Wednesday 31 October 2012

Raw Meat and Razorblades: Why I Love Dark Heroes


Today is Halloween. It’s the day the veil lifts between the living and the dead. The day the barriers between the worlds become silk-thin. Thin enough to see through, if you have that gift.

It is also Jericho Barrons’ birthday

Well, kind of. See, Jericho doesn’t exactly have a birthday…it’s complicated. And I don’t want to spoil it. So moving on. Jericho Barrons, from Karen Marie Moning’s Fever series, is the absolute epitome of perfection when it comes to dark, dangerous heroes.

I think a lot of romance novel writers are a bit nervous about dark heroes. Either there’s too much of a save-the-kitten factor, or the guy goes overboard and is more asshole than sexy-dangerous-awesome. In older books—like romance novels from the sixties to eighties—I think it was more common for authors to go too far over that line. I’ve read a lot of pseudo- or sometimes outright rapey misogynist heroes, and been utterly baffled as to why the heroine actually liked those guys. And in newer romances, I get the sense that a lot of authors are nervous about walking too close to that line. The heroes are presented as big and bad, but there’s too much of a softie undercurrent. For some women, that’s sexy. But my tastes run a bit darker than that.

JZB walks that razor thin line—between sexy and psychotic—with perfect grace. He admits to murdering innocent people. He has zero save-the-kitten factor whatsoever when we meet him—and it doesn’t get much more than a smidge better when we know him. He never rapes anyone, but he is not against the occasional foray into sex so dominant that it toes a few lines. He is, essentially, a scary-ass motherfucker.

And yet he is so, so sexy.

So why is this? Why do we—not all of us, but those of us who have this particular taste—like our heroes with a side of, as Jericho Barrons would say, raw meat and razorblades?

We're not all masochistic women who always wind up with abusive guys. It’s also true for many of us who have normal, functional relationships in real life—with guys who both turn us on and who we can introduce to our parents. But why is it that for some of us, the sweet, nice, sexy flavor of romance hero just isn’t as compelling?

There’s a scene in one of the Fever series where Moning—through Mac, the heroine—explains it perfectly. I don’t have the book in front of me, so this won’t be a direct quote. But it’s a scene where Mac is in one of JZB’s fast cars. They both have a thing for cars. And he lets her drive. They have an extremely adversarial relationship, and this is one of their first really friendly moments.

And what she says is this. Something like, when the biggest, scariest beast in the forest leans over and licks you instead of tearing your head off—like it does with everyone else—you know you’re special.

As soon as I read that line, I felt a chill go up my spine. I thought, This woman GETS it.

See, the nice guy is nice to everyone. He’s nice to his mom. He’s nice to his friends. He’s nice to his exes, even. Sure, he’s also nice to you. That’s great. But it’s not unusual. The fact that he’s also nice to you doesn’t make you special.

Now, a puma laying its inky head in your lap and purring—that’s a different story.

The really bad-ass dark hero’s charisma comes from the way he makes us believe that, as women, we can be the special ones. We can be the rare, beautiful, sparkly unicorn who makes him roll over and purr—just for us. The woman who can make somebody like Jericho Barrons want to stick around must be really, really special. And the fact that he’s a scary-ass motherfucker only heightens that effect.

I know it’s a dangerous attraction. And when carried over into real life, it can lead to some crappy—sometimes even abusive—relationships. Some of us go through a lot of guys like this, more in love with the idea of being the special one than with him specifically, before getting wise and settling down with someone we can actually make a life with.

Because that’s the thing about dark heroes. In real life, they are not life mates. In real life, the puma will not turn into a cuddly kitty because you are so, so special. No. It will eat you. Because that’s what it does. And the worst part is, it’s nothing personal. No matter how special you think you are, in the end you’re dinner. Just like everyone else.

It’s only in novels that we have the power to turn that dangerous predator into the man of our dreams. And feeling like we alone have that power is exhilarating. But Jericho Barrons is fictional. Even his birthday is fictional. Ultimately, so is that exhilarating feeling.

And really, even though it feels so, so good--it's better that way.

So happy fictional birthday, Jericho Barrons—and happy Halloween.

Cupcake of the week: Werewolf Cupcakes

I couldn't resist actually putting up a delicious werewolf cupcake for this week’s cupcake of the week.

Tuesday 30 October 2012

Out of the Blue

I just saw this on mentalfloss.com and while it's not my day, it's certainly a cupcake that should make anyone giggle after the Frankenstorm:

Is it over yet?
Also, this:

Storm-a-Kitteh....
Hope you're all safe out there!

Monday 29 October 2012

My Geek Manifesto

Pretending to be a geek is cool now. I know this because I live in Brooklyn—the womb of the hipster movement. Hipsters wear clothes that look like they come from a thrift store but really cost $90 at Urban Outfitters. They wear throwback t-shirts with 80’s and 90’s cartoon characters ironically. They do a lot of things ironically. But one of the things that really defines a hipster, in my eyes, is an intense and abiding obsession with some obscure pop-cultural reference. Most of them pick music—the more obscure a band is, the more hipster music fans will love it. I think the ideal hipster band is one that has, like, one fan—that one hipster hip enough to recognize its brilliance. But it’s always done with this layer of cool, with this deliberate attempt to out-obscure-knowledge the other person.

 See, I am a real geek. And I am not socially cognizant enough to wear anything ironically. When I put on a Labyrinth t-shirt, I do it with a complete, total, un-ironic love of Jareth and all his epic-haired, unashamedly-jodhpur-strutting, crop-waving, muppet-hurling, bizarrely-inappropriate-for-a-kid’s-movie sexual magnetism. When I love something, I am utterly un-ironic in a way that is completely uncool—I can’t even pull off the so-nerdy-about-music-that-somehow-I’m-cooler-than-you-for-knowing-weird-bands hipster mystique, because there is always someone who knows more than me about my own chosen areas of geekiness. I don’t care. This isn’t a contest. I love uncool things.

I love romance novels, for instance. I love Johanna Lindsey and Judith McNaught and if you try to tell me that The Notebook is romance in the same way a romance novel is romance, I will give you a forty-five minute lecture on actual romance novel tropes and why your typical chick flick is not the same thing. I have a running list in my head of heroes I am still fully, unashamedly, drastically in love with and yes, it’s just as all my ex-boyfriends feared—I do compare them to fictional characters in my head. I have a Barrons Books and Baubles t-shirt and I wear it proudly to showcase my love of Jericho Barrons, wherever he is, just in case I meet him in a dark Shade-filled alley someday—because if that day ever comes, I want that dude on my side.

I can live with Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy being fake. But dammit, Jericho Barrons is REAL.

 I’m also a fantasy nerd, but I was a fantasy nerd before it was cool. One of my big pet peeves is people who think sci-fi and fantasy are the same thing. They are not. They are, in fact, polar opposites. I was a George R. R. Martin fan girl before the TV show was a gleam in some television executive’s eye. Tolkien was my first love—I still vividly remember where I was the first time I entered the Mines of Moria and Shelob’s Lair. You don’t forget formative stuff like that. I strongly believe that somewhere, in a parallel universe, there exist the real last four books of Stephen King’s The Dark Tower series and someday I will go on an epic, multiverse-spanning quest to find them.

 So yeah, where was I? Something about hipsters. I forget. But I think what I was trying to say was that even though being a geek has been overlaid with this ironic patina of cool, I still haven’t figured out how to paint myself with that brush. I’m geeky, and I am so not cool about it. And that is totally fine.

Friday 26 October 2012

What I'm Reading: The Crown of Embers


I’m going to apologize in advance. When I post about the books I’m reading you’re going to see a lot of this: !!!, and this: OMG this book is so bloody good, and this: ya’ll have to read this, seriously, like right now.

Ok, now that we've got that out of the way the reason my book posts will essentially be overly excitable is because:

1) I am overly excitable. I’m that kid who’s had way too much caffeine and bops around until someone finally snaps and forces me to sit down and watch some mind numbing TV or National Geographic, or PBS or a good BBC documentary (yes, I’m so damn lame).


2)  Because I am only going to blog about books I really enjoy. So, if all my posts read like an excited child it’s because I am only telling you about the books I enjoy. Not because I think you should only say things when you have nice things to say but because of ‘the sad beautiful fact that we’re all going to miss everything’. I firmly believe if we’re destined to miss almost everything then I've got no time or energy to waste telling you about something that I’m not over the moon about. It’s a waste of all our very limited time and passion. I'm all about not wasting passion.

So with those ground rules in place here’s what I’m reading.

Wednesday 24 October 2012

Cupcake of the Week: Sloths!!!

So my birthday is October 20. Despite the fact that I had an excellent birthday this year, I have a rather grumbly relationship with birthdays in general these days. I may go into that in a different post. Stay tuned. But THIS post...this is all about the sweet stuff. Which in this case happens to be sloths. 

I just heard that October 20, in addition to being the day that I turn 25 again and again until death do us part, is also International Sloth Day. Which in my opinion is one of the best days to have your birthday fall on. Because 1. who doesn't love sloths? WHO?? They are so cute I could just SQUEEE all over the place. And 2. It provides an excellent excuse to sleep in, be lazy, and generally emulate one all day or until someone gives you presents for being so darn cute. Whichever comes first. 

So, without further ado:





Monday 22 October 2012

Doctor, Doctor... (or My Geek Manifesto)

I am, unabashedly, a dork. I’ve been questioned about it before by people who think that I don’t recognize the signs for what they are. Nope. I’m not ignorant of the fact that I’m a dork.

I sing in hallways. Actually, it started to chase off stage fright, since if I can sing in the hall when I’m not under pressure, surely I can sing in front of a few people on a stage, right? It became a barometer of my personal cheer. It’s who I am. I’m the one singing to herself as she digs through her bag on the elevator. It’s Friday at five and I’m singing to The Cure in my head and I am in love. It’s just another manic Monday. I occasionally make up strange little songs about things and love it when others do the same, because I’m just a strange little girl....

Does that make me crazy? Possibly.....

Thursday 18 October 2012

What I'm Reading: The Little Prince


I am reading The Little Prince by Saint Exupery—in the original French. Yes, I realize that sentence sounds a bit pretentious. But cut me a freakin’ break. I have been trying to learn French for at least a decade. And so far the best I can do is have a very basic conversation about what I ate for dinner last night and the fact that I have a job. Very few actual details about my job. I cannot discuss political opinions or my hopes and dreams. I can’t be funny. (It’s debatable if I can do that in English…but oh well). I can have a conversation in French, but not a personality.

I love The Little Prince. The imagery is so strange and seminal and deeply meaningful. It’s like somebody came along and wrote down every detail of that incredible, memorable, weird dream you tried to hang onto when you woke up, but couldn’t—all you could remember was that there was a tiny asteroid-planet and some tiny volcanoes and a man with a biplane in a desert with a drawing of a sheep. And you had to get somewhere up in the sky, somewhere fast, and it was deeply important, but you can’t remember why. Reading The Little Prince is like living in your subconscious brain for a little while.

I wish I could talk more about the poetry of the French language vs. the experience of reading it in English, but sadly, my French isn’t good enough. I read with the book in one hand and a French-English dictionary in the other. Stay tuned for that post as my French improves. 

Wednesday 17 October 2012

It's Raining Men....

Your "cupcake" for the week, since I thought it was pretty sweet (funny sweet, not ::wolf whistle:: sweet. Sorry.): 

According to this Ridicu-list by Anderson Cooper, the barometric forecast seems indicate a tropical depression, rainy with a chance of streakers....


Monday 15 October 2012

What We’re Up To Here

So why cupcakes? And why karma?

People call karma a lot of nasty names. But sometimes it’s wonderful. Sometimes it’s just what you need, just in time. This is a space for us to talk about the big things: our writing, our dreams, our lives.

But let’s face it. Sometimes you just need a taste of something sweet. Like a video of a baby sloth doing something cute. That’s the cupcake side of things. (And sometimes it’ll be a picture of an actual cupcake.)

Sometimes life serves up cupcakes--and sometimes karma. And on this blog, we imitate life. We’re all writers. We write an eclectic mix of romance, fantasy, YA, steampunk, magical police procedural . . . we dwell firmly in the realm of the speculative and fantastical. We’re working toward getting our novels agent-ready. Some of us are querying. All of us are hopeful. We believe in karma and cupcakes and everything in between, and it’s all fair game on this blog.

Come on this journey with us. 

Team Cupcakes & Karma xoxo