Steambrain Punkstorm
I’ve decided to make a steampunk dress. It will be adjustable for pregnancy and non-pregnancy, breastfeeding and non-breastfeeding, hot weather and cold.
It will be dark blue, ankle length and sleeveless, made of medium-weight material that doesn’t wrinkle. Here’s the material, in fact: something called “classique suiting”, whatever that means.
It will have a high waist that gathers at the front just below the bust (that takes care of the pregnant/non part). It will probably have corset-style lacing between a deep V-neck at the front, which I hope will solve the problem caused by breasts that dramatically change in size (I’ll wear a singlet underneath in a contrasting colour). And there will be some kind of ingenious arrangement to assist with breastfeeding (a kind of sleeveless button-up jacket that can be attached to the dress to become one piece with it: I have the buttons). Having it sleeveless means I can wear warmer clothes underneath.
As much as possible, the mechanics of the dress will be visible and decorative – brass look press studs, for example.
So. . . ideas? I think an adjustable length at the front would be handy, but not necessary (pregnant belly lifts the hemline at the front). The breastfeeding arrangement will be the most complicated to design, I think. There will be layers.
Inspirational pictures of my kind of clothes. . .
PS I haven’t forgotten the promised map of steampunk literature – I have discovered a few more books I really need to read first. Yesterday I discovered Mark Hodder, thanks to the Steampunk Scholar I mentioned a few Steampunk Sundays ago.
Hook and Line
It says plenty that I’m still following this blog. Here is a great article on hook and title. She says that your hook is the answer to the question, “What makes your book viable and unique?” And remember that controversial is good.
If you’re like me, your hook is what makes your book interesting to YOU. Remember that first moment of joyful inspiration, when you thought you’d never thought of anything so brilliant – and make sure that flash of genius came through in the finished novel.
Titles these days are short, but they tell the reader plenty. You want to convey genre and style – fast. So do spend those hours brainstorming until you find something that works – and then accept that the publisher may change it. That’s life.
Random cat pic (and yes it’s mostly baby. Sue me):
“Grass for his Pillow” by Lian Hearn: book 2 of 4.5
Our hero, Otori Takeo, is torn in three directions. He was brought up by the Hidden, a religious order that forbids violence. He was adopted by Otori Shigeru, a warrior with a long-term plan to reclaim his heritage from his uncles – a plan known and secretly embraced by his people. And Takeo’s genetic heritage binds him strongly to the Tribe, a group of assassins with special abilities, who would kill him rather than let him go.
The rest of this review is at Comfy Chair, where I get paid for it.
Outgrow your outfits
As you can probably guess, this is an awesomeness supplied by Louisette.* She has now gained about half a kilo (since birth, I mean) and has outgrown her first outfit. Farewell, cute white fuzzy thing. It was fun while it lasted.
*I’ve outgrown plenty of clothes lately, but it’s not so awesome when I do it.**
**Except when it’s because of Louisette.
A lifetime in pictures: The first month
I have taken at least one picture of Louisette every day since she was born. I’ll keep doing this until she’s at least a year old. There are comments here at Project 365.
It is already possible to see enormous changes. Here are the best (culled mercilessly, especially when she was photographed with other people – meaning that some very important people are not represented as they should be; Louisette, after all, is the star of this show):
Buy something truly stupid
My brother and I have something in common (other than genetics): we both own an artsy and unique coffee table. Although they’re different shapes, they both have a dark glass top and strange, leaf-like legs. They match almost nothing on earth – except each other. We both quietly covet the other person’s leaf table, while simultaneously wishing we could put our own in storage for a few years – they’re desperately impractical, not at all child-safe, and just the right height to be constantly banging the shins of the unwary – until we buy a house big enough to put them in (something we both plan to do in the next few years, if we can).
When my sister in law spotted another leaf table for sale online, she decided not to get it – but told me about it. CJ and I discussed it, and decided it was a silly thing for us to buy when our flat is much, much too full already. That was exactly why my brother and his wife didn’t get it.
But. . . we couldn’t just let it go. So my bro and I flipped a coin. I lost (or did I win?) so I bought the table. And I love it.
Ana likes it too.
What stupid things have you bought lately?
Breasts: Not just for decoration
Every so often I hear about something so unjust, so wrong that I want to devote myself to fighting against it, possibly for the rest of my life. And by “every so often” I mean “actually quite often – too often to let myself follow through”. I don’t fight those wars, except sometimes with an “entries that matter” blog entry.
Breastfeeding: It’s necessary to sustain life. It’s not particularly schedulable. If a mother wants to venture out in public for more than an hour at a time, she’s going to have to breastfeed out there, in the world. Yet it’s still technically illegal in many places around the world. And I admit I am one of many who are uncomfortable with public breastfeeding (whether it’s me or someone else).
To which, may I say, WTF?! Right now during the day Louisette needs to be fed every two and a half hours. A single feed takes up to an hour. So if I want to do anything without breastfeeding, I need to do it in under an hour and a half, including transport there and back. Imagine your life in 1.5-hour chunks. Could you even get to work and back in that time?
A part of me wishes I was the kind of woman who would just breastfeed in public any time I had to (without suffocating Louisette in a modesty blanket), and therefore help to open doors for other women to be able to feed their infants AND have a life. For our society (including, frankly, me) to feel comfortable with breastfeeding, we need it to happen, and happen a lot of times a day. But it’s not a fight I’m willing to join – for me, it’s just too hard.
Here are a couple of photos from Blue Milk of women I admire. I’m proud to say that the second is a politician feeding her kid in my own home town of Canberra. Thanks to her, Parliament House has now become an accredited workplace for the Australian Breastfeeding Association.
*Blue Milk is a feminist/parenting blog. Because of open discussions of sex, sexuality and violent sex, it is not safe for young or sensitive readers.
Steampunk Forums
Like to talk to other steampunks? There are forums at Brass Goggles and Steampunk Debate. Thanks to Silver Goggles for the blogroll links.
I’m not super familiar with any of those three sites, so you’ll need to make up your own mind whether you like them or not. In the meantime, here’s Louisette Discovering Her First Device (she is too young to even realise her hands belong to her, so I placed the ring in her hand to see what happened):
A time to write
Every so often I meet a moron. Here’s how it goes:
Them: You’re a writer? me too!
Me: Oh, what do you write?
Them: Oh, anything really.
Me: What are you working on at the moment?
Them: Wellllll. . . . at the moment I’m studying/working/waiting for inspiration.
To which I say (silently): Bah!
And I’m not the only one.
If you don’t WANT to write – don’t. If you don’t have the time to write – don’t. Live a happy and productive life. Just don’t pretend you and I have a major life purpose in common.
Writers write. Mostly because they can’t help it.
Right now, for example, I should be feeding my infant. Excuse me.
“Across the Nightingale Floor” Lian Hearn’s Otori trilogy book 2 of 4.5
Tomasu is a boy, an innocent member of a village in which the Hidden live peacefully. The Hidden believe that all men are equal before God – putting themselves on an equal footing with the greatest members of the warrior class. For this dangerous and insulting belief, they are hated.
The rest of this review is at Comfy Chair, where I get paid for it.
Felicity Banks 