heads into the wall, or rather, mirror, we need to remember that anyone can do things to encourage others to want to be near them. It's amazing how "alluring" things like kind words, thoughtful attire, humor, little gifts of food or homemade crafts, smiles, welcoming body language, empathy, camaraderie, or a well-timed hug can be.

Those things are not "sexy" in the classic sense, but they bring people closer together nonetheless. Close = good in my book.

Soulful Sex: The Darker Side

2009-02-04T19:29:00.005-06:00

I just realized I really ought to mention here on my blog that last week I released my latest book. It's called Soulful Sex: The Darker Side and the stories in it examine just that. Here's the rundown of the twelve tales:

"Storytellers" - Maggie, whose sex drive has been at a low ebb in spite of her respectable marriage, has a midnight encounter with the secret lover who is her heart's desire. Only this time he's not a dream...he's flesh and blood.
"The Poet" - History's first "superstar" poet, the reclusive Riley Madsen, finally grants four interviews, including one with celebrity blogger Miri Horace. But her private tryst with her idol turns out rather shockingly.
"The Experiment" - When Jay and Stephanie signed up for the experiment, they guessed what it would come to. A lab like a martini lounge, two cups of strange liquid, and some very interesting instructions prove they were right.
"Piero and Gilia" - Piero Montague and Gilia Capulet, cousins to Romeo and Juliet, have their own struggles with forbidden romance. Will the lesson of their cousins' fates make any difference in this star-crossed couple's choices?
"Don't" - Sometimes a guy can be really black hearted, but so sexy he gets away with it anyway. Sometimes the fact that he's black hearted just makes him sexier.
"Stalkers for Hire" - Recently divorced Amber is invited to avail herself of the services of a peculiar business called "Attentives, Inc." She's not about to shell out the money...until she sees Cameron in the company's catalog.
"The Will of a Slave" - Queen Parra she falls hard for Loenid, captured in war to serve in her harem. But he values marital fidelity more than his life, and Parra has no idea how to achieve what she truly wants: Loenid's love.
"Nate and Erica Write a Sex Scene" - Nate writes science fiction, Erica writes romance. The exercise of collaborating on a sexy story opens some interesting doors...some of which have been locked ever since they met.
"Summer's Fantasy" - Aimee Connelly befriends a beautiful, charming artist named Summer. Summer's obvious infatuation with Aimee causes mixed emotions...but among those emotions is unexpected desire.
"Professor Chambliss" - Lydia develops an irresistible crush on her Psychology of Marketing professor. The irascibly sexy Dr. Chambliss is enough of a pain by nature; then Lydia finds out he suspects her feelings.
"Women Love Vampires" - Lacey meets Seth in a bar, and his vampiric personal style prompts an interesting conversation. Lacey finds herself surprisingly eager to explain—and demonstrate—why women love vampires.
"'Kiss Me' and Other Commands" - High school grad Bix Buxton pines for classmate Sara, until the internet grants him the amazing ability to command women. Bix's ethics are subsequently put to some interesting tests.

Intrigued? Well, the book is available from the publisher as well as Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and other online retailers. For all the info on how to get a copy, visit my website page.

Meanwhile I did promise an update for when you could purchase the print version of the Sign of the Bloodletters comic book. (Which, by the way, came back from the printers just gorgeous.) Visit www.dianalaurence.com/sotb.html for links to purchase it from the publisher, Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

Why Engineers are Sexy

2009-01-28T19:26:00.004-06:00

I've blogged before about the appeal of science geeks, for example this post about the guys on "Mythbusters" or this one about the guys on "The Big Bang Theory." But today I want to focus specifically on engineers. There is scientific, verifiable proof that they are hot.

My first experience falling for the engineer archetype occurred back in high school. A classmate of mine named Greg used to regale me with tales of his inventions. He came up with the mathematical concept of "upsilon," which was one divided by zero. You could do all kinds of fun things with math by employing this impossible number. It was really quite like magic. Greg also invented (on paper at least) the self-harvesting potato. I know you'd love to hear the details (chah, right) but suffice it to say, I was a sucker for this cute guy who could draw diagrams of complex apparatuses (apparati?) and tell me the astounding things he could achieve through science. We both knew he was kidding but that only made it sexier.

I mean, if a funny guy is hot, then it follows that a funny, smart guy is deadly. And the thing about engineers is, they employ a lovely mix of competence (always attractive to women) and mystery (because who can follow what they're saying?). Therefore a funny engineer is nearly irresistible.

Take, for example, this little anecdote from my day job. By day I blog about engineering, and in that capacity I came upon an engineer named Todd who keeps a blog called "An Engineering Mind." Todd makes funny videos on engineering topics...like this one:

Todd cracks me up. Sure, he's making all this stuff up, but the point is, he can talk about engineering stuff in a manner convincing enough that you can tell he's smart. Smart and funny and competent, how's a girl to resist?

Another case in point: Last week the awesome show "Lost" returned to the airwaves, and it would seem this season will be giving prominence to Daniel Faraday, the island's resident engineer. Daniel is, I guess, a Time Engineer. His specialty is the space/time continuum. He alone has a clue as to why the island keeps leaping forward and back in time, he alone can advise the Losties how to cope. Well, clearly he's a wizard; Sawyer even nicknamed him Dr. Wizard...er...Mr. Wizard. Women love wizards, from Harry Potter to Gandalf, and when they're as cute as Daniel, we're goners. All the females in my family are ga-ga for this guy and I suspect he will rival Ben Linus for Lost Heartthrob of the Season.

So many hot engineers to choose from....There are mechanical engineers, like the Mythbusters, who can build robots and Rube Goldberg machines. And nuclear engineers, who can boast that whichever of them discovers cold fusion will pretty much change the planet. There are agricultural engineers who, like my friend Greg, may develop the self-harvesting potato. And astronautical engineers like Howard on TBBT, who do cool things like drive the Mars rover. There are electrical engineers who invent stuff like the iPod. And geological engineers who can predict quakes and eruptions like Pierce Brosnan's sexy character in "Dante's Peak."

What they all have in common is special, arcane knowledge that makes them seem magical. Never mind how they dress, their muscular development or lack thereof, their strange quirks. They are dead sexy, admit it.

Watch Todd and see if he doesn't seem a bit more attractive than his face alone would suggest.

And see if Daniel on "Lost" doesn't become a big hit in the weeks to come.

You read it here first. It's engineers.

Last Night I Hit That...

2009-01-20T19:58:00.003-06:00

One of my favorite lines from a TV show last year occurred on "House MD." The long-awaited kiss between Drs. House and Cuddy finally occurred, and was actually rather romantic. However, the next day at the hospital, House downplayed the event by tipping his head toward Cuddy and telling his team, "Last night I hit that and now she's all up in my jock."

I can't tell you why I found this so hilarious, except that it was completely unexpected, and well, I always find House hilarious. Meanwhile, however, the irony is that in general I find this attitude toward sex pretty annoying.

Don't get me wrong, I'm no prude. While I've never indulged in a one-night stand, I've had a couple short flings and am certainly capable of being shallow about sex from time to time. I also understand the human insecurities that prompt us to downplay our romantic encounters out of a desire to protect our egos (which clearly was House's motivation, and made it therefore forgivable). But what does irk me is when the objectification of the sex partner becomes a regular and chronic practice, when every lover is referred to with an impersonal pronoun, as in "I hit that."

Casual sex is the oldest act in the world. I have no reason to believe it's any more prevalent now than in any other age. However, the words our society uses to describe sexual activities currently don't exactly thrill me. "I hit that" is funny in contexts like the one on "House," but when it honestly expresses the sentiment that the sex partner was no more than a toy with flesh, it's actually pretty sad.

And while I'm not one to criticize the vernacular generally, I'm not a big fan of "hooked up" either. I'm not sure why exactly...I guess it just sounds so mechanical, and well, almost boring. "Hooked up" conjures up this picture of two people saying to each other, "Well, I'm here, you're here, we're horny, why not?" There's no seduction--heck, it doesn't even sound like there's much fun involved!

"Getting it on" at least sounds energetic. "Making out" sounds goal-oriented and like you are happy about succeeding. "Pitching woo" and "making whoopee" are cute and silly, which is still an improvement. "Hooking up" just sounds so intentionally temporary, so unmotivated, so dull. Even when a friend exclaims excitedly "You mean you guys actually hooked up?" the excitement is ironic. You might as well be jumping up and down as you say, "You guys ran into each other at the mall?" or "You guys ended up on the same elevator?"

I understand that words are just words, and the affect behind what is being said is what matters. But I can't help but wonder why this kind of phraseology prevails at the moment. Is everyone so highly motivated to make sure the significance of any sexual encounter is downplayed? Is that because we really don't take sex seriously, or because we do, and therefore we are terrified other people will find out it matters to us?

It was pretty plain on that episode of "House" that the doctor did care about having kissed Cuddy, so much so that he made a point of belittling the encounter at his earliest possible opportunity. And I suspect that's the most common reason for the nonchalance of our current sexual terminology.

Heaven forbid we should call it "making love," hey? :-)

How to Get Over a Crush

2009-01-15T19:36:00.003-06:00

I’m a big fan of wikiHow, and this morning one of the “how-to” topics offered by this great site was “How to Stop Having an Inappropriate Crush.” Some of the advice in this posting was quite helpful, don’t get me wrong. But I have a feeling that a lot of people hoping to get help from this wikiHow will be disappointed.

The main premise of the article was “Having a crush on someone is not the problem. The real issue is your own restraint and self-control.” In my experience, most people are okay with exercising restraint when they are obsessed with the wrong person. Most times it’s painfully obvious there’s no way you can act on your feelings. You can’t hit on your married boss, you can’t ask out Robert Pattinson. You don’t need someone to tell you, like in this article, to focus on all the reasons why your crush is hopeless. Usually that’s painfully obvious.

I suspect people googling “how to get over a crush” are most interested in making the feelings go away. Unfortunately, the article only addressed the issue this way: “If you’ve tried to fight it, all to no avail, and you still find yourself sighing over him/her, then make it right.” Well, there’s usually no way to “make it right”—your boss is happily married, and Robert Pattinson is not going to go out with you.

As a person who has experienced four decades of inappropriate crushes, I can only speak from my own personal experience and share what has helped me. So here goes:

1. Don’t make yourself feel worse by beating yourself up. Having a crush is not a sin, it’s just feelings, and people can’t help their feelings. Infatuations are a natural part of being human, and no one is exempt. If you’re crushing on the next door neighbor in spite of your being happily married, don’t interpret it as a sign your marriage is failing. As the saying goes, you are married, not dead. You will still respond emotionally to attractiveness in other males, and that says nothing about the strength of your marriage.

2. Try to keep in mind that you are probably not really in love with a real person, but rather you are in love with what him/her represents to you. This is especially the case with celebrity crushes, but usually just as true with other infatuations. As you read this, you may be balking at the idea, but that’s because you don’t want to let go of the hope that this “awesome person” is really as awesome as they seem to you. But read on as to why what I’m telling you is actually good news.

3. Work on disassociating the idea of the person you adore from the flesh-and-blood individual. Think about this: have you ever really loved a character in a book? Thought about actually being with that person? Wasn’t it fun to imagine, even though you knew full well that wonderful character was just “pretend”? Well, your fantasies about your crush are like that. If you find it hard not to fantasize about the person, work on being happy just enjoying pretending about them. And remember, in real life, being with the person would doubtless not be as wonderful as your fantasies, in which you can imagine him/her as perfect for you.

4. Rejoice that the pretend version of your crush truly does belong to you. As my regular blog readers know, I’m a believer in the theories of psychoanalyst Carl Jung (and I wrote a book about this stuff called Living Beyond Reality). Jungian psychology teaches that each of us has an opposite sex aspect to our personality buried in the unconscious, called the animus/anima. The only way we interact with that “person,” that lost part of our psyche, is by projecting it on others. If the object of your infatuation seems perfect for you, that’s because you’re projecting your animus/anima upon him/her, seeing those qualities your soul most longs for, your very heart’s desire. No wonder it’s so wrong, but feels so right! Well, it takes lots of practice, but you can learn to recognize that the person you feel you adore is not actually Robert Pattinson, but this inner male ideal that is, in a real sense, your soul mate. He’s already yours, always has been, always will be. He is an autonomous part of yourself, you and yet not you.

I realize #4 is a very new concept to most people, but believe me, if you can get your mind around it, nothing works better for dealing with inappropriate crushes. If you find the idea just too far out there, then go back to #3, which is just another version of #4. The point is to diminish the pain of your crush by feeling like you have control. Rather than pining for someone you can’t have, you take the whole thing into the realm of imagination, where all the control belongs to you.

If you still don’t like the idea of letting go of “the real person,” I suggest you take a cold, hard look at the real person and try to find his/her flaws. Because I guarantee you, there are things about that guy or girl that would disappoint you if you really had to live with him or her. Apply yourself conscientiously to this exercise and you’ll figure out that your pretend version of the person is actually more fun “to be with,” even if you have to sacrifice the benefits of real flesh-and-blood.

Here’s one bonus tip for you: If you feel any interest going on in your mind towards a less problematic individual, then try to redirect your attention there. It’s the basic principle that “the universe abhors a vacuum”...it’s hard to replace a crush with nothing, but substituting a different crush can work. So, for example, if you’re pining for Robert Pattinson, see if you can’t obsess instead on the character of Edward Cullen as you personally dream him to be.

Dealing with a troublesome crush is never easy! But there are things you can do to help yourself. Good luck!

ADDENDUM 8/31/09: As you can see by the abundance of comments to this post, a lot of people have come to me with specific advice for their problems. Before you post asking for my help, I want to remind you that I'm just an author, and this post was meant to share some concepts that have been helpful to me and may be helpful to you. If you are truly tormented by an infatuation you can't shake, PLEASE SEE A PROFESSIONAL. I feel for you, but I'm severely limited in my ability to help...this is just a blog, and I'm just a fellow human wanting to present some tips that might work for you.

Are You in Love with the Dark?

2009-01-09T22:27:00.005-06:00

Apparently I am, and I wonder if there are some kindred spirits out there.

By “in love with the dark” I don’t mean caves and closets. I mean the mysterious, the sinister, the creepy, the dangerous. (All you “Twilight” fans can count yourself in, by the way.)

I think it all started when I was in high school, and I fell for this guy named Mark. It was the first time I was interested in a boy not because he was cute, but because he was mysterious. My adolescent mind decided Mark was an Enigma, yes, with a capital E. This conclusion was due almost exclusively to one paradox I had observed about him: although he was a member of the Brains clique (today known as Geeks), he wore his hair shoulder length like a Freak.

Brains were generally pro-Establishment, conservative types and wore their hair short. Freaks skipped school, did drugs, drank, and listened to music like “Brain Salad Surgery” and Frank Zappa. Mark aced his tests, did volunteer work, and was polite. But the hair...what was the meaning then of the hair? He had to have some secret counter-culture attitude, some rebellious streak. He had to have a Dark Side.

I wrote a poem about my feelings for him, called “Dark to My Light.” In it I spoke of my own ever-cheerful, sunny persona and my longing for the darkness Mark represented. I’m quite certain there are a lot of us who feel our families, co-workers, and society in general depend upon us to be positive sorts. Meanwhile, we feel a great lack of the negative in our inner lives. So we are drawn to sinister characters, horror movies, macabre stories. We have fantasies that are dark and sometimes quite twisted.

The dark is much on my mind lately. My latest story collection, Soulful Sex: The Darker Side is about to go to press. And I am finishing up editing a very dark romance novel called (do you sense a theme here?) Looking on Darkness. To make matters worse, I am reading Neil Gaiman’s The Graveyard Book. Meanwhile, I find my nocturnal fantasies seem to be set in the most ominous locales, like, for example, Hell.

I’m sure anyone who knew me personally would tell you, I’m the last person you’d expect to fantasize about Hell. But fact is, the people who seem all sunny and upbeat are generally the ones whose secret thoughts are dark like this.

I’ve had this thought concerning Mr. Gaiman many times. His public persona is just so darn, well, cuddly. He seems for all the world like the kindliest English gentleman you’d ever want to meet. He loves children and cats. I’ve not read one report of him being rude or mean. And yet, the places this man’s mind travels are terrifying at times. In a sense you could rightly say that Death whispers in his ear: indeed, Death is his muse. Death of course, having been personified in The Sandman comics Neil wrote, personified as a very sweet, funny, attractive young goth girl (before goth was a craze).

I recently found this awesome illustration which currently serves as my wallpaper. (Sadly, I renamed the file and can’t find the original source, so if it was you or if you know, please tell me so I can give proper credit here!!) It’s the character Death, playing her muse role for Neil Gaiman. Brilliant.

And if you could see an artistic rendering of myself writing, there would be this dark fellow standing behind me, murmuring in my ear. He would look a bit like Neil, a bit like Mark, a bit like Jonas Tammany from my comic book. He would look a bit like every dark male character who has inspired my imagination over the years, including the various fellows in The Darker Side and Looking on Darkness, and Bloodchained.

Can’t help it...I’m just in love with the dark.

OMG I've Written a Comic Book!

2009-01-04T18:48:00.003-06:00

This is another one of those events in my life that is HUGE to me and I'm sure makes other people just stare at their monitors, puzzled. But yes, I am beyond beyond thrilled today that this miracle has actually happened. I have written a real comic book. And this glorious thing occurred due to the amazing talents and hard work of my beloved illustrator, CC Rogers.

It is not long (12 pages), but it is a real story. I had to write a real comic book script. And CC pulled off what IMHO is a beautiful, sexy, suspenseful, fascinating series of illustrations. I think the thing truly justifies its existence. But you read it (in the nifty viewer provided by Issuu.com) and please let me know what you think.

I'm not gonna lie, I'm officially in love with Jonas Tammany. He's WAY hotter than Mr. Opportunity ever was. I'll bet Erin Esurance herself would lust for this guy.

Click here to read in full size viewer

Oh, and in two to three weeks the book will be available for purchase from Living Beyond Reality Press. Will let you know!

Feeling Artistic

2008-12-28T21:32:00.016-06:00

Today I felt like doing some portraiture...it's been awhile since I did anything. I figured seeing as the Year of Neil Gaiman is coming to an end in only a few days (well, I didn't discover him till last March, but you know what I mean), it's high time I indulged myself in some Neil fan art.

So here's my interpretation of the Prince of Stories. (I got the book by that name for Christmas; what a fine moniker for the man.)

Glenn, Then and Now

2008-12-19T11:03:00.009-06:00

Well, I've certainly had tenors on the brain lately. It's the time of year, I think. I listen to a lot of classical Christmas music that reminds me of my high school choir days, and those days always remind me of how much music had to do with my romantic life. (Some things never change, obviously. My Jason Danieley thing should not have surprised anyone who knows me.)

Well, I recently happened to catch on the radio Vaughn William's Fantasia on Christmas Carols. When I was a senior in high school, my choir performed this beautiful piece at our Christmas concert, and the solo part was taken by my classmate Glenn Siebert. To this day I can still play in my head his voice singing it. This boy's voice was heaven. When Josh Groban hit the scene, I immediately noticed how similar his voice was to Glenn Siebert's.

Going through three years in vocal music with Glenn around was no small treat, believe me. I got to see him as Tony in "West Side Story," as Curly in "Oklahoma!" and I actually shared the stage with him (in the chorus) as Prince Karl Franz in "The Student Prince." My head will also still play his voice singing "Deep in My Heart, Dear." Sigh...

Reading this, you may have figured I had a mad crush on this guy back in the day. Well, I didn't. I was just not the self-flagellating type. Glenn was a prom court kind of guy, staggeringly cute (70's style, which still works for me), and clearly with that voice and decent acting skills was a total chick magnet. I was not in his league. I did not allow myself one daydream about this guy, knowing that could clearly only end in tears.

So here he is, in a promo shot for "The Student Prince," in 1974:

Nevertheless, all my life Glenn Siebert defined tenors for me, which is undoubtedly why no guys on the Sirius XM Broadway Channel thrilled me until Jason came along. I was just too spoiled in high school. And I'm sure having a guy like that in the neighborhood only helped foster my conviction that being a talented tenor is just one of the most romantic, sexy things a man can do.

So what became of Glenn Siebert? Well, here he is today:

See, I wasn't making this up or exaggerating! Just read his bio and have your mind blown. He's sung solos with pretty much every orchestra in the country (the New York Philharmonic, the Cleveland Orchestra, the Boston Pops et al.), and performed the lead in dozens of operas in the U.S. and overseas. He also teaches at the North Carolina School of the Arts in Winston-Salem, and is director of the Magnolia Baroque Festival. He's not a household word like Pavarotti, but it's pretty clear to me he's among America's most talented operatic tenors. If you'd like to hear him sing, go HERE for samples (I'd recommend the third track there).

It does my heart good--yes, that heart which didn't dare fall for Glenn back in my high school days--that to this day that voice is being enjoyed by thousands of people. Seems like a very, very happy ending to a little "love story" that never took place.

Ah, Kisses...

2008-12-16T19:59:00.011-06:00

Today I reflect upon the kiss.

The fact that this physical gesture is virtually universal in human culture tells you there's definitely something to it. But really, isn't the kiss interesting?

Kissing is so commonplace that we never stop to think how strange a gesture it really is. I mean, hugs make pretty much sense, they're really quite simple: it's nice to be close to someone, to embrace them as a symbol of that emotional closeness, and to literally feel it in the pressure of another body, the crush of other arms. But kisses are another story. Why the press of the lips on another person's skin? And why are the usual targets other lips, or cheeks, foreheads, hands?

Well, I'm sure entire books have been written on this subject by psychologists, sociologists, and anthropologists much wiser than I. But as a self-proclaimed expert (emphasis on the adjective, LOL) on the erotic, I'd like to address myself just to the erotic kiss. You know, that wonderful smackeroo the hero lays on the heroine as the music swells. You know, the unbelievably sublime experience with your latest crush that your subconscious mind is imagining right now.

I don't know if it's due to being born in 1956, or if today's generation feels at all the same, but I grew up believing the ultimate confirmation of the desired one's mutual attraction was the kiss. In every musical, romantic comedy, and Disney movie, that kiss was the goal, the dream, the payoff. If the Prince kissed you, then you were going to live happily ever after. Or at the very least, enjoy the following several hours in the extreme.

I found myself at an early age, and to this day, coveting lips. Oh, there are a lot of features I can enjoy in a guy's face: long-lashed brown eyes, sparkling blue ones, an unusually-shaped and intriguing nose, or just a perfect one, cheekbones, well-arched brows, a nice beard. But when it comes down to the nitty-gritty, as it were, my gaze will be on his mouth.

So, why the mouth? I suppose biologists will tell you there are a lot of nerve endings in the lips--this is an erogenous zone that enjoys stimulation. True, I'm sure. But something deep down tells me there's more to it than that, and I think it has to do with what else the mouth does. It eats. It tastes. It consumes. It takes sustenance. This is why sexual desire is often called a hunger. It is a hunger: hunger for another person. Oh, I suppose it can be, and often is, hunger merely for stimulation, or for the opposite sex in general. But I think more often, particularly for women, it's hunger for a specific individual.

I think you know what I mean. The target fellow is wonderful: you admire him, rejoice in who he is, long to fill yourself somehow with that loveliness you see in him. You're hungry for him. And you wish, wish, wish he felt the same hunger for you.

Now, a quick intermission before I continue, during which you may enjoy this little portrait I did awhile back, called "The Shadow Kiss."

The kiss, then, is the expression of that hunger, the communication of that longing, and because it is oral, kissing is a kind of feeding. When you offer your lips to be kissed, are you not very nearly saying, "please feed me" and, simultaneously, "please feast on me"? When you kiss the beloved, you do more than say to yourself, "this feels good"...you also think about the man behind the lips, about his essence, and the glory of being so close to him, of feeding on him, on this particular man. And as he kisses you, don't you delight in what you perceive to be his hunger for you, his eagerness for intimacy, his excitement at being so close to you?

This understanding of the function of kissing may be why so many women prefer it, or at least feel it's more important, than sex. Sex is so thrilling in a purely physical way, it's possible (especially for guys) to want it and do it just for the sensation. But kissing, which is less physically stimulating, seems to me to be more emotionally and spiritually exciting. When I daydream about my latest celebrity crush, I rarely or never (depending on the fascination level) think about intercourse. But kissing? That's where my imagination has a field day.

Because if, for example, Ben Linus from "Lost" were to kiss me, that would mean he desired me, and how thrilling is that? (I can hear a lot of you readers breathing heavily at this idea, you know.)

And if I am currently obsessing over some archetypal guy dressed up as a famous person (to make the distinction--after all, that guy we dream about isn't the real Hugh Laurie or Jon Hamm), that means I'm really into what he represents to me. And so, I want to be near it, to eat it up as it were, to feel it filling my belly and nourishing me. That's why I like to think about kissing him.

What interesting creatures we humans be, confusing one hunger with another, one physical act with another. But from a romance writer's perspective, it's one of the countless things that make sex and romance so fascinating.

A Christmas Angel Named Harry

2008-12-13T14:33:00.007-06:00

Some experiences you just know are going to be blog-worthy.

Last night Davie and I went to see Harry Connick, Jr. and his band at Milwaukee's Riverside Theater. People, a man this wonderful simply has to make an appearance on Erotic with Soul.

It's certainly not news to you that he is one of the great musical minds of his generation. His musical arranging and composing talents are staggering. And you'd have to have spent the last fifteen years living in a cave to not know how wonderfully Harry can sing and play piano. He's a fine actor as well...and the face, the face is divine. He ain't a bad dancer either, as we learned last night.

But as impressed as I am by all these things, I'm wild about Harry for another reason altogether: his heart. It's something of a miracle to be able to give a room of 2,500 people the feeling of being entertained in your living room, but this he managed from the very start of the show. The Riverside is one of the few venues Harry has played that has no curtain, he told us, so before the start, he looked out at the crowd. He said he found us beautiful, and his heart swelled to think that in spite of the economy we would spend our dollars to see him and his band. These words were spoken with such sincerity, you believed him--and marvelled that he would think for a minute the $40 ticket price (for the balcony anyway) wasn't worth what he was going to give us! But this is a guy who, despite his success and popularity, still treasures every member of his audience.

There was an older woman in the front row, "Fritzi Sue," whom Harry adopted as his pet for the show. She was beautifully dressed and obviously a doll...and in reward for her love of Harry, got to kiss him and come up on stage and dance with him a bit. He told her "You're beautiful," to which she responded, "If you like 'em old!" Harry's reply: "What about you is old, Fritzi Sue? You live life--it's wonderful, you live life."

The band returned for an encore, and as they retook their seats, Harry started to tell an anecdote about the second time he met Frank Sinatra. He was a minute or two into this story--and on top of everything else, Harry is an amazing storyteller--when he said, "Right after this we'll play some New Orleans music and then we'll be done, so do you have a minute?", seriously as if he wanted to be sure we could spare the time to listen to him.

It's amazing enough to meet a man this talented, charming and handsome, and not have him possess an ego the size of the bayou. But that this fellow should be one of the most tenderhearted, people-loving, genuine, generous-spirited guys you could meet...well, that's a Christmas miracle.

God love ya, Harry! Thanks for a glorious show, and for being such an inspiration.

Writing About Voices

2008-12-10T21:24:00.006-06:00

Just a short post today but I have to share.

I don't know about you, but I find a man's voice can be as seductive as his face. More than once in my fiction writing, I've tried to write about this phenomenon...but it's so much harder to describe a voice than a face. I mean, how many times can you write "velvet baritone" before you feel like a complete idiot?

Tonight I discovered someone who knows how to describe a voice. I am just amazed by this man's talent in this regard. You know how wine connaisseurs manage to come up with the words for all those subtle wine flavors? Well, Octavio Roca of the San Francisco Chronicle knows how to do it with voices, apparently.

Having been transported to somewhere beyond Cloud Nine (I lost count at Cloud Seventeen) by listening to Jason Danieley sing "Make Our Garden Grow" from "Candide," I thought I'd do a quick search to see how the performance was judged critically. (By the way, if you want to hear a sample, you can on Jason's Audio Page.) Mr. Roca reviewed a concert performance of the show in July of 2002. He described Jason's voice thus:

"easy and vibrant throughout the range, with a thrilling bloom at the top and honeyed baritonal colors that add the illusion of heft."

Why can't I write like this? Okay, yeah, at first that sentence may strike you as overblown, but that's only because in regular life people don't describe voices. Let me tell you, Mr. Roca captured just what I love about Jason's voice but couldn't describe so succinctly and well. My words, in attempting to say the same thing, would have gone something like this: "Well, his voice is so even and strong no matter where he is in the register...but when he hits the high crescendo notes, it's like you were just assumed into heaven. And there's just this sweetness you can't describe. And the most amazing thing: even though he's a tenor, and usually singing fairly high, his voice has this substance to it, this masculinity, that is completely unique."

Diana, that quality is "the illusion of heft." Yes, exactly, thank you, Octavio.

By the way, for those who care (and I honestly don't expect you to be concerned about Diana Laurence's Lunatic Phase of the Month), I am currently suffering from this weird disappointment over every male singer not being Jason Danieley. Today it even happened with a version of "O Holy Night" by Luciano Pavarotti, God rest his soul. I mean, come on...Pavarotti? But I can't help it. It's the heft, I think.

This Folder of Photos is Not What You Think

2008-12-07T19:16:00.008-06:00

Hey, it's my 200th post! That's a lot of essays about sex. :-)

The other day I happened to gank from the internet a passleful of photos of a certain animus-bearer of mine, who to save me from embarrassment I shall leave nameless. Okay, okay, I just have to post this one, because wow, it's such a glamour shot of a normally unkempt fellow...check it out!

So, yes, I admit I have a folder of photos that bears his name. Over the years quite a few celebrities have qualified for folders on my PC. Sometimes they are named after the actual celebrity (e.g., Guy Carbonneau, although of course as keeper of his online biography it has been my job to collect photos of him, ahem). Others are named for a character, in the case where I really only get off on the person in that particular role (like Faramir, for example).

Meanwhile, my husband David also has a folder of photos. I occasionally glimpse the thumbnails when he's picking out a new wallpaper. Talk about your bevy of beauties. Sometimes he'll have a really attractive woman on his wallpaper, and I'll ask, "She's nice, who's that?" He invariably replies, "I don't know, I just really liked her eyes." Or nose. Or smile. Or sometimes a feature located lower, although Davie's more a face guy than a lot of males.

My point is, he collects photos simply because the women are cute, or beautiful, or hot. They don't represent anything at all to him beyond that. This is pretty classic for guys, who are hardwired to respond to pure physical beauty.

Women aren't so much like that. I very rarely become genuinely interested in a guy just because of how he looks. For example, I knew who Ewan McGregor was long before I saw him in "Moulin Rouge!", but the moment I took notice was when I heard him sing and a quick Google search confirmed it was really his voice in the movie. Obviously my attraction to the Kohls guy, aka Kevin Rice, is strictly physical...but I assure you, I have never actually fantasized about him. I mean, how could I? He's just a face and a body wearing Chaps clothing. I do always check the Sunday Kohls circular, but that's as far as it goes.

So please understand what it really signifies when some guy qualifies for Folder-on-My-PC status. There has to be enough there that when I look at pictures of him, something happens to me, emotionally, spiritually. A flare-up of emotion. A flash of imagination. Inspiration. Otherwise, what is the point of storing up the photos?

Every once in awhile in my life I've had one of these pure experiences of connecting so strongly with a picture or pictures, that the images just evoke all kinds of imaginative and emotional material in my brain. Last night I had one of those. It was time to start writing the last story in my new collection Soulful Sex: The Darker Side. It was to be about vampire themes, about the issue of why it is that females are turned on by the vampire archetype. It was a simple story that required no backstory, with only two characters, and I knew it could be told in under 3,000 words.

But I didn't expect to write it all in one sitting.

There are two stories in this book that I wrote in one sitting each. When that happens, you know you are in the grip of your muse. In both cases, I was looking at a photo all the while I was writing. The meat, the moving elements of those stories, was derived right out of the photo.

This just goes to show you that certain faces serve not as mere bits of beauty, but as portals through which all kinds of imaginative, archetypal, transcendent material may pass. It's true that some faces do tend to function in that manner for a disproportionately large portion of the populace (good examples of that are Elvis, Sting, Davie Bowie...okay, to stop dating myself, Robert Pattinson in his Edward Cullen role). Most of the time, however, it is a very individualized thing. Certain women adore Alan Rickman as Snape, others are crazy for Daniel Radcliffe as Harry, and the two groups really don't get each other at all. There are Legolas or Aragorn women, and there are women who adore Merry or Pippin. But you see the pattern: it's not just a look, it's the whole archetype of the guy.

Awhile back I posted about Neil Gaiman's perfect face. In that post I didn't mince words, and the result was actually rather tongue-in-cheek. As much as I know I'm not alone in thinking the author is attractive, I also know he's not going to be picked People's Sexiest Man Alive. Nevertheless, I was not lying in that post as far as my own view is concerned. When Davie first showed me Neil's picture in the back of American Gods I thought he was indeed my type, but I would not have said then, "OMG, the perfect face!" My current opinion about that is the fruit of a lot of experience and reflection.

One more point I feel compelled to make: Whenever a woman feels this strongly about the appearance of a guy, whenever he reaches Folder-on-My-PC Status, you can be sure of one thing--her imagination has created a very vivid and important personality to go with the face. I sometimes refer to "my imaginary Neil Gaiman" because I recognize that fact. I can even tell you which traits of his are probably also possessed by the real man. (And really, there are very many that are not.) I am also able to step away from the pretend version and think very rationally and objectively about the real version. (The real one inspires me in an entirely different way.)

So, if you happen to discover some friend has a folder on her PC of pictures of some guy, stop before you mock. There's probably some perfectly natural, healthy, actually kind of neat stuff going on there...and it might prove interesting if you ask, "So, what is it about So-and-So that inspires you?"

(Oh, and thanks, imaginary Neil, for this final story for my new book.)

Phases

2008-12-01T22:04:00.009-06:00

Phases are interesting things, especially if you’re like me. My phases--just ask my family--are intense. Bordering-on-but-not-quite-neurotic intense. Consequently, I consider myself quite the little expert on phases. In fact, I know all the types. Please, avail yourself of my vast, but pointless, knowledge of the subject...

Fleeting Phases:

These are the sorts of phases that seem promising at first, then simply don’t prove that interesting. You know, like that hobby that you buy a lot of tools to support, only to lose interest before those tools are barely dirty. Mine was homebrewing. I made two batches of beer, then decided this was what liquor stores and the descendants of Herrs Pabst, Miller and Busch were for.

On a topic more relevant to this blog, I’d say Viggo Mortensen as Aragorn. I loved him in the first "Lord of the Rings" movie, but then I saw David Wenham as Faramir in the second film and the Viggo thing was o-vah. (And whatever happened to Joshua Jackson? Talk about flash in the pan.)

Intense, Quick Burn Out Phases:

These are those fascinations which start out super hot but inexplicably don’t last. There may not even be a clear reason why they are unsustainable, and it really surprises you considering their original promise. A year or so ago I nursed a craving for months to take up the Native American flute. I finally bought one. I was so excited! I sewed a Native American themed bag for it, I practiced almost every day, I really liked it and then, foomp.

Erotically speaking, my example would be Criss Angel. I watched him a bit on TV and my mind was just blown. I collected some photos, used him as wallpaper, blogged about him, had some nice Criss fantasies, and then, abruptly, nothing. I know plenty of women have been hot on this guy for years. I can’t explain why I petered out!

Recurring Theme Phases:

These are variations on a theme, and we all have our own individual themes, sometimes called “fetishes,” those sorts of things we have been consistently attracted to all our lives. I grew up loving to collect rocks. I can’t resist combing a beach, any beach. (I’ve even been known to comb gravel beds at shopping malls.) I got into making jewelry largely because I love rocks. And now I use polymer clay to make rocks!

Meanwhile, my erotic obsessions have included variations on a couple of good physical themes. Blond beards, for example. A big part of my afore-mentioned Faramir thing, and also traceable to personal heartthrobs Kerry Wood, the Kohls guy, and Jason Danieley (although with him it’s really the voice of course). I’m also historically crazy about guys with tousled mops of dark curls. This accounts for why Elijah Wood’s Frodo came in second on my list of favorite LOTR characters. And it may have been one of my husband’s cues when he found the picture of this author named Neil Gaiman and showed it to me as “a guy who is really your type.” So, point is, specific men may come and go, but the blond beard and the dark curls live on (not on one person at once though, ugh).

Take Your Soul in an Iron Grip Phases:

Well, there are a few of these in my life, obsessions I picked up in childhood that never go away. First for me is, of course, writing. Others would be Broadway musicals, science fiction (I should mention that obviously I went through a very passionate “Rocky Horror Show” phase), cats, and crafts.

I’ve had some men-phases like this too, guys who come into my life and make such a big impression that even after the “romantic” feelings eventually dissipate, I never lose the impact that was made upon me. The first example of this is Michael Rennie’s portrayal of the alien Klaatu in “The Day the Earth Stood Still.” I was just a tot when I first saw this film, and the character shaped ever after both my ideal of the fictional hero and my standards for male valor. I rewatched the movie this week and Klaatu still works as much magic on me today as ever. (Good luck, Keanu Reeves!)

I would be remiss not to mention here Montreal Canadiens coach Guy Carbonneau, whose tribute website I maintain (now over 300 pages). He was a huge inspiration (or, okay, I’ll also answer to “obsession”...I mean c’mon, 300 pages?) to me for a good three years, and that’s a long time for this girl. To this day he remains a personal hero and an example of real manhood that few can match.

Impact Your Life Phases:

Some phases may not last for years, but they still make an impression that lingers for a lifetime. In the 80s I was so obsessed with pipe organs that I actually wrote a three minute piece for pipe organ. Well, it was performed publically once, okay? Yeah, yeah, only once. Nevertheless, I still love organ music and appreciate composing in a much deeper way from that experience.

My devotion to “Survivorman” Les Stroud is definitely in this category. I still adore Les but I’m a bit past the swooning stage now. However, he truly affected my understanding of my own love of nature, and taught me much about survival, even of the emotional kind. These lessons will stay with me. And then there’s Neil Gaiman. It’s only been ninth months (and I’m still in the swooning stage as you well know)...but reading the lion’s share of his works has rekindled in me my Jungian outlook on writing and my love of speculative fiction/fantasy. And best of all, if you’re me: I know reading him has made me a better writer. God, I love that man.

Bonus Type--Motivate You to Write a Fan Letter Phases:

I consider a phase as having special standing if it motivates me to write a fan letter. Even in the days of the internet, when doing that is much easier and much more likely to get some sort of reply, I still only write when a phase strikes me as significant. Here’s a list of people who have merited fan letters from me over the years (and whether or not I heard back): Leonard Nimoy as Spock (no), the cast of the movie “Godspell,” (yes, Joann Jonas), Sting (no), Kenneth Branagh (no), Richard O’Brien, author of “Rocky Horror” (yes), Guy Carbonneau (yes), comic book author Terry Moore (no), Les Stroud (yes), Jason Danieley (yes). Wow, that’s a pretty good track record...I must be forgetting a lot of the people who ignored me! LOL

Cripes, this is my longest blog post EVER. Good night.

The Want You But I Don’t Phenomenon

2008-11-22T09:07:00.004-06:00

In my reflections on sexual desireability, I have found one phenomenon that rather baffles me. I’ll call it “I Want You But I Don’t.”

The IWYBID Phenomenon occurs when you are fascinated by, even attracted to, a person who simultaneously repulses you. That person possesses qualities you find charming and charismatic...but other qualities that scream “run away!”

An excellent case in point is how I feel about the character Sheldon on CBS’s sitcom “The Big Bang Theory,” and likewise his three friends Leonard, Howard and Raj. The foursome are physics geeks severely lacking in social (and particularly mating) skills. Not a one of them is ugly—the actors are all cute in fact—but their hair, clothes, and mannerisms on the show do nothing for them. They are all nice guys, just appallingly lacking in the social graces. Intellectually the four could be called alpha-males, except everything else about them negates that fact.

So, here’s the crazy part: I’d love to date any of these guys, particularly Sheldon, who is at the same time arguably the most dysfunctional of the bunch. He is hilarious, which is always a plus, and a genius, ditto. But there are so many reasons to flee this self-absorbed, anal, rude, arrogant man-boy.

So I recognize I’d never want an actual relationship with a guy like this. But still, Sheldon fascinates me. I could listen to him all day rave about string theory or how to apply mechanical engineering to improve your RTA furniture. It’s pretty hot when he debates the finer points of World of Warcraft or speaks Klingon. Repulsive as he so often is, Sheldon is also sexy. It’s weird.

Geek characters are not the only archetypes that repel and attract simultaneously. I often feel that way about Dr. House, who is one moment so coldly cruel you want to smack him, and the next so adorable you want to kiss him. Clearly Lost’s Ben Linus creates conflicting emotions in a girl, but you know how attractive that guy is to a lot of us. I experience similar feelings toward Barney, the womanizer on “How I Met Your Mother,” and Jack Donaghy on “30 Rock,” and Dwight Schrute on “The Office.” There are so many men who, in spite of having some off-putting traits, just suck you in anyway.

The especially interest fact about the IWUBID Phenomenon is that a little repulsion seems to enhance the attraction. My theory is, the brain observes my desiring this undesirable individual, ergo (to use Sheldon-speak) I conclude his positive traits simply must be that irresistible.

However this works, it works. I wouldn’t accept a marriage proposal from Sheldon but I still want him on screen every minute of the show. I could rewatch a dozen times him joking about the hypothetical fellow looking for the circuit breaker in the heart of a black hole. Even in a Periodic Table of the Elements tee shirt, Sheldon looks pretty hot to me.

Kohls Guy and Jason Updates (Admittedly Loopy)

2008-11-19T21:17:00.009-06:00

From our Sorry But Occasionally I Must Totally Objectify Men Files: the mystery has been solved!

Tonight my pal Rebecca reported to me that a reader of her blog identified our elusive Kohls/Chaps Guy at last. (My original report: Sometimes It's Just Physical.) His name is Kevin Rice and you can read Rebecca's full analysis (and see countless amazing photos) here.

My personal fave is reproduced for you below.

I had no idea how much I liked smiles until I saw this.

I'm delighted to have a name for the face at last. And for any of you clever observers out there that are thinking, "interesting how Diana Laurence, with her self-confessed blond beard fetish, has now posted two blond bearded guy entries in a row." For the record, Jason Danieley could be raven haired and baby faced and my heart would be no less in chains to that voice.

And also for the record, I played his songs for my daughter Amanda last night and she absolutely swooned. Why have you not listened to him yet people...are you afraid he will seize your soul? Well, he will!!! But it's totally worth it!!! (OMG, I've become a ditz and the triple exclamation points are coming out now. But it's still worth it.)

The Voice that Makes You Fall in Love

2008-11-13T21:06:00.004-06:00

Backstory: I’ve become a bit of an addict to the Broadway Channel on XM Radio. Broadway’s not for everyone, so don’t bail on me if you’re not into it…just hang on a bit, this is really about you I promise. You see, in the interest of your needs as a reader of Erotica with Soul, I’ve made it my mission to listen to all those Broadway singers and seek out the one whose voice makes one fall instantly in love. Not in my own interest, mind you, but so that I could inform you of who possesses such a magical voice, a voice that seizes one by the heart and sends the libido reeling.

Yesterday I found him at last.

It was an in-studio recording done by Seth Rudetsky for Sirius radio of a tenor singing the old Sammy Cahn number, “Be My Love.” By the third note (and believe me, the third note of “Be My Love” is inherently quite nice) I was clutching my steering wheel and thinking, “It’s him! It’s THE GUY!”

The guy was Jason Danieley.

Jason Danieley has the Voice. The Voice the Makes You Fall in Love. In the car, listening, I am clutching my heart with one hand and trying not to swoon on the freeway. He sings:

Be my love
For no one else can end this yearning
This need that you and you alone create
Just fill my arms
The way you’ve filled my dreams
The dreams that you inspire
With every sweet desire

Be my love
And with your kisses set me burning
One kiss is all I need to seal my fate
And hand in hand
We’ll find love’s promised land
There’ll be no one but you for me
Eternally
If you will be my love

Will I? Will I? Sir, seeing as you have TVTMYFIL, which I have long been seeking among scores of Broadway tenors, baritones and basses, yes, my answer is yes!

Immediately after dinner I hit the internet to find out who this guy was. Well, he’s an award-winning Broadway performer known particularly for his portrayal of the title role in “Candide” about a decade ago, as well as more recent appearances in “Curtains” and “The Full Monty” and a concert production of “South Pacific.” He’s 37 and was born in St. Louis. His wife is also a Broadway star and also an excellent vocalist. That’s about all I know, and yet…all I need to know. After all, if I knew his favorite cheesecake I would only be compelled to mail him a cheesecake, and that’s a little stalker-y.

Now with a voice like that, Jason Danieley could have looked like a yeti and I would give him a pass. However, I don’t mind that he doesn’t look like a yeti, he looks like this:

Sigh. God, what did this man’s mother do to deserve such offspring? But before I feel compelled to burst into “Close to You” (as in, “on the day that you were born the angels got together and decided to create a dream come true…”), why am I wasting time? You must, of course, must hear TVTWMYFIL yourself.

So here, if you go to Jason’s website, the beginning of “Be My Love” will play for you on this page: www.jasondanieley.com/audios.html. Even better, there is a little player on his MySpace page that will let you hear the entire song as well as other tracks from his new CD “Jason Danieley and the Frontier Heroes.”

Go. Listen. Now.

Okay, see, what did I tell you? Don’t you want to marry him? Or at least sit at his feet adoringly while he sings, even if he is singing to his wife who is not you, God bless her? How can you not rejoice in being alive in a world where this man sings the words “and with your kisses set me burning”? My heart swells with gratitude! And other parts of me too!

At long last, my quest has come to an end and I can ask for this CD for Christmas so I can enjoy the bliss of anticipating the day I can fill my car with the voice of Jason Danieley at will (risking of course, swooning on the freeway).

I am making it my life’s mission to hear him in person some day, and sadly, he just did a concert a couple of hours away from Milwaukee like a month ago. But never mind, I needed a new quest anyway!

Now go! Listen to him again! What harm can it do, you’re already hopelessly in love!

What Survivorman Has in Common with Me

2008-11-06T19:47:00.005-06:00

I’m so amped that the new season of “Survivorman” premieres tomorrow! Ah Les, it’s been too long since we got to see you starving and struggling in some new inhospitable environment. Swoon. LOL

So in honor of this auspicious event, I wanted to share with you some very cool Les Stroud lore I discovered in a recent interview. The October Studio Monthly magazine included an article by Les entitled “Backwoods Warrior” that focuses on the filmmaking aspect of his career. (For those of you living under a rock, Les films his show all by himself. But of course, if you’re living under a rock, you really ought to be watching the show for survival tips.) I took particular interest in a paragraph in which Les talked about his motivation in making “Survivorman” as good as it is:

I sat down and meditated (call it whatever you want) on the fact that I had to make this film/this day/this next scene compelling, beautiful and inspirational. There may only be one viewer, but you owe them a great show. When you present a film or any other creative endeavor you take on, you’re asking each audience member to take an hour or more out of his or her life to watch what you did. What right do I have to ask that of them, if I haven’t put everything I possibly could have into this production? Surely they have any number of other things they could be doing with that hour. I owe it to them to put all my passion into what I’m presenting.

Wow, Les, this sums up exactly how I feel about writing romance fiction! Well, writing anything, really, including this blog.

I recently read a blog post on a website for fiction readers that took a very opposite tack. The blog writer took umbrage when an editor suggested some changes to the grammar and structure of one of his posts. His thesis was that his blog was a window into his head, and therefore it ought to be whatever he wanted, without regard to the readers’ interest or understanding.

That attitude kinda frosts my cookies, friends. I have no problem with doing that in my own journal, which is read by no one but me, but when you put writing on a public forum, you thereby invite others to read it. If you don’t care that you may be wasting their time, if you make no effort to be concise and comprehensible, then to me that is putting yourself above others. There’s enough of that in human society without encouraging such an attitude, if you ask me.

I’ve seen that same thing occur recently in other art forms. Case in point: I watched a cake-making competition the other day in which the assignment was to make a haunted house cake. One of the contestants created an ugly abstract mess that she considered “art.” She pooh-poohed the judges’ negative reaction and said they were “unqualified to judge such a contest.”

Hey, sister, guess what? It was their contest! Communication is about the audience, not the “speaker,” and the goal is to get your message across as meaningfully as possible, not to express your individuality at all costs. You’re free to express your individuality in lots of ways—make that cake for yourself if you like. But in art, entertainment, and communication, your efforts are wasted unless at least a portion of the populace gets and enjoys you.

On the flip side, it doesn’t have to be everyone…it simply can’t be, people are too different. That’s the other thing I loved about Les’s statement: Even if there’s only one viewer, even if only one person reads your book or blog post, you owe it to them and to yourself to offer your best work.

I know, due to individual taste, not everyone is going to want to read a vampire romance. But when I wrote Bloodchained I did know that a lot of people like that genre, and that they deserved, in exchange for their reading time, a well-written novel. I kept that charge in mind throughout the process of writing, editing, and publishing the book. I, like Les, consider myself the servant of my readership, not the other way around.

And that’s how the deal works. Artists should never lose touch with the fact that communication is an exchange of currencies: your work for your audience’s money and time. If your ego loses touch with that principle, don’t be surprised if you, like the “cake artist” who came in last, end up with no one watching or listening.

But to end on a more positive note: The nice thing about having Les’s attitude about your work is that it really gets results. “Survivorman” is a moving and beautiful show because Les puts his heart in every episode. I hope you’ll tune in tomorrow night and see what I mean!

Um...So Your Fantasies Aren’t Like This?

2008-10-29T20:37:00.001-05:00

I’m a freak, I know it.

When I was in grade school, a conversation with my best friend led to the discovery that not every child makes up stories for at least thirty minutes every night in bed. I was honestly convinced I was normal until that conversation. But other kids, it seemed, did not make a point of going to bed at least a half hour before they needed to go to sleep, just for the purpose of fantasizing. Sometimes these stories lasted 45 minutes, an hour, and/or ran night after night like continuing soap operas.

As a busy adult I don’t spend quite that much time fantasizing before I fall asleep. And often, this is the time I use for planning for the fiction I’m writing. But sometimes I still do as I did as a little kid and just make up stuff for fun. What kind of stuff? Are you sure you want to know?

Okay, at the risk of revealing what a total weirdo I am, here you go.

Lately I’ve been working on a really great 19th Century, Dickensian tale featuring my current fave celebrity crushes. In it, I’m a 16-year-old homeless orphan girl named Pip. I was living miserably on the streets until, cold and starving, I was found one night by a renowned hero of the “dodgy element” of London, a fellow called Mister House.

Think Fagin meets House M.D.

He has converted an old decrepit workhouse to a clothes making shop/dormitory for homeless kids like me. And instead of training us in pick pocketing like Fagin, Mister House operates the place as a legitimate business. The older kids sew simple clothes, the younger ones do mending jobs and make easy things like handkerchiefs. I happen to have learned from my deceased mom how to embroider, so they set me to work doing monograms.

Mister House is a stern, curmudgeonly taskmaster, but actually much more beneficent than his modern TV doctor equivalent. He uses the profits of the business not to get ahead, but to provide food and shelter to as many kids as he can. He may not show it, but we all know he loves us from his deeds. Naturally he’s just as humorously belligerent as the TV version. And, of course, I’m sweet on him in my girlish way.

All goes well until one day on the streets I encounter a new fellow--or at least, he’s new to me. Handsome, with dark, curly hair and a long black coat, this guy arouses my curiosity right away. He’s a storyteller, and goes around the neighborhood telling tales, mostly to crowds of children. I’m intrigued, but before I can check him out more closely, Mister House intervenes. This stranger is no stranger to him; he’s the Man in the Black Coat, and House’s urchins are forbidden to go near him. Why? No explanation, just orders!

If you can’t guess who plays the role of the Man in the Black Coat, you must be new here. :-)

Well, one day I’m out wistfully staring at a fairy tale book in a bookshop window, coveting it. Who should appear next to me but the Man in the Black Coat! Before I can escape, he engages me in a fascinating conversation about how I don’t need the book, I have fairy stories, complete with pictures, in my head. I’m enthralled. But then he tells me he knows I belong to Mister House, and understands why I can’t come hear him tell stories to kids in the street.

Which results, of course, in my sneaking out to hear him tell stories. And of course he’s incredible at it and I’m head over heels. Still, I don’t want to disobey Mister House and know there must be a good reason for his command. Oh the conflict! There’s nothing like a fantasy with two charismatic protagonists at odds!

At this point in my fantasy, House M.D. character Dr. James Wilson insisted on joining the cast. Hey, no problem. He plays a wealthy, successful doctor from the upper crust, who also has a heart of gold and therefore provides free care to House’s kids. The two of them are longtime, trusted friends.

So, after my surreptitious spying on the Man in the Black Coat telling stories, I end up lost, and he ends up finding me. You know where this is going...to his rooms, of course. Soon I’m fed, entertained with more tales, and bundled up in bed. Now the innocent Pip, so naïve and trusting, learns why the Man in the Black Coat has a bad rap with Mister House. But the thing is, I don’t mind doing what the Man suggests, because I think he’s super dreamy.

Meanwhile, back at House’s place, my having gone missing has become an issue. But just then, Doctor Wilson arrives, having seen me with the Man and suspecting where I ended up. Mister House expresses his vehemence not to go anywhere near “that vile Gaiman fellow” and recruits Wilson to rescue me.

In the morning he arrives chez Man, and demands my release into his care. The Man in the Black Coat complies in a most genial manner. I’m confused as heck. But the doctor seems very kind. He takes me to his office to make sure I’m okay and talk to me about what’s happened. With amazing candor for the 19th Century, we discuss the issue; I still don’t understand what I may have done wrong and Doctor Wilson tries to enlighten me about the inappropriate nature of the Man’s advances.

He takes me home. I get back to embroidering, musing all the while on my situation. Evening comes and with it our master, who has made an especially big profit on our wares and brought us a feast. Ham, bread, potatoes, carrots, etc. and even a lovely big almond cake--it’s like Christmas. All us kids party it up, but all the while Mister House ignores me. I’m afraid he’s really mad. At long last it’s lights out, and we all curl up on our little pallets. It’s only then that Mister House tells me to come to his study. What will he say? I’m so worried!

And there it is! Can’t you see why I’m eager to go back to bed?

I told my husband about this fantasy and he just shook his head in disbelief. Needless to say, nothing like this goes on in his brain at night.

Now you might say, this is just how it is with writers, we just write stories in bed. But I still think it’s all kind of weird. For example, here we are in London, and Mister House could legitimately speak with a British accent like Hugh Laurie actually does...but he’s American. Why? I have no clue! Meanwhile, it’s not so strange that the Man in the Black Coat has a British accent, on any count (all the years in Minnesota haven’t put a dent in how Gaiman speaks). But it’s really wack that Doctor Wilson is British too, not American.

And I really got excited about that almond cake. Why an almond cake? Who knows?

So truly I am not so deliberate with nocturnal fantasies as I am with story-writing. I would never, in a story, have a character that resembled Neil Gaiman in any way be possessed of a nefarious character like this guy; it’s really sick and wrong. But in large part this whole thing is happening to me, you understand--I’m not totally in control.

Sorry this entry was so long. I caught you up on like a week of stuff here. But yeah, this is what it’s like being me.

I’d shake my head too if I were you.

“The Look”

2008-10-24T21:05:00.017-05:00

I don’t know about you, but if there’s anything I can’t resist, it’s The Look. You ladies know what I mean. Even the most boring-looking guy gets a hotness boost when he employs The Look. And when a sexy guy does it, well, there’s nothing better.

I was made mindful of The Look this week when my daughters and I made our annual trek to see “So You Think You Can Dance Live.” I’m pretty fond of all the dancers from the show, but among my faves is Hawaiian native Mark Kanemura. And let me tell you, this guy knows how to do The Look. The choreographers recognized it too, and gave him a lot of chances to show it off. Here’s Mark from two angles doing The Look in his inimitable way:

Kill me now.

The Look involves, basically, a guy tucking his chin and looking out the tops of his eyes. And men have been doing it to us for centuries. From days of yore, check out 1920’s heartthrob Rudolph Valentino doing The Look:

Does a guy have to be Valentino-handsome to pull off The Look? Hells, no. One of the most classic examples of all time is the famous shot of Malcolm McDowell in “A Clockwork Orange.” Malcolm, by nature, is more quirky-looking than hot, but when he does The Look, well, who can handle it?

And then, there’s the alternative of a really good-looking guy performing The Look; say, Ewan McGregor. You get improvement every time, people, just check it out:

Now you may have noticed already that the specific emotion conveyed by The Look can vary. Ewan, in our example, is sort of wistful, or pensive, or perhaps even simply casting his attention with no particular intent. The emotive content of The Look is not so important as the two key elements of it: (1) whites of the eyes showing under the irises, and (2) tucked chin.

Let’s check out another Champion of Successful Look Usage, Hayden Christensen as Anakin Skywalker. The Look is equally effective when the emotion is:

sadness, or...

anger, or...

pure evil.

Fascinating, isn’t it? [Sidebar: You know what’s fascinating? While I am writing this post, on my XM 80s station they are playing Roxette’s “The Look.” My life can be so weird.]

I honestly think that certain archetypes of males are deemed more sexy simply because they make regular use of The Look. For example, take magicians. Nothing conveys “I’m mysterious and powerful and in control of you” like this facial expression. Here’s Criss Angel, who does it so well and often:

Meanwhile, same story with vampires, and you know I’m right. For a contemporary example, here’s Robert Pattinson, who will be starring in the new “Twilight” movie:

Truly savvy men understand this whole thing and make the most of it. I’m convinced, for example, that Hugh Laurie uses it as much as possible in his portrayal of House. I triple-dog-dare you to count the number of “Looks” in any given episode. I mean, doesn’t this expression look familiar, House fans?

Oh yeah, that’s the stuff. If only I had him in my closet to pull out whenever I’m in the mood...oh, what?...sorry! Where was I? Anyway, CC Rogers, the talented illustrator who is currently working on a Bloodchained comic book with me, is just as savvy as Hugh. Check out her portrayal of the comic’s protagonist, Jonas:

As the kids say, [dies].

Well, I only wish I understood how this works exactly. What does The Look, that particular pose of face and cast of eyes, say to us that translates to “unbearably sexy”? If any kind of emotional content works, what is it about that facial expression that holds the power? Darned if I know. All you Erotica with Soul readers who are psychologists who specialize in body language, please enlighten us!

And men, please don’t stop.

Oldies But Goodies: My Top Ten Over Sixty Men

2008-10-16T20:12:00.012-05:00

I was talking to my octogenarian widower father this morning about my daughter’s recent success with Match.com (if you should ever read this, yes Nate, I’m referring to you!). Dad joked about signing up. We discussed how he actually doesn’t need Match.com to get the attention of the ladies: he’s a regular rock star at Alexian Village. LOL

This discussion inspired me to consider the subject of oldies but goodies. So for your consideration, I selected some of my own personal favorite sexy sexagenarians and septuagenarians. I just wish I could include Paul Newman in the bunch. Miss you, Paul!

Jeremy Irons, age 60. Back in the days of “Brideshead Revisited” (1981) I thought him possibly the handsomest man ever born. Age hasn’t set him back much.

Malcolm McDowell, age 65. I went mad over him in “A Clockwork Orange” (1971) and just haven’t been able to let it go. I guess I’m not alone; I hear he’s expecting a child next January!

David Steinberg, age 66. Fun story: It was on David that I had one of my first huge crushes, back when he appeared on “The Smothers Brothers.” I was 14, he was 28…and my heart nearly broke over the fact that he was much too old for me! Oh for the days when 28 seemed old!!! Anyway, David’s not real visible now but is a brilliantly successful director of TV and commercials and one of the greatest comedic minds of our time.

Patrick Stewart, age 68. And he sure doesn’t look it…has this guy made some pact with the devil? Anyway, yes…I had a mad crush on Captain Picard—I’d “make it so” for him anytime.

Anthony Hopkins, age 70. The start for me was “Magic,” 1977. He was just as attractive in “The Edge” at 60. The man may be my favorite actor and I simply adore him.

Donald Sutherland, age 73. I fell hard for him when I saw him in “Ordinary People” back in 1980. He still sets my heart a-fluttering.

Omar Sharif, age 76. In 1968 he took my breath away back when I saw him in “Funny Girl.” Goodness he’s aged well.

John Williams, age 76. My very first post on this blog was about the maestro; I’ve adored his music since I was 14 and he is the next best thing to God in my book.

Leonard Nimoy, age 77. No list of men I loved in childhood would be complete without Spock. In grade school that character owned my heart, and Leonard did too. And I admire the fact that of all the Enterprise crew, he’s always maintained that sexy dignity throughout his career.

Clint Eastwood, age 78. Clint, without a doubt, is the Supreme Poobah of Aging Well. He’s sexy, fit, and a creative genius who shows no signs of stopping. May he live to a hundred and beyond!

That Face, Heaven Save Me!

2008-10-09T21:08:00.003-05:00

Sorry, today I’m going to be shallow. Horrifyingly shallow. You all know how I’m usually so cerebral and/or spiritual. All that talk diminishing the physical, with only the occasional lapse that sinks to the level of eye candiness (see my recent post about the Kohls Guy). Well, I’m not in the mood for being sensible today.

Okay, you know how sometimes you find yourself really attracted to someone physically, except there’s that one thing you have to overlook? Sometimes it seems like nobody, even the most perfect, is perfect.

Some examples:

I am secretly in love with Dr. Wilson as well as Dr. House. Robert Sean Leonard has one of the best mouths in human history, IMHO. Personalities aside (which of course I can’t really do), he’s got it all over Hugh Laurie handsomeness-wise. However...there’s the brows. Slightly too thick. Damn it, so close...

My passion for Survivorman Les Stroud is not any kind of secret. I also really like his face. I’m a sucker for men with thin lips, and his nose is very nice, and he has those wide-set eyes that I’d have given all humans if I were God. However--so sorry, dear Les--the hair is departing. I’m sure that’s why Les so often wears a banana or some awesome hat. With a hat he’s pretty perfect.

In days of yore I was wildly, desperately obsessed with Sting. What cheekbones. No, I mean really, what cheekbones. This man in his youth had godlike looks, no lie. A little too godlike to my mind, for a few years into his career, he had his nose done. The pre-surgery nose was strange, a little large, and absolutely gorgeous. The post-surgery nose was BORING. So sad. (And yes, he has the same hair problem as Les, I know. C’mon, we all age.)

This is so often the case with that nearly perfect guy. You wish his chin was a tad shorter, or his mouth less crooked, or more crooked. Even people who make their living by their faces can’t be perfect, right?

How ironic, then, that the guy with the absolutely perfect face is a writer.

I saw a couple previously undiscovered photos of Neil Gaiman today, and honestly, I almost want to smack the universe for there being someone like this in existence who can’t simply be my personal possession. Now just to reassure you, that is my attempt to explain the feeling I get looking at him, not my personal goal for 2009.

Respect, Diana, respect--this guy is your colleague after a fashion! This man is one of the greatest fantasy/horror/comic writers of all time.

Yes, yes, I know that. But the nose, God, the nose! This is a nose even more thrilling than the one Sting felt compelled to redo. And the mouth--it makes me say “Robert Sean who?” even though seven paragraphs I said “best in history” blah blah blah. Sigh, swoon.

And try telling me these eyes aren’t beyond the beyond. I love eyes with lower lids that just seem to cradle them like that. What kind of God would give a man writing skill like his AND eyes like this? It’s insane!

Best. Hair. On the planet. Sorry, Les, length does matter. Especially when curly and black. Neil has to be aware of this and is simply torturing us women by not cutting it short. Let’s pray he never changes his mind. And yes, I realize the woman who has a blond beard fetish is saying all this.

And the topper, the really incredible thing, is that you can’t blame Neil’s looks on tricks of the camera, or hair and makeup experts. I’ve seen him in video interviews. He really looks this good “in real life.” (In fact, real life brings in the voice, which is in a dead heat with the voices of Les Stroud, Edward James Olmos, and Hugh Laurie for sexiest in the known world. Kill me now.)

I’ve tried to find it, I’ve tried, but in this face I wouldn’t change a thing.

How absolutely maddening it is that one of my favorite minds in all the world lives behind this perfect face. It’s a very lucky thing that three gazillion other people are as obsessed with him as I am, so there’s only a .00000215% chance he’ll ever come upon these raving words. I’m so embarrassed, but I’m at the mercy of that face.

I can only hope you’ll keep this to yourself! I’m suffering enough....

Let’s Talk Addictions

2008-10-07T21:01:00.004-05:00

I was blessed to be born without a propensity for addiction. (My first husband was the opposite sort, so I’m fairly familiar with the traits of an addictive personality.) So I’m a poor candidate for alcoholism, obsessive gambling, chronic shoplifting, and their ilk.

But those of us resistant to those hardcore kinds of addictions still have our little, fairly harmless ones. When you get right down to it, all of us have some things we’d really rather not have to live without.

Dr. House has Vicodin, David Duchovy has (had?) sex, Mythbusters Jamie and Adam have blowing-stuff-up.

My daughter Katie has hanging-on-to-things, my other daughter Manzi has Hitchcock movies, my husband has talk radio.

Our cats Selke, Alice and Cody have, respectively, scraps of paper, fleece clothing (to eat, not wear), and salad dressing.

And me? Well, here’s my current top ten list of addictions:

10. Olives (all colors).
9. 80’s music.
8. Guys with blond beards.
7. Tracking my web traffic and book sales.
6. Anything written by Neil Gaiman.
5. Potato chips.
4. Watching old “House, MD” episodes.
3. Cubs baseball (six months of withdrawal, coming right up!).
2. The Internet.
1. Writing about love and sex.

Happily for me, it would seem that reading about love and sex is on a lot of people’s Top Ten Addictions lists. This past week I saw that happen in a couple of interesting ways.

First of all, there’s my Google Books tracking. (Yeah, I warned you about me and tracking!) I get reports every day on how many of my books are viewed on Google Books, that neat new service that lets you search by word through bizillions of books. I also get reports on the number of pages viewed. Now a person can’t read every page in a book on Google books, but from the tracking I can tell that a lot of people do a search, find one of my collections, and end up reading all the pages Google Books lets you. The average person reads five to fifteen pages.

Google Books doesn’t tell me the search terms, but I can just imagine, based on the terms that lead people to my website and this blog. So...some person is google-book-searching on “candlelight bound slave auction” or “erotic she was brought from the harem to the king's quarters” or “rain shelter blanket arousal nipple” (I swear, these are terms people have actually used to find me). And she or he turns up one of my books, and reads a page. And keeps reading, for fifteen minutes till the Google preview ends. Aha! Hooked!

Secondly, I had a really fun, rare experience this past week. Someone bought my book Bloodchained in ebook format from my online store one night. The next day she bought Soulful Sex Volume I. Two days later she bought Soulful Sex: The Fantasy Collection. This woman is one fast reader! And imagine how I feel to find someone can’t wait another day to read another of my books! A person could get addicted to that feeling pretty easily. LOL

Well, I guess for the truly-not-addictive personalities like most of us, there’s a fine line between enjoyment and wanting not to go more than 24-hours without the thing. You gotta try not to let the latter get the better of you when it matters. But most days, it’s not a big problem if I watch a couple episodes of “House” while eating a few chips...and it’s never a problem if I want to write about love and sex.

And Now, for Some Turn-OFFS

2008-10-01T19:20:00.004-05:00

I write a lot on this blog about the things that excite me about men--real ones and fantasy ones. Hey, what can I say, I’m a glass-half-full kinda chick. But just for a change of pace, I thought I’d think about the qualities and characteristics that for me are sex-appeal-killers, even in the most physically attractive of men. ‘Cause my opinion matters and I’m such an expert. Just kidding...you can take my list or leave it, or post your own ideas!

1. Smoking. This one’s an absolute deal-breaker for me, although a guy who’s quit is of course exempt. So what’s my problem, besides the basic ick factor of the habit? To me it’s a sign that a person is either dumb, has insufficient self-discipline, or both. Sorry, but it’s just plain stupid to throw all that money away and harm your health. (And if you just think it’s cool, then you’re really stupid.) I understand that kids are dumb and some people just get hooked that way, but everyone grows up, and that’s where the self-discipline comes in. Quit. It’s not easy, but it’s obvious. Okay, you can be a valid human being and a smoker, but you can’t be sexy--at least not to people like me.

2. Stupidity. Even among non-smokers. I don’t need a guy to be a genius, but common sense is a must. He should especially not be stupid about things like money, health, and personal safety.

3. No self-discipline. Even among non-smokers. It’s a turn-off when a guy can’t control his alcohol consumption or his eating habits, or when he can’t stick to his exercise plan even allowing for the occasional lapse. Self-indulgence indicates he’s more interested in pampering himself than giving of himself.

4. No spine. Just as even someone as quirky looking as Dwight Schrute can be hot by having a spine, the opposite is true. A guy without opinions or the grit to stand up for them just does nothing for me. This doesn’t mean you have to be an alpha male to get my attention. But to have my respect you must care about something and express that appropriately. You also can’t be the aimless kind who has no plan for his life, no goals or dreams, content to go where the wind blows.

5. Bad manners, being inconsiderate. Just as opening car doors and picking up the tab are much bigger turn-ons than guys even realize, bad manners do nothing for the libido. They indicate a guy is too self-interested and self-absorbed.

6. Being self-absorbed. Speaking of, yes. A certain amount of arrogance can be sexy, but when a guy always thinks of himself first, the effect is the opposite. A woman’s interest increases with her sense that the man can and will look out for her, even protect her; if it seems like he may not even notice she needs assistance or attention, forget it.

7. Judgementalism. I like a guy with principles, a guy who believes in objective truth, in good and evil. But if he elevates those opinions that are merely a matter of taste into rules for acceptable belief, that’s a bad thing. The more appreciation he has for the various delights of living, the better. Even people/subjects/stuff he doesn’t like himself, he ought to be able to respect.

8. Sloppiness. This is just a personal thing with me; some people don’t mind a slob. And it’s a lifestyle, not a moral stance! But for me, a guy who leaves a mess behind him, doesn’t care about the look of his environment, and relies on others to clean up for him is SO not sexy.

9. No sense of humor. This is the kiss of death to sexy, people! The most gorgeous guy, unless he has wit, does nothing for me.

10. Ignorance. No one can be an expert on everything, but if a guy has no awareness whatsoever of things like pop culture, politics, history, literature, music, film, and sports, he’s not going to be sexy to me.

Gosh, I much prefer being positive when it comes to sex and men! I think this is the last time I do this. But hey, female readers, if you need to use my list to wake up your men, please do...maybe that way it will do some good. I’m sure males everywhere feel that it’s a terrible thing to fail to impress Diana Laurence. Uh-huh.

The Real Dr. House

2008-09-24T19:38:00.010-05:00

While we’re on the subject of my current pre-occupation, let us consider the question, is there a real Dr. House? Well, of course not, he’s a TV character, only crazy people think he’s real. Yet I daresay, as in the case of any vividly created, charming fictional character, there are plenty of people for whom he seems real.

For that reason I thought it would be interesting to consider the question of the relative reality/unreality of the figments of our imagination whom we hold most dear. TV’s most popular anti-hero seems a fine example to study, and if you’re not into House, just substitute another fictional person you’ve obsessed over at one time or another.

House is a great example for this study because there’s no one like him. Not in fiction, nor in real life either. It’s also very difficult to confuse him with the guy who plays him. Hugh Laurie, in fact, seems like a man who coincidentally looks like Dr. House. Being British, his accent is different. Not being lame, his walk is different. With a background as a comic, he’s not the same in disposition. Big difference. Easy to see.

However, many of us House fans fall into the very natural trap of thinking that there is a Gregory House deep down inside Hugh Laurie...that in certain circumstances or moods, surely he must be the same as House. If that weren’t true, how could he portray him so effectively? This gives us comfort that, in a certain way, Dr. House lives.

Now I’m not an actor, but I am a fiction writer, and therefore I can guarantee you, there is not a Gregory House inhabiting Hugh’s soul. Not the way we all wish, anyway. I have created a hundred-some characters, and while sometimes they do resemble me, when I’m creating someone as quirky and unique as a Dr. House, these characters are derived from stuff quite alien to my own personality. I don’t think, talk, or act like they do, nor would I in any circumstance I can think of. Meanwhile, quite often I fall completely in love with these fictional people, and I assure you I do not have such feelings towards myself or any part of myself, ever.

In my younger days, when crushing on celebrities, I often made the mistake of giving too much credit to their appearance. For example, I fell for Leonard Nimoy’s portrayal of Mr. Spock, and therefore felt that Nimoy in any context would be as thrilling to me as the emotionless alien. I learned a hard lesson when I saw him play Fagin in a live local production of “Oliver!” Fagin left me completely cold, having nothing in common with Spock, except a slightly similar voice.

Likewise, while there’s no denying Hugh Laurie is a handsome man, that will only take you so far. I’ll put it to you this way, House-lovers: If you were to meet Hugh for a date, would you rather he limp or not? Maybe it’s just me, but I feel he’s not House without the limp, and I would miss it, a lot. But really, a gimpy leg is not normally considered an attractive feature. My point is, it’s not really Hugh Laurie’s handsomeness that is winning you over.

Dr. House is a hybrid creation of an actor and the people who write his lines. He wouldn’t exist if not for both these elements, along with a third: your imagination. It’s your imagination that enables you to fill in the gaps in House’s life and history; it’s your imagination that make it possible for you to picture him in circumstances other than what you’ve seen on the show (like making out with you, perhaps, LOL). Whenever you “adopt” a fictional character in a personal, passionate way, the creator(s) of that character eventually become tools for you—providing with the performance more material for you to imagine the character is real. Certainly credit goes to those creators. I thank Jane Austen and Colin Firth for my conception of Mr. Darcy, and Charlotte Bronte and George C. Scott for Mr. Rochester. And my very heart swells with gratitude to Hugh Laurie and his scriptwriters.

Do I then have no love for Dr. House? Is he worthless, having no independent existence?

Well, I’ve said it before (particularly in my book Living Beyond Reality) and I’ll say it again: being “real” isn’t everything. That’s why fictional characters sometimes have as much impact on history, culture, and society than flesh-and-blood people. Would the world be the same without King Arthur, Don Corleone, Dorothy Gale, Romeo and Juliet, Frodo, Dracula, Cinderella, Luke Skywalker, Mr. Scrooge, Superman, Scarlett O’Hara, James Bond, Harry Potter, and Sherlock Holmes, the man who inspired Gregory House?

Sometimes unreal people get very close to coming to life. What exactly these beings are, I can’t tell you. All I know is, the “real” Dr. House always walks with a limp and speaks American.

House, MD: When Cranks Attract

2008-09-19T22:24:00.003-05:00

It’s pretty easy to see the appeal in heroic men like I’ve posted about lately: your Mike Holmeses and Chicago Cubses. And most women get why bad boys can be charming—especially when, like Neil Gaiman, underneath the black clothes they are good at heart. But why is it that sometimes the most irresistible men are the cranks? Prickly, grumpy, unpleasant, off-putting...nevertheless these Mr. Rochester/Mr. Darcy types can be inexplicably sexy.

Case in point: everyone’s favorite misanthrope, Gregory House, M.D.

I’m only four years behind the rest of my fellow females in falling for this guy. I always knew I’d love the show, always knew Hugh Laurie was hot, always knew I am a sucker for grumps. But I didn’t have time for another TV show in my life. So occasionally I caught a few minutes here and there, barely preserving myself from catching that most infectious disease, House-ophilia. Unfortunately, a couple weeks ago Davie started watching the House marathons on USA and became addicted. In the spirit of family harmony (our daughters are already fans), I joined in watching the new season.

The inevitable happened: here I am blogging about House.

First of all, I don’t think House would be sexy if he weren’t a genius--specifically the sort of genius that he is. As the medical version of Holmes (Sherlock, not Mike), he seems to have a preternatural ability to know what is going on in your body. This talent is in sharp contrast to his emotional insensitivity, and sets up the recurring situation of your deciding House is deeply perceptive, only to be slapped back to reality by his latest heartless crack. (There’s nothing sexier that a guy who takes you on an emotional rollercoaster ride, right?)

So, he does seem superhuman in a way, and I never tire of watching him intellectually blow others out of the water and outwit his enemies armed with analytical thinking and that rapier (scapel?) wit. It’s easy to end up all starry-eyed like Allison Cameron when House saves otherwise doomed patients week after week.

To make matters worse, Dr. House is vulnerable and arouses female sympathy. He’s got that chronic leg pain that causes his limp, a brilliant plot device that achieves said vulnerability while enabling him to look cool brandishing his cane. His addiction to Vicodin is constant proof of his fallibility. And then there’s the semi-dysfunctional but charming relationship he has with his best/only friend Dr. Wilson. The guy might as well have “Please love me, I’m so alone” stamped on his forehead.

There are few things more tempting to a female than a man who has the ability to appear invincible while clearly needing love, especially when his slightly-cracked armor is wit. I don’t know if the writers who conceived “House” were simply trying to create an interesting lead character, or deliberately set out to invent television’s most irresistible leading man, but they did a bang-up job on both.

And certainly the lion’s share of credit has to go to Hugh Laurie (I can’t even resent that he gets $400,000 an episode). It’s not easy to walk the borderline between crabby and beguiling, misanthropic and heroic, vulnerable and genius, unkempt and handsome, aggravating and loveable. And in an American accent no less. It’s a consistent performance that requires vocal skills, facial expressions, and body language to all be utilized perfectly. The proof of this role’s complexity can be demonstrated if you ask a female House fan why she is attracted to him.

Sometimes it’s the expression he gets while staring at his white board struggling with a diagnosis. Sometimes it’s the particular tone he uses while delivering those zingers. It can be the way he copes with challenges, or the way he so miserably fails to cope. Just watching House limp down a corridor while the soundtrack plays the closing music of an episode, you can be overwhelmed with complex feelings that ultimately boil down to love.

I should have known that keeping away from House was only postponing the inevitable. It’s not going to end up saving me any time having avoided the show for four years...now I just have to watch all the episodes on DVR or DVD. Plus blog about the guy. Plus, I’m sure, write some short story inspired by him.

I should have known...cranks get me every time.

Mulder and Scully, Open a File

2008-09-14T19:58:00.005-05:00

Even if my ravings about my Neil Gaiman obsession bore you to tears, I recommend you read this post if you enjoy "The X-Files" or "The Twilight Zone." My life is turning into an episode of some paranormal prime time drama.

[NOTE TO THE READER: If you'd rather just cut to the intensely dramatic, amazing part, please feel free to skip the non-dramatic, milding amazing next five paragraphs.]

You guys know me, I'm eccentric but also very practical (like INTJ type people often are). I'm a fan of the scientific method and like to operate on facts, not feelings. That said, when I see wacko coincidences going on left and right, I still think they are worthy of note. So, Agents Mulder and Scully, get out your dictaphones and notebooks and get a load of this.

First, let's flash back to weird Neil synchronicity #1, from my March 19, 2008 entry, Notes on the Gaiman Crush, Part 2: While watching an interview with Neil on YouTube, I guessed what he was about to say concerning awesome Jungian author Joseph Campbell. No biggie there; could be explained by the simple fact that both Gaiman and I are authors, and rather Jungian in persuasion.

In our next episode, on May 20 I posted about Neil synchronicities #2 and #3, in I Need You to Help Me Figure Out My Brain. On these occasions I anticipated, with nearly inexplicable accuracy, what two of his stories were going to do. Spooky, yeah...but I figured these were just a couple instances of us thinking alike and having read the same books. Note, I said nearly inexplicable...but not unfathomable. But read the post...it was still damn weird and I have yet to meet anyone who guessed either one in advance.

Fast forward to August 17's episode aka Neil synchronicity #4: My Neil Gaiman Birthday and Other Musings. This particular evening my brain invited me to dig out an old unpublished novel of mine, and I found several coincidences between the first couple chapters and my evening's readings in Neil's The Sandman. Again, the skeptic in me will say, you can find some common ground between any two books, really, can't you? And that could well be all it was, indeed.

However...what I didn't post about in that entry was one more odd parallel I discovered that evening. (I just didn't want to go on and on like a crazy person, kind of like I am in this post.) I also read Neil's Coraline that night, and both Coraline and my Looking on Darkness feature a snow globe as a key object. Yeah, yeah, just a coincidence. People write about snow globes all the time.

NOW HERE COMES THE DRAMATIC, AMAZING PART!

I have lately been reading Neil's and Terry Pratchett's hilarious book Good Omens (subtitle: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch). I borrowed it from our dear friends Cherie and Andy. (Cherie...I bet you guys mentioned the cool thing about this copy of the book once, but I'd forgotten!) Well, while reading the first half of the book, I used the front dust jacket flap as a bookmark. I passed the halfway point the other night and switched to the back flap, thus liberating the front part of the book.

Well, I got tired and decided to go to bed, and I was checking out the dust jacket for something when the book fell open to the bookplate, to reveal...wait for it...this copy of Good Omens was autographed by Neil Gaiman! It said:

Andy, BURN THIS BOOK!

Neil Gaiman

Apply holy match here -->

Very cool, very hilarious, I was charmed. Nice, Neil! But now comes the spooky part, peeps...

I closed the book. I found myself overwhelmed with the urge to read one more chapter. An urge so intense I questioned it. And I thought to myself, what if I'm getting this urge because this next chapter includes something that ties in with the autograph? So I read on.

Please understand, in Good Omens there is an important book called, of course, The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch. And in the next chapter, only four pages further on, that book catches on fire. I absolutely had no way to see this coming. It was crazy to me.

I quit reading and went to bed.

Yeah, yeah, I know...just another crazy coincidence. But I just had to share. Excuse me now, I have to take this call from the FBI, or is it Rod Serling beyond the grave?

Sometimes It’s Just Physical

2008-09-10T20:08:00.006-05:00

I was one of those little kids who loved frosting. I’d take the corner piece of cake anytime, to get that extra butter and sugar. In fact, I’d even try to get the piece covered with frosting roses. As I got older, however, I learned to prefer the cake. Nowadays there are some cakes I adore (like my rum cake) that have no frosting whatsoever.

That also applies quite a bit to my history with men. When I was younger, it was the fancy exterior that got me drooling. Nowadays, I am often drawn to frosting-less men who are wonderful inside. That definitely applies to my Edward J. Olmos thing of ‘06-’07. It was sort of a similar story with Les Stroud, whom I didn’t find overly handsome until I learned to love his personality. Neil Gaiman? Well, yeah, there’s some fine chocolate frosting on that man, but it’s his cake that really won my heart.

But occasionally still, it’s all about the frosting.

Last night Davie and I watched the premiere of ABC’s “Fringe.” I was very excited about this show, and not only because J.J. Abrams is brilliant and I love paranormal stories. No, mostly I was anticipating seeing Joshua Jackson every week. He was mighty nice back in his days as Pacey “on the Creek,” and age has only improved him. There are not a lot of actors these days that make my pulse run rampant whenever they are on screen, but he is one of them.

As Peter Bishop, genius ne’er-do-well son of a mad scientist (there’s a nice bio), Josh has a very entertaining, sexy role to play. But to me, the cool role is just icing on the...er...frosting. At one point mid-show, Davie asked me, “So...what exactly about this guy that you like so much?” All I could say was, “Everything.” Could I be any more specific? I’ll really try, because I care about you guys! Well, he does have that whiskery-thin-lipped Les Stroud/Kenneth Branagh thing going on that so sends me. Swoon. And gorgeous eyes and amazing brows. Nice physique, too. He looks really, really good when brooding. Or when cracking jokes in a cranky way.

Am I not ashamed of being shallow? Wait, it gets worse.

Let’s talk about pure-butter-and-sugar-and-not-a-cake-crumb-to-be-seen. Meet: the Kohl’s guy.

I don’t know his name although I think my daughter Amanda could find out; she works for Kohl’s ecommerce department. In fact, among her co-workers, this model is known as “the guy Amanda’s mom likes.” I gotta admit, I love that.

Anyway, I have been lusting for this guy for years every Sunday when he appears in the Kohl’s newspaper circular. You know me and blond beards. I just think he is startlingly dreamy and if I ever met him (which is a tiny potentiality because I guess the circulars are actually shot here in Milwaukee) I would be speechless.

Obviously I have no idea what this guy is like. He dresses nicely, of course. LOL And looking at him, I can imagine he’s intelligent, sincere, heterosexual, and has a dry and slightly dark sense of humor. Can’t you? Of course! And isn’t he just irresistible?

I guess not, actually! I found a discussion about my guy on the LafayetteMoms forum, and most of them beg to differ with me! Read on:

Kohl’s male model; Hot or Not?

Sorry to bring down the level of discourse but I was curious to know what other people think. Kohl’s uses this blond male model in their ads for their Chaps line of clothes. He is on the cover of today’s ad. Every time I see him I think he looks more likely to be arrested for petty theft than to sell designer clothes. Do you think he’s handsome?

--I like dark hair and eyes myself, but I think he’s pretty handsome -- could probably stand to shave, though!

--I think he looks kinda ker-blah, not really anything special. I also enjoy dark hair and eyes. The look on the model’s face isn’t really too pleasant, he looks very cocky and not friendly. Advertising with him for Father’s Day isn’t too smart on Kohl’s part. I want (and have) a nice kind "daddy" type guy.

--He’s got all the right features to be attractive, but he is not what WOWS me either. I think it is the scruff that makes him look more ‘wanted’....by the authorities, not women, that is! lol- totally just joking!! I am sure there are plenty of women who do find him attractive, or he wouldn’t have made it into modeling!

--Not a hottie to me........

--I agree - I don’t care for the scruffy look. Now, the guys on page 18-19 in the same ad are more my idea of hot.

Crazy women! I suppose next someone is going to tell me Joshua Jackson leaves them cold.

Fine, leave me to my plate of frosting, I don’t care! ;-)

A Home Improvement Hottie Named Holmes

2008-09-04T19:56:00.002-05:00

I’ve blogged before about some of my heroes on HGTV and TLC, and everyone knows that there are few things sexier than a good-looking man in a tool belt. Well, it’s high time I posted here about a shining light in the world of hot contractors: Mike Holmes.

While we U.S.-type Americans are only beginning to catch on, our neighbors to the north have been idolizing Mike for some time now. His show “Holmes on Homes” is HGTV Canada’s number one hit, and one of my Canuck friends tells me he’s something of a household word up there.

So what’s the deal with this guy, eh? (Sorry, had to do that.) Well, on the surface he’s a big, burly, blond Canadian guy who typically sports a wife-beater under overalls. He’s got the rugged good looks going on, but he’s not exactly Carter Oosterhouse. Nevertheless, tune in to a couple episodes of the show and you too will love this guy.

Mike Holmes’ shtick is rescuing homeowners from construction disasters. These people trusted a contractor, paid him good money, and ended up literally living in a nightmare. Their foundations are failing, their heat isn’t working, their wiring and plumbing is screwed up and dangerous, that sort of thing.

Mike and his able crew to the rescue.

The first step is uncovering just what’s wrong. That invariably means a lot of drywall being ripped out and plenty of very bad news. It’s really fun. Why? Well, first of all, you get to see Mike punch holes in walls with his bare hands. Secondly, you get to watch him become infuriated and rave about the shoddy workmanship. And third, you know no matter how bad it gets, in the end everything will be made right.

That’s Mike’s trademarked motto: “Make it right.” He’s so good at undoing bad things, you wish he could go back to Eden, kick out the serpent with his steel-toed boot, and nail the apple back on the tree. In lieu of that, this anal-retentive perfectionist and his cohorts make snarled and deadly wiring look like it would make Martha Stewart smile. They seal foundations, they eradicate mold, they take kitchens with crooked cabinets and turn them House Beautiful.

Indeed, the results of their meticulous plastering, nailing, sealing, leveling, and always spray-foam-insulating (this is Canada after all) are more than perfect, they are picture-perfect. The final woodwork, painting, and decorating—typically all you get on a home improvement show—is the frosting on the cake.

Homeowners whose faces formerly were agonized and tearful, are now weeping with joy and relief. I think it’s not an exaggeration to say that Mike has kept a few people from going homeless or getting divorced, simply by extricating them from the dire situations inflicted by unscrupulous and/or shoddy contractors.

Maybe now you see why Mike Holmes has started looking so damn good to me. He’s a white knight for the 21st Century, slaying not dragons but crappy living situations, rescuing not damsels but families.

He’s also founded the Holmes Foundation, an organization that encourages and sponsors young people in the construction fields. His inspiration AND his money should go a long way to create more mini-Mikes that will make living in Canada safer and happier.

The only thing “Holmes on Homes” lacks is the satisfaction of bringing back the perpetrators to face wuppings from the intimidating big guy in the overalls. But as Mike said on a show we saw recently, better to let the past go and focus on improving the future. That’s pretty inspiring too.

So, my hard hat’s off to you, Mike Holmes! I am happy to move you to the head of the Erotica-with-Soul-endorsed home improvement hotties. You can make it right in my world anytime!