American Girls are Weird, or The Desolation of Lexxx’s Ovaries

imagesCA1Y3W1LSo y’all know I’m a fangirl right?  If you don’t then obviously this is the first time you’ve ever visited my blog.  I mean, yes, I’m a writer of steamy romance, but every girl has to have a muse right?  Besides, reading the same three posts over and over about how GREAT my books are and where I get my ideas is just boring as hell.  So I often digress into prattling on and on about various and sundry pop culture obsessions.  Okay, so maybe just #Benedict Cumberbatch (like that hashtag?  hehe.. I made it myself).  So let me start off by telling why I like him.  I mean, there are many folks out there who don’t get it.  He describes himself as looking like a posh alien and in a way he does I suppose.  My sister, Lucy Blue, once said that he looked like he was some kind of alien shapeshifter who only had some vague idea of what a human was supposed to look like.  Ben (why yes, I like to be on a first name basis with my muses), has also said that his long face and neck generally implies some kind of inbreeding.  If that’s so, then truly incest is the best.  Honestly, I think he’s ethereally physically attractive.  I like striking features, what can I say?  But all that aside– that is only 5% of why I like him.  Ok, maybe 10%.  The rest of it has absolutely nothing to do with what he looks like.

1:  I’m a sapiosexual and that boy has an impressive brain.  He has a command of language and it’s obvious that he does not get his world view from the crawl on Yahoo.  Watching him being interviewed, while he usually seems at ease and is always personable, you can see him thinking.  When he talks about reading books, you know he’s telling the truth and not just being photographed holding them because he can talk intelligently about them. Upon being asked which ones are his favorites, they are not trendy books that EVERYONE has read, but books for which a movie hasn’t been made.

2.  Talent.  If you’ve been living under a rock and haven’t seen any of the movies/ television in which Cumberbatch has appeared this year, then you have to check one out to see what I mean.  I mean, we all have actors we think are good:  Russell Crowe, Tom Hanks, Meryl Streep, Daniel Day-Lewis.  And those folks are great, but holy shit— I’ve never seen anything like BC (yeah, he’s got his own abbreviation too. shush… get yer own!).  I’m a theater nerd from way back and was, in fact, on a slow moving train wreck to being an actress myself (story for another time).  So I feel pretty snobby when evaluating actors.  If they aren’t good, I can’t be bothered.  Even if they look like they were carved out of cream cheese, I just can’t like them.  I’m not naming any names (ahem… James Franco…) but if you can’t act, don’t be an actor.  Your angelic face and heavenly body will be lost on me.  This is why I can’t get excited about Magic Mike 2 (I didn’t even see the first one) or The Fast and the Furious franchise.  Honestly kids, go and find the BBC movie about Stephen Hawking.  Cumberbatch plays the title role and his portrayal of fear, sadness, determination, genius, elation and hope– even without dialogue– is just breathtaking.  And don’t get me started on the physicality that role demands.

hawking

CLICK HERE to watch part of “Hawking.”

 

3.  And he’s a nice fucking guy.  When did this become such a rare commodity?  He’s always polite (even in situations when, by all rights, he probably shouldn’t have been), personable, quick to compliment, funny, tolerant, and just a genuinely nice person.  He doesn’t take himself too seriously and knows that fame is fleeting.  He strikes me as a guy that, although he’s quickly becoming a superstar, would still shop at your grocery store and help you get something off the top shelf if you asked (this is important to me– I’m only 5’2″ and have T-Rex arms).  And as of yet, we haven’t seen any stories about him beating the shit out of some schmuck who put their cell phone in his face to snap a picture while he was standing at a urinal taking a piss.  And yes, he’s reached that point in his celestial path where people have made him an unfeeling object.  People who would have no trouble whatsoever in walking up to him and snapping his picture at point blank range without so much as a “hello.”  And the fact that he hasn’t clobbered someone yet speaks volumes.

Okay, now that I’ve finished gushing, let’s get to what brought this to mind today.  I was reading a site called Celebitchy today, having followed links, and got to a page that was talking about Ben’s recent stint in Malaysia (he hosted the Laureus Awards and did some presenting for the BBC at the Formula One Championship last weekend).  The article was snarky, but complimentary for the most part until it got to the end where the writer was talking about how he seemed to be trying to “butch up” his image and I thought— wait, what?  “Butch” up his image.  As if he’s been effeminate up to now?  And then I thought– ohhhh…. American girls are weird.

We seem to be having some kind of cultural crisis in America right now, ladies and it’s time we talked it over. It seems to me that over the past several years, we’ve taken a real swan dive in the qualities we value.  It seems that we can’t be bothered with men who aren’t impossibly beautiful (as in photoshop beautiful), cut like Greek statues or adults.  That’s right, I said it.  In our Red Bull guzzling, not going to work so we can play video games, teetotalling, Frat Boy arrested development male culture in America, we seem to have forgotten what real men are.  So now we’ve decided that any man who dresses like an adult (meaning he wears a freshly laundered button down shirt or dress pants or God forbid– a suit), shaves regularly, combs his hair and has a real job is gay or effeminate or a snob that thinks they’re better than everyone.  And I’m so sick of it!  I love men.  MEN.  Not boys.  And Benedict Cumberbatch is very obviously a man.  Just because he prefers a gin and tonic to Budweiser should not imply that he needs to “butch up.”

Isn't he cute!

Isn’t he cute!

As an aside, my husband combs his hair every day, wears clean clothes and has a real job.  He also has a Master’s degree in history, a funny accent and an IQ well over 140.  He doesn’t like racing or video games though– maybe he needs to butch up his image.  #NothingToDoWithWriting

The Objects of My Affliction, or When I Realized I Was a Weirdo

me and amy (2)Men.  I love ’em.  I mean, I really love ’em.  I love men of all shapes, sizes, ethnicities and persuasions.  However, this week I’ve become extremely aware that my taste in men is really strange.  Many of my feminine counterparts seem to have very definite ideas on what is sexy and I just don’t get it.  After reading a post on Facebook today about “GQ’s British Men of the Year,” and with the news of Charlie Hunnam being cast as Christian Grey, I’ve been thinking a lot about what makes a man sexy.  The conclusion that I’ve come to is that I’ll never be a wildly successful, billionaire romance novelist because I just don’t get the appeal of some of these heartthrobs. Then I thought, well perhaps these folks just need a little education, Southern Belle Style.  So I’ve compiled a little list of my current panty sweaters.  Feel free to comment and add your two cents.  After all, it’s a free country.

1.  Benedict Cumberbatch.  If you read my blog at all, you’ll know that this is 1000573_490362137720823_1050310338_nNOT a surprise at all.  Folks in the U.S. have just discovered this little piece of limey goodness after his run in the new Star Trek movie, but BBC Sherlock fans have known what a smoldering sex god he was for years.  He’s got a funky name and inexplicable hair, but he’s got one thing that so many of our cream cheese icons don’t:  talent.  I’m a former theater brat and therefore very sensitive to talent, or lack thereof.  The man could believably play a cardboard box in the story of the invention of cornflakes.  When he speaks, you can look in his eyes and tell that he’s thinking, figuring things out. That is, if you can notice anything but the way his purring baritone sinks its teeth into those consonants.  During a “Hollywood-fu” instruction on an episode of Top Gear, he made the statement, “I like to be the dominant one.”  We believe it and he doesn’t even have to wear a ridiculous leather harness or a silver, herringbone tie.  He just is.  And then there’s the numerous documented instances of his incredible kindness, generosity and grace.  He’s just a class act and you can’t help but love him.

ewan-mcgregor-kurt-cobain-movie-1-17-072.  Ewan McGregor.  I owe so much of the happiness in my life to Ewan.  My writing career really began with Moulin Rouge fanfiction, and through that I met two of my best friends in the whole world.  Which was truly miraculous, because I met them at a time in my life when I was in transition from being a college kid to a grown-assed woman and feeling exceptionally lonely.  Ewan’s killer smile, boyish charm and of course that sing-songing Scottish brogue inspired me to write a story that was good enough to gain a following.  That positive feedback gave me the courage to try this writing thing for real.  So, thanks Mr. McGregor.  He has this fearlessness and approachability that real people can relate to.  He’s probably never going to make anyone’s Fashionista list, as he sometimes appears to have just grabbed whatever was in the top of the laundry bag.  His body, while nothing to sneeze at, doesn’t bear the marks of 20 hours a week at the gym.  He looks like he could give a really nice hug.  And that, to me, is extremely sexy.

3.  Christian Bale:  Aaah… part of my namesake.  Yes, kittens.  My parents did Christian-Bale01not name me Alexandra Christian.  The night I finished my first novel, Hellsong (coming soon in a new edition from Ellora’s Cave), I was trying to find a pseudonym.  I was teaching 2nd grade at the time and I didn’t think that if the powers that be found out I was writing sexy books about angels and demons falling in love in my spare time that they’d be happy.  I knew I wanted to use Alexandra– my father is an Alexander, but what goes with Alexandra? I looked around and happened to see my copy of The Dark Knight dvd sitting on the coffee table (I was nursing a healthy obsession with Christian Bale at the time). And it was an Aha! moment to end all Aha! moments.  By the by… both Saraqael of Hellsong and Marek from the upcoming Beast of Burden were inspired by the raw power of Mr. Bale.  The truth is, I’ve had a bit of a crush on him since I was ten.  A baby Shakespeare nerd, my older sister had me watch Henry V.  Bale was playing Robin– the kid that Henry carries, dead, off the battlefield at Agincourt (hold on… I’m tearing up).  He was twelve, I was much younger and immediately in love.  Then, over the course of my childhood and teenaged years I saw Newsies, Swing Kids and Velvet Goldmine (Frankenstein in drag!!) and my love only grew.  Now, he’s a big, burly guy who is, by all accounts, temperamental and cranky.  Being temperamental myself, I can sympathize (you’re trashing my scene!).  That kind of passion can only translate to really hot sex.  Sorry.  I’ll  need a moment.

OK… I just realized that I’ve written more on this blog post than the last chapter of my WIP.  So I’d better shove off, now that I’m all hot and bothered.  Ladies and gents, feel free to disagree if you like– the comment space is all paid for.  But let me leave you with two final thoughts—

1.  A meathead in a suit is STILL just a meathead.  And 2—

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