Today I have the pleasure of welcoming Gail Carriger, the author of Soulless. The book is out this week A fantastic mix of historical romance, paranormal, urban fantasy, steampunk and comedy of manners.
Characters
Sometimes, in the days (months, years) of query letters (boy did I write a lot of them) I would worry about how to describe my own writing. It's a fine art, trying to sell yourself, but there was one phrase I never failed to use: character driven.
I adore writing characters, it's my absolutely favourite part of being an author: the invention of new people and the revisiting of old friends. Some authors get annoyed when a story is hijacked by a minor character, I love it. I like caricatures that I can break down or twist suddenly into something unexpected. I like silly quirks and strange mannerisms, sinister aspects and hidden secrets. I draw pictures of my characters. I give them magazine quizzes. I invent elaborate back-stories that never make it onto the page.
I adore writing characters, it's my absolutely favourite part of being an author: the invention of new people and the revisiting of old friends. Some authors get annoyed when a story is hijacked by a minor character, I love it. I like caricatures that I can break down or twist suddenly into something unexpected. I like silly quirks and strange mannerisms, sinister aspects and hidden secrets. I draw pictures of my characters. I give them magazine quizzes. I invent elaborate back-stories that never make it onto the page.
This may have to do with the fact that I like people. In fact, I kind of collect them. My house tends to be the party event venue, the sleep over spot, sometimes known as Grand Central Station. Mine is a real life peopled with highly colorful characters, they have leaked into my stories, whether I like it or not.
As a terribly side effect, I have a terrible habit of falling on love with my side characters. I think a lot of writers have this happen. Oh, don't get me wrong, I love the hero and heroine too, but there is something so delightfully comfortable about a minor butler or best friend who slides in, quips something Wilde and witty, and then exits in a plume of verbal sophistication.
Ms. Carriger began writing in order to cope with being raised in obscurity by an expatriate Brit and an incurable curmudgeon. She escaped small town life and inadvertently acquired several degrees in Higher Learning. Ms. Carriger then traveled the historic cities of Europe, subsisting entirely on biscuits secreted in her handbag. She now resides in the Colonies, surrounded by a harem of Armenian lovers, where she insists on tea imported directly from London and cats that pee into toilets. She is fond of teeny tiny hats and tropical fruit.
Alexia Tarabotti is laboring under a great many social tribulations. First, she has no soul. Second, she's a spinster whose father is both Italian and dead. Third, she is being rudely attacked by a vampire to whom she has not been properly introduced!
Where to go from there? From bad to worse apparently, for Alexia accidentally kills the vampire, and the appalling Lord Maccon (loud, messy, gorgeous, and werewolf) is sent by Queen Victoria to investigate. With unexpected vampires appearing and expected vampires disappearing, everyone seems to believe Alexia responsible.
Can she figure out what is actually happening to London's high society? Will her soulless ability to negate supernatural powers prove useful or just plain embarrassing? Who is the real enemy, and do they have treacle tart?My review
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