Vicky Loebel's Blog, page 5

Wednesday Wisdom

1920s References in Speakeasy Dead: Dance till you Drop

If there’s one nearly everyone knows about the 1920s (apart from Prohibition), it’s that people loved to dance. Even the men, as any reader of F. Scott Fitzgerald can attest, were keen on donning the “soup and fish” (tuxedo), and taking a spin around the ballroom.

Add this to an obsession with fads and a general agreement that you could never get too much of a good thing, and it’s no surprise to learn that Alma Cummings’ widely-publicized feat of dancing 27 hours straight on March 28, 1923* sparked a wave of dance marathons that lasted well into the 1930s and provided a livelihood for thousands of contestants, venue managers, nurses, and associated workers.

By 1924, a typical marathon ran 24 hours a day with breaks of up to 15 minutes per hour and could drag on for weeks as radio reporters, newspapers, and a ticket-buying audience savored the drama of who’d be the last man–and woman–standing.

1923 Dance Marathon via Library of Congress

Clara’s initial plans to hold a dance marathon as part of Speakeasy Dead had to be modified to allow for the fact people in the story were mostly interested in the star-studded party taking place across the street. Fortunately, she engaged the services of silent film star Beau Beauregard to attract ladies to the contest. Unfortunately for Clara’s cousin, Bernie, this left him the job of taxi-dancer, a man (or woman) employed to dance with customers in need of a partner.

The Taxi Dancer. Joan Crawford, 1927

The term taxi dancer wasn’t strictly accurate, in Bernie’s case, since Clara had no intention of paying him.

*From The 1920s by Kathleen Drowne and Patrick Huber.

1920s References in Speakeasy Dead: Coal Chutes and Mary Janes

I read once that you could tell an old lady by her frumpy, old-fashioned shoes, but when I look at footwear from the 1920s, I have to wonder. In the blink of an eye, the high-topped lace-up boots of earlier decades vanished in favor of strappy high heels, sleek pumps, and (the infamous) flapping galoshes, any of which (except the galoshes) might be at home on a dance floor today.

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Did unbuckled galoshes give “flappers” their nickname?

Take these Alfred J. Cammeyer pumps from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, dated 1925-1930. I’d wear ‘em.

Of course, young flappers were more likely to wear a T-Bar, or strapped shoe that would stay on while dancing with abandon. Luella Umbridge, the most affluent young woman in the mythical town of Falstaff, AZ, wears velvet/metallic gold shoes like these 1925 Perugia strapped pumps.

Shoes like this were often called sandals

Clara Woodsen, on the other hand, is both poorer and more tied to family tradition. As the story opens, she’s wearing conventional Mary Janes.

So where does the coal chute come in? Does anybody even remember these holes in the sides of buildings that received a weekly delivery of fossil fuel (and occasional burgler)? Coal furnaces were falling out of fashion by the 1920s, but the Falstaff Ninepin Fellowship, built in the 1890s, hasn’t converted to oil. Bernie and Clara drop through one by way of sneaking into the basement.

Luckily, the coal has been swept up for summer, or those Mary Janes would have gotten decidedly dirty.

Bernie’s a bit of a clothes hound, so it pained him to pair the old baseball uniform Clara instructed him to wear with a utilitarian pair of rubber-heeled Oxfords.

1922 Georgetown University Baseball Uniform

1920s Mens Oxfords

I’ll conclude with a couple of pairs of 1920s shoes neither Clara nor I will ever be able to afford. There are loads more examples on Pinterest.

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What if Lee Pace had played Gatsby?

I rewatched The Great Gatsby last night…er parts of it…er actually I bit the bullet and figured out how to use my son’s xbox-one controller so I could fast-forward through most of it.

Despite everything, the movie has a lot of potential. I didn’t mind the updated music people squawk about (though I wish the women’s costumes and makeup had been more period). And I didn’t object to the over-the-top parties, which I credit with trying to convey the feeling of the roaring twenties to a modern audience.

Baz Luhrmann clearly understands Fitzgerald’s book. He lovingly brings to life themes of ash heaps, all-seeing optometrists, and green lights, and he captures the seedy nature of Gatsby’s connections which — the first time I read Fitzgerald’s obscure “drug store” references — whizzed right by me, at least.

The problem is, Luhrmann also capture’s Fitzgerald’s flaws. The characters in the Great Gatsby are jerks. Fitzgerald sneers at them at the same time as he admires them, making them out to be first charming, then disgusting, and finally telling us Gatsby’s a great romantic hero.

IMHO, both the reader and the viewer of the movie are left saying…huh? Romantic? This cold-fish, possibly a lunatic, we’ve been watching/reading about…Gatsby?

Well….yes. You can look back on his actions at that point and say “So that explains it! He’s obsessively noble and romantic!” But it’s too late because we didn’t fall in love with him along the way.

So what if Lee Pace had been Gatsby instead of Leonardo DiCaprio? I like DiCaprio and admire his acting ability, so this is not a slur on him. But what if Lurhmann had cast someone who oozes romantic intensity as well as being tremendously talented?

It would have been a different film and, I think, had all appeal this glittering misfire lacks.

The Middle of the Hobbit is Coming! The Middle of the Hobbit is Coming!

One pie to rule them all; one pie to bind them

OK, I admit it. It is the homey, English part of Tolkien (plus the second breakfasts) that I love the most, which is why I prefer The Hobbit (book) with its charming story to The Lord of the Rings, with its lists of which legendary king conquered whom.

I also adore pretty much to pieces. Sure,  is an unbelievable glamourpuss with a to-die-for voice, but would Sherlock be anything like the brilliant series it is without the solid competent dignity  of Watson? I think not.

So Hobbit + Freeman = ecstasy….right? Well…sorta.

I’ll go. I’ll admire the movie. I’ll have fun watching avidly for and listening for Benedict Cumberbatch to match wits with the thief…. But I think it’s faintly ridiculous that this book was padded out into three movie installments simply because Hollywood wanted three guaranteed blockbusters for the price of one.

Still, it’s bound to be fun, and if it’s the first movie ever released that’s only the middle of a short book…it’s probably still the best thing going.

Fantastical Blog Hop December 11-13

ALL OF WHICH is my clever lead-in to this week’s Fantastical Blog Hop. In honor of The Hobbit, a number of indie Fantasy authors (among which, yours truly) have banded together to promote our books and offer PRIZES – including a boxed set of LOTR/The Hobbit (books!), a $70 Amazon gift card, and 13 indie fantasy books.

Seriously good stuff. Check out the list of sale books and sign up for prizes  between now and December 13!

As part of this, my first-ever blog-hop participation, I’m also offering a my own prize – either a $10 Amazon gift Certificate or a free download of the audiobook of “Keys to the Coven” to one lucky winner.

To qualify for my drawing, do one of the following between now and December 13:

Join my Mailing List – I send out very occasional information about new releases and even occasionallier notices of prize-toting cross-promotions like this blog-hop.
Leave a comment on this blog. Tell me why the middle of the Hobbit is the best thing since sliced pages and not a money-grubbing Hollywood ploy, why Discworld could be the greatest movie franchise ever, or anything else that grabs your fancy.
LIKE my scintillating Facebook Page. I regularly feed it with stuff from more interesting and amusing people than myself.

Simple, huh?

I Read Fantasy Promotion December 11-13

In a haze of promotion mania, I’m also joining with the I Read Fantasy Facebook folks to offer discounts on indie fantasy AND more prizes. Drop by for more information, check out the 99-cent books, and line your pockets with gift cards. It’s a win-win-win-situation.

Happy Hobbitting!

As part of these promotions, my books Keys to the Coven and Speakeasy Dead will both be available as Kindle Countdown deals for 99-cents December 10-16.

1920s Reference Party

I admit it. I got to be something of a 1920s geek while I was doing research for Speakeasy Dead. I read stacks of books, watched every vaguely 1920s movie I could get my hands on, binged on Boardwalk Empire, Downton Abbey, Jeeves & Wooster, and more! By the time the book was done I’d made myself a mental 1920s pied-à-terre that I like to roar up to in my 1922 Nash touring sedan and visit every once in a while. And so by way of keeping the party alive, I thought I’d post a guide to the references in Speakeasy Dead, just for the pathologically curious.

If you’ve read the book, you may find these addenda interesting. And if you haven’t, why, what are you waiting for? More fun than laughing gas and—at a list price of only a couple of bucks—you get a genuine 1920s bargain!

Speakeasy Dead Historical References
Chapter One: Follow the Swallow/Al Jolson

All Speakeasy Dead chapters start with song titles from 1924 or earlier and most have something to do with what’s going on in the story. The song Follow the Swallow was popularized by Al Jolson, later of Jazz Singer fame. Like many Vaudeville performers, Jolson was known for performing in “blackface” – an exaggerated/comic African-American look achieved by covering the face with burnt cork – adopted even by black performers. (There’s nothing quite like the 1920s for unabashed racism…but that’s the subject for another post.)

Jolson reputedly had a bad temper and an insatiable need to be admired as even Eddie Cantor, who rarely has a cross word for anyone, gently remarks in his memoirs. Today Jolson’s performances sound hammy, but at the time audiences adored him and he is supposed to have had a commanding stage presence.

Did you know The Jazz Singer, released in 1927, wasn’t the first talkie? Only the first feature film originally presented as a talkie. Hollywood had been flirting with various sound technologies for years, as you can see in A Few Moments with Eddie Cantor, a cute example from way back in 1923. But the studios dragged their feet, partly because there were issues with quality, but mostly because they didn’t want to lose overseas profits by tying films to the English language. In fact, The Jazz Singer isn’t even all sound. It’s a hybrid silent/talking picture with a few sequences of dialog and six songs sung by Jolson.  There are several high-quality prints and excerpts  of The Jazz Singer available on YouTube.

Upcoming Events:

Next week I’ll be doing my first ever cross-promotions with other indie urban fantasy/paranormal romance authors. Speakeasy Dead will be part of a December 10-13 Kindle-Boards blog-hop, and Keys to the Coven will be included in the I Read Fantasy promo December 11-14. Both books will be Kindle-Countdown priced at 99-cents from December 10-16, and there will be lots of other discounted fantasy books available as well, so check back and click.

You don’t have enough to read on your kindle…right?

Want more?

Bill Bryson’s One Summer: America, 1927 has a good discussion of The Jazz Singer and talking pictures.

Sign up for Vicky’s Newsletter. Why? My new releases are value-priced at 99-cents the first three days after publication, especially as a thank-you to subscribers. I also occasionally join with other Fantasy/Romance writers to cross-promote — always at a discount, and always with PRIZES! You can’t go wrong!

One Autumn

I hate to admit it…I’m not a big book reader. After spending a big chunk of my day at the computer, Sitting down with text has limited appeal. What I have become is an absolute addict to audiobooks, and this has only become worse now that Amazon lets me buy the ebook/audiobook combo at a big discount and sync back and forth with my reading platform of choice–my iPhone–and get the laundry done at the same time.

Fortunately, we audiobook addicts have some cheaper (legal!) sources to feed our habit, but this isn’t about them, it’s about Bill Bryson, and his new book One Summer: America, 1927.

I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw this title. My favorite nonfiction-writer-who-reads-his-own-stuff and my historical-period-of-interest in the same listen? Click Buy!

The book is, as you might expect, a lot of information about 1927. Aviation and the various highly dramatic attempts to cross the Atlantic leading up to Charles Lindbergh feature prominently, as does the Yankee’s  (featuring Lou Gehrig and Babe Ruth)’s boffo baseball season. There’s some stuff about talkies, a bit about banking, and quite an interesting discussion of the probable guilt or innocence of Sacco and Vanzetti, a pair of immigrants convicted and executed for an infamous 1920 robbery mostly because the local police sheriff decided they were anarchists, but who may not have been as innocent as history has tried to paint them.

Obviously, one summer cannot really make a whole book, and Bryson does a nice job of filling in history before and after 1927 as needed. Even with that, the narrative groans occasionally under the weight of baseball (if you’re not a die-hard fan) and possibly other details. But Bryson’s a lively, engaging writer, always willing to tip a few sacred cows, and provides a fascinating window into an age when people thought things would be shiny and modern forever.

PS – For Bryson at his unbeatable best, try his audio reading of In a Sunburned Country - his affectionate and incredulous look at Australia.

 

Miss Congeniality

Hands up everybody who thought she’d clean up good

Not me but the surprisingly enjoyable 2000 film starring Sandra Bullock that flitted across my kindle during a rare interlude of insomnia last night. I say surprisingly because (a) I’ve never been a huge fan of Bullock’s cute-as-a-puppy persona, and (b) I usually find Hollywood comedies (dramas, action films, pretty much everything) soul-shatteringly predictable.

Miss Congeniality is predictable, but protected my soul from damage by dishing up two things I prize highly: great acting (puppies, everywhere, I apologize) and a witty script.

What’s more, this film includes women who talk to each other. Ever since I heard of the Bechdel test a few years ago (does the film include at least two women who talk to each other about something other than a man) I have been horrified to see how few commercial movies pass. Seriously. Almost zero. Very few even have two women with more than a dozen lines, let alone the full monty.

Let’s see…there was Alien. And Aliens. And Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day (which I love). And anything by Joss Whedon, who used to be sort of Indy and might not count. I’m sure there are more, but the percentage is depressingly small

True, what the women in Miss Congeniality talk about is girl stuff: baton twirling, calories, world peace, and rape. But it passes the test and does it in fashion I found light-hearted and enjoyable. At least in the middle of the night with my Kindle Fire under the covers.

Which, btw, has Dolby-3d-digital whatchamacallit beat to hell.

Nineteen-Twenties Nod

Clara Bow, somewhat mercinarily cast by Hollywood as Eleanor Glynn’s original “IT” girl, also made her living off of loads of talent and cute.

Here’s an adorable clip where she converts her shop girl dress into an emergency evening gown.

Zombie Comedies…Everywhere?

So…Having written a zombie comedy, I decided to start searching for a few. I did find some books that plopped into my TBR pile…but in the meantime, went looking for DVDs to pop into the machine.

The three staples of my previous zombie viewing were (not surprisingly) Zombieland (what’s not to love?), Shaun of the Dead (the scenes before he clues in on what’s happening are classic), and my favorite, Fido - a less well-known Canadian flick done in glorious mid-century style where zombies have, through the use of electronic collars, been turned into the ultimate status-symbol in domestic service.

Last night’s entry was another fun film, a Bollywood ZomCom called Goa Goa Gone, which chronicles the adventures of two losers who go off to a Russian Mafia Rave party on a mysterious island and…wish they hadn’t.

It’s pretty formulaic…floundering young men, team up with beautiful female and tough-guy pseudo Russian. But the characters are likable, the script witty, and there’s something genuinely hilarious (IMHO) in listening to Indians drop in and out of English (mostly to make snarky asides).

The world needs more snarky asides. It was an evening well spent.