My .1 Second of fame...

Well, in the category of the several random jobs I shuffle while writing books, background work is one of them.

Gossip Girl is one of the many shows that film here in New York.
(I was a member of the press on Law and Order recently too. The original one. The Mothership, they call it.)

At the beginning of this clip, right after Blair and Serena walk through the door, look behind them; and whee, there I go! It was a fun day on the set!

Thanks to my dear friend Marianne Mancusi for first posting this on the Rebels of Romance blog!




Leanna on Gossip Girl! from Marianne Mancusi on Vimeo.

Blog Action Day: Poverty - Victorian London

It's Blog Action Day!

Today Bloggers all over the world have signed up to talk about the issue of Poverty.

Now as this is my book blog, most of what I know has something to do with what I put in my books. In regards to blogging about poverty, I recalled some of my research into Victorian England in preparing my debut gothic fantasy novel THE STRANGELY BEAUTIFUL TALE OF MISS PERCY PARKER. I also talk about poverty and class disparity in my Magic Most Foul saga, set in 1880 New York City, beginning with DARKER STILL: A Novel of Magic Most Foul.

THE STRANGELY BEAUTIFUL TALE OF MISS PERCY PARKER and much of the Strangely Beautiful saga takes place in 1888, during Jack the Ripper's "Autumn of Terror". My book deals with haunted individuals, documented London ghosts, the actual sites and particulars of Jack's murders, set against my own fantastical inventions. But it's important to know where Jack struck. Whitechapel. The 'wrong side of the tracks', as it may have been.

Just after Jack the Ripper's murderous frenzy, the following year Charles Booth published an incredible work. A map of London Poverty in 1889.

Here's just one of the many plates, and this is the area where most of my 'action' takes place, right around Bloomsbury (following the above link to the interactive map allows you to zoom in, this is just an example of one plate and the legend):

Red is Middle-Class/Well-to-do.

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During initial research, I found a newspaper article that came out just after one of Jack's murders in August of 1888, lamenting that if there had just been more Gas-lit or those new Electrically lit streets, none of it would have happened... Just more light... Some of the murders did take place outside, one in Mitre Square, in what couldn't exactly be called a courtyard, under cover of complete darkness. The author of the article lamented that there was no light to banish the demons terrorizing the unfortunate.

Notice how in the above map, the widest streets are the most "Red" and well-to-do. Those would also have been the streets that were Gas, and not too far forward in the future, Electrically lit. Maybe the author had a point. So how does any of this relate to our modern day poverty situations? I always think having a knowledge of history lends context to the present. Desperate situations often get to a point that a horrific event like Jack the Ripper or an influential piece of reporting can begin to turn a tide of public awareness of social problems. For New York's Lower East Side, HOW THE OTHER HALF LIVES - published by Jacob Riis in 1890 was a key in turn-of-the-twentieth-century legistlation for housing laws, where a populous was confronted with the visual ravages of poverty in Riis' incredible photos and illustrations, just as Victorian London was confronted with the gruesome deaths of many "unfortunates" just two years prior.

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I'm no politician, I'm an author. So I, in a distant echo to Jacob Riis, can only perhaps offer a brief window into poverty, as I do in THE STRANGELY BEAUTIFUL TALE OF MISS PERCY PARKER.

Here's how my hero, Professor Alexi Rychman, has to confront Whitechapel, in pursuit of "Jack":
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From Chapter 11:

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"Into the dark and dirty underbelly of London Alexi plunged on horseback, spurring his stallion Prospero into the depths, seething with anger and hungry for knowledge.

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Areas of London passed before his eyes that he liked to forget. Urchins, beggars and streetwalkers beckoned him, undeterred by the terror singularly targeting their neighborhood. He hissed at their advances, stricken by their plight.

-

One particular young woman, barely more than a child, called up to him asking if he wanted company for the evening. Alexi grit his teeth.
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“Find shelter, for God’s sake! Don’t you know something terrible is on the loose?!” Alexi cried, flinging coins onto the street as he passed.

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“I know, Sir,” the consumptive waif in a torn gown called after him, darting to a cobblestone to pick up his offering. “But I’m starving, I’ve got no choice. Bless you for the shilling, sir.”

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Alexi reared his horse suddenly and turned back to the form silhouetted in the dim sulfur light of a distant lamp. She, thinking perhaps she had procured a client after all, looked up at him with a practiced, inviting look that was far more desperate than attractive. He shook his head and emptied the entirety of his pockets into her hands. “Find as many of your lot as you can and spend the night in safe shelter.”
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The hollowed young woman gazed up at him in awe, past locks of hair piled haphazardly beneath a moth-eaten bonnet. “Are you trackin’ ‘im, then, good Sir, are you the detective?” she said, her small voice strengthened by hope.

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“Of sorts, dear girl,” Alexi replied, taking the reins in his hand to dart off again. Her besmirched hand reached to stroke the black horse’s warm neck.
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“Then you’re our guardian angel tonight, Sir,” she breathed. Alexi could neither acknowledge the sentiment nor look her in the eye, knowing he could never guard all such poor wretches society cast onto the streets.

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“Don’t take long, and don’t part company,” he said gruffly, and started off.
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“I won’t sir!” She cried. “Bless you, Sir. I was a friend of Annie Chapman, may she rest in peace, by God she’s lookin’ out for me by sendin’ you this night!”

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The name of the ‘Ripper’s’ second victim rang in his ears as he plunged towards a peculiar light down near a train yard. Instinct told him that the beast that nearly killed Elijah earlier in the evening was the sole source of Whitechapel’s sorrow. Instinct also warned it may be ready for another atrocity.

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Street lamps ended at Commercial Street and Whitechapel Road. Alexi had forgotten the fact, because when summoned to these depths of darkness in the course of his Great Work, there had always been ethereal light to guide his way. Spectres always cast their own illumination. But tonight, the sector was black. Even the ghosts had been frightened off…
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These wards were the poorest, the most hopeless, the dregs of those who had come to a city seeking better than their countryside could offer and finding no love nor shelter within the bosom of the Empire. The heavens must have felt a bit of pity for the clouds thinned to allow a dim grey moonlight to filter over the city. It was just enough light for navigation, but only at a slow plod. Prospero stamped impatiently, his hooves pounding against the cobblestones or messily splashing in muddy puddles.

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Turning a wide corner, just inside the dim, sooty haze of Duffield’s Yard, just off a set of train tracks, Prospero halted his heavy tread.
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Alexi caught the sight of something amorphous rustling in a space between miserable brick buildings. He could only make out sounds, because there was a black hole ahead of him, a pitch black deeper than night itself, snuffing out all existence; the terror of Whitechapel…"

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(end of MISS PERCY PARKER excerpt)

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I hope you'll take a moment today to remember the Annie Chapmans of the world, and other victims, then, and now.

This blog needs more fluffy animals... And so I bring you Willis!

Hi friends!

As my blog's title suggests, fluffy animals are to be found here, and I've been slacking on the fluffy animals department of late (save for the ghost dogs photo below).

However,

I recently met the coolest, spunkiest and fun creature! Willis, the Dog with the Blog, courtesty of the Humane Society of New York:

What a character!

In my quest for random employment, I do some part-time work at a TV studio, where I meet cool people and things (Like the Muppets- see Best. Day. Ever. post).

Dr. Marty Becker, famous Vet extraordinaire and really nice guy, was in the studio promoting his Ultimate Cat and Dog Lover Books, which are great, with Willis dancing about (well-behaved, mind you, but dancing) on his lap.

Be sure to check out Willis' blog for adorable photos, great animal welfare tips, and heartwarming stories. He's a therapy dog, a tool for educational outreach, and a superstar. And considering he was found wandering about Staten Island all alone, he's a trooper too. Make pet adoption your first option.

Persebunny agrees:

Hi, I'm a fluffy-cute rescued lab bunny, and I approve this message.

A Halloween Awareness Month Public Service Announcement brought to you by Leanna Renee Hieber and the Rebels of Romance

I feel so strongly about Halloween Awareness Month I even did a PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT!




Thank you to the Rebels of Romance for hosting this very important message.

It's Halloween Awareness Month

Ladies and Gentlemen,

I don't know if you have realized this, but it is now October.

You know what that means?

Halloween Awareness Month. That's right! H.A.M.!

(no pigs were harmed in the making of this Public Service Announcement)

October 31 always creeps up on me and I just never get enough of this, my most favorite month! Savor it! Make it last the whole year long!

Remember, this month, as my hero Severus Snape says: (Thanks Marianne and Chris for bringing me this tidbit of yum)

(whether it's a typo or lol-speak here is immaterial - the message is clear, and my love is abundant.)

Now Get out there and enjoy HALLOWEEN AWARENESS MONTH!

Thank you.

This message has been brought to you by Concerned Citizens for Halloween Sanctity, PAC

My first Guest Blogging! Come play!

Hello friends!

It's my first guest blogging and it would really make my day if you
could bop on over to WeWriteRomance and tell me YOUR thoughts on the Brain-Soup! When does reality not seem real to you?

Yes, I fear I've been on a Brain-Soup kick of late,



it's just where I am.

Come on over and tell me where you are!

NY is funny and I'm in the Brain-Soup

That's it. From now on, I'm writing down striking things I hear on the streets of New York for posterity, contemplation, anger or amusement. Today: Amusement.

The scene:
Adorable one-ish year old little girl in burgundy velvet dress being held up by Dad as she tests out walking her little, bare feet on 28th street. Mother approaches, grinning and bending down to daughter.

Quote from grinning Mom to said child:

"This isn't Burma! You can't walk around without shoes in Manhattan!"

Now this phrase has its truths, and its untruths. True, 28th street is not Burma, and I also agree that you can't walk around barefoot in Manhattan.

But personally, I think the maximum amusement potential of this quote comes from the fact that it's not Burma anymore, it's Myanmar.

(Left: proposed new flag of Myanmar)

(Unless you listen to the BBC. They still call it Burma. I assume because they can't quite get over the fact that they're just not the same 'sun never sets on the Empire' anymore, so maybe Mum was a Brit. I couldn't tell with the baby-talk-tone colouring her voice - see, I put a 'u' in colouring. I'll be the first to admit to severe Anglophile tendencies so don't think I'm being a hater here. Either I had an awesome or a traumatic past life in England because the land calls to me like a Siren. And my upcoming book is set in London, as a matter of fact. However I shall call the former land of "Burma" Myanmar.

My friend Jeff Tanenhaus, travel-writer and photographer extraordinaire adores Myanmar and has taken incredible photos of the land and the beautiful people. (Note, many photos of Myanmar show strong evidence of shoe-wearing).

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Another recent, great "Only In New York" moment, I was escorting my dear friend, talented actress/singer Kate to her bartending gig at the St. James theatre, and she leads me in through the darkened house of the Broadway theatre, where only the single Ghost Light is on the stage. It's a neat and eerie thing to see, the Ghost Light:

Mesmerised by the Ghost Light, hoping to see and actual ghost, I trip and fall in the dark and cavernous space.

We giggle like kids tresspassing.

All the while we are serenaded as Tony award winning actress and awesome diva Patti LuPone warms up for Gypsy by belting her guts out two floors up.

I get to see the show next week!

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Still another momentous Only In New York moment?

Walking into the offices of Dorchester, my coveted, debut "New York publisher" for the first time last week! I could be all suave and say I wasn't excited and giddy, but that would be an outright lie. My eyes were sparkly.

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Okay.

In other news. Now comes the part where Leanna admits she's being a space-cadet.

So where have I been?

...That's right, my friends.

The Brain-Soup...

I'm in the midst of edits for my upcoming 2009 Dorchester release THE STRANGELY BEAUTIFUL TALE OF MISS PERCY PARKER. And I have to shift major emotional arcs for my main characters because my editor is really smart and it will be a better book when done. (He is smart, I'm not just saying that because I'm still sparkly-eyed, it's true.)

To do this with any degree of decency, (I'm clothed while I edit, get your mind out of the gutter) or skill, I have to be really IN it. THICK in Victorian England. THICK into my character's heads. A Soupy kind of mental thickness. Going into the world that I love so dearly (I really, really love it) is great. It's the coming out of it and back to real-world that kinda sucks. I work as a tour guide and there are moments when tourists blink at me and ask me where the Empire State Building is and all I want to do is shake them and say "DON'T YOU PEOPLE UNDERSTAND I NEED A CUT-SCENE BETWEEN CHAPTERS SEVEN AND EIGHT AND I DON'T CARE IF YOU MISS YOUR FERRY TO THE STATUE OF LIBERTY..."

*sigh* I never say that. But I want to.

I've described my state of Soupness kind of like the Matrix... where all those green binary numbers just keep scrolling... scrolling... And that's the pages of my book in my head... scrolling and I'm in that wierd bullet-time where Neo can alter stuff, and I swoop one scene in and swoop another one out as it all just keeps scrolling and I could look at it forever...

So that's where I am. Brain-Soup. And where are you?