Even Back Then, Corn Syrup Was Good For You!


I am well aware that I am  not writing.  But rather than recycle old posts, it’s more fun to provide these vintage ads (even the ones without sexy men).  I’m far too busy flogging my novel, “The Abortionist’s Daughter” , available at fine e-platforms everywhere.

Your faithful correspondent’s favorite part is that they are trying to pass it off as honey. Bee Hive, my perfectly shaped behind.

Ciao, Elisa & Fletcher

Fan Fiction For Dummies – A Glossary

I am still going through “House MD” withdrawal, as you can imagine.
With the recent scholarly discussions on fan fiction (fiction written by fans of television shows, movies, computer games and coloring books), your faithful correspondent felt there should be a sort of glossary of terms.  Naturally, given my predilection for “House, MD”, this is my jumping off point.
The first thing one needs to know is that the show’s fans, both insane and regular folk, like to use portmanteau names (the first of them all being Bennifer for Ben Affleck and Jennifer Aniston).  This means a relationship is there, usually romantic or sexual or both. Personally I don’t care for them, but it breaks down to:
House + Cuddy – Huddy  (Hugh Laurie & Lisa Edelstein)
House + Wilson – Hilson (Hugh Laurie & Robert Sean Leonard)
House + Cameron – Hameron (Hugh Laurie & Jennifer Morrison)
And so forth.  It doesn’t matter whether or not it happened on the actual show; these are ways for “shippers” to identify themselves.  Although many prefer the more adult “House/Cuddy” etc. As you have probably gathered from this blog, I myself tend to prefer the House/Wilson friendship.
“Ship” is short for relationship.  Every possible character combination has come up in fanfiction.  Homosexual romance and/or sex is called “slash.”Heterosexual romance/and or sex is called “het”.  Just romance is called “fluff” and usually means a light, cute story.  There are popular genres known as “hurt/comfort,” and “smut,” respectively.  I hope these are self-explanatory.
Now, dahlings, there are various genres of fanfic…there are actually hundreds, but first I shall confine myself first to some spedific House/Wilson “fic”genres.
“mpreg” Male pregnancy. One of the men (usually Wilson) has a baby and he and House raise it.  Don’t even try to wrap your mind around this.
There’s a subgenre of one or both of them being babies, or turning into babies.
Almost all have lots and lots and lots of sex.
Babies?”  “Don’t blame me, I live in the writers’ heads.”
“Post-Finale” Since the finale was left open-ended, with House and Wilson riding off into the sunset, there has been an explosion of fics in which House copes with Wilson’s death, sees his ghost, or cures him.  Some are quite amazingly good.
 “Contractverse” A series of stories based on “The Contract,” where House is tortured and traumatized in exchange for keeping Wilson alive (of course Wilson doesn’t know it).  Later stories have House a physical and mental wreck. I’ve glanced at these, but to be honest, they turn my stomach. 
BDSM – you know what that is.  Readers can ask where to find stories where House or Wilson is “the top”, etc.  For some reason, Wilson is usually the one dominating or humiliating House. 
Speaking of which, some writers write House/Wilson in abusive relationships, usually because the writers themselves are in abusive relationships.  Or concentrate on child abuse, which usually means House collapses into a sobbing heap having an epic flashback,weeping, “No, daddy, I’ve been a good boy!”
Basically, the entire panorama of human experience is filtered through these stories, making this kind of fiction even more id-driven than romance novels. 
Two other genres that are common to many fics of all kinds are:
“First Time”bazillions of these.  Most are much of a muchness.
“AU” – alternative universe.  Anything that doesn’t directly relate to the events or locations of the show.
From a small sampling of House/Cuddy “fics,” it seems that the concentration these days is to depart from the show’s plot and have the two characters in an established relationship.  Usually raising Cuddy’s daughter Rachel.  Some of the show’s best and most realistic fanfiction has come from this neck of the woods, in my opinion.

There are also a fair amount of “first time” fics. And lots and lots and lots of sex.
I have never read a House/Cameron fic, so I don’t know the content or genres.  If any writers would like to enlighten me, please do so in the comments.  But I’m sure there’s lots and lots and lots of sex.
There also seem to be quite a few “femmeslash” (lesbian) stories involving Cameron and Thirteen (Olivia Wilde).  Since Thirteen was bisexual on the show, it makes a certain sort of sense.
 Probably a fair amount of sex, don’t you think?
Recently my assistant Leo was reading some fanfiction.  He remarked to me, “But this has nothing to do with what happened in real life!”
I agreed with him, until I remembered that “real life” was a television show.
Elisa & Fletcher

Have A Helping Of My Novel – Excerpts

I am taking the supreme risk: I am publishing two excerpts from my novel.  “The Abortionist’s Daughter” has been selling nicely on Kindle.  So I am sharing it with you, my darling readers.  
Both are from the first section.  The first excerpt takes place after Melanie, age 22, has first met James, at the local ice cream parlor.  The second is a flashback to her childhood.

Study Of A Young Woman

James took a step closer to her, bent slightly, and kissed her on the lips. Melanie froze in confusion. She knew what she was supposed to do—­slap his face and call him names—but that wasn’t what she wanted to do. Not at all.
 ‘How was that?” he asked, dropping his voice. He looked into her eyes.
 “Are you making love to me?”
 “I liked it,” she replied, tilting her face up for more, thrilled with her own daring.
 I’m glad,” he murmured.  He kissed her again, his lips soft, his mouth tasting of a hint of split pea soup. He put his nose in the hair just behind her left ear and took a deep breath.  The feeling of the tip of his nose on her skin was electric.  It had been so long—years—since she had felt a man’s touch.  And that had been back at school, before the trial, chastely clumsy kisses in cloakrooms and in stuffy parlors. 
“’You smell so good,” he said, and kissed her again. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”  He lifted a finger and gently slid it from her chin to the top of her collar.  Melanie quivered.  She was afraid to make a move. She was awash with pleasure such as she had never known. She knew what she was supposed to do.  Melt against him (that was the alternative to slapping his face), but she couldn’t.  Her hands hung uselessly at her sides.

“James, you shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispered.

 “I know.  I can’t help myself.”  He kissed her again, a long, slow, lingering kiss.
 “Please—please stop.”  Her words came out as a little gasp.  She didn’t want him to stop. 
 James took a step back, smiling, holding her arms.  “You are a peach of a girl, Miss Daniels.”
 “Thank you.”  Melanie averted her face.  “I don’t know what you must think of me.”  She wanted him to kiss her again!  And again and again.
His left hand ran up and down her upper arm.  She felt as if little shivers of desire were following along with it.  “I think very highly of you.  That’s why I kissed you.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I’d like to see you again, Miss Daniels.  Soon.”  The hand closed around her upper arm.
It was an outrageous request.  He had taken liberties with her.

“I’d like that.”


When she was eight years old, one bright late Spring day, Harold Clarice, a classmate, had come up to her in  the schoolyard.  He had an ugly smile on his face. 

“My ma says your pa kills babies,” he announced
“Harold Clarice, you take that back!” Melanie demanded.
“Your pa’s a baby-killer,” Harold repeated.
“You clam yourself!”  She felt her face burning hotly.
“Baby killer!  Baby killer!”
“You just clam yourself!”

In a rage, Melanie lashed out at Harold, smacking him in the mouth.  Harold stared at her in shock for an instant, then leapt upon her, flailing with his fists, and they both fell to the ground, biting and punching.  Instantly the other children were around them, screaming delightedly, “Fight!  Fight! Fight!”

“What’s going on here!  Children!”  Miss Chipman, their teacher, stood over them.  Melanie quickly disengaged herself from Harold.  Her white dress was torn, its pink sash hanging in tatters.  Her blonde hair had been pulled from its ponytail and hung loosely at her shoulders.  Harold’s shirtfront was covered with dirt, and blood ran down his chin.  Their classmates hung back, fascinated. 
“She started it!”
“Did not!” 
“Did too!”
 Melanie knew Harold dared not repeat his taunt; he would be punished for using such language. 
Either the other children hadn’t heard him, or didn’t risk saying it themselves.  Miss Chipman made both Harold and Melanie sit in opposite corners facing the wall for the rest of the afternoon.  Melanie was grateful that her teacher didn’t inquire further into what had started the fight.  She had a feeling that Miss Chipman knew.

And there you have it, mon chers.

At the risk of bragging, here are some Amazon reviews.  If you don’t believe me, go here.

“Don’t start reading this wonderful tale if you have anything else to do for a while. It will grab you and keep you enthralled.”

“If you liked An Awfully Big Adventure and/or Tipping the Velvet, definitely give this one a shot!” 

“The author’s evocation of that time period, the abundant showbiz details, and the personal politics of abortion all made it very rich.”

Do both of us a favor and pick up my book at Amazon.  Oops.  Seeing that it’s on Kindle, do download my book.  You’ll thank me later, and I will thank you now.


Elisa & Fletcher