As San Diego Comic-Con 2K13 fast approaches, enjoy a very apropos excerpt from Jennifer Susannah Devore's The Darlings of Orange County. The setting: The Banshee Pub in Uptown Manhattan. The action: a meeting between our heroine Veronica Darling and her prospective, new agent, Darby Elliot Stone, Esq.

In the 237 summers which have come and gone since July 4th, 1776, the date has increasingly become a juncture for white sales and auto dealer blowouts. In fact, lost amidst the mall madness and car lot carnivals is a simultaneously fascinating and pedantic period of committee meetings, assignations, rewrites, copies, messengers, vote-taking and gallons of coffee, ale and wine. As I currently scribe the fourth novel in my six-part, historical-fiction series of books, Savannah of Williamsburg, Independence Day takes on a more front-and-center appearance than usual as research takes me through the 1750s, well into the meaty burgeoning of colonial revolution.

The Wild West of 1850s southern California never saw WonderCon coming. Originally an agricultural collective of pious, German farmers and vintners, Victorian Anaheim would have plotzed at the site of The Joker, Jawas, Hobbacca and G-stringed Supergirls crossing Katella and Harbor, headed into their Anaheim Convention Center. Although, he might have appreciated some of the more inventive steampunk costuming, 1857 co-founder George Hansen must have just come to grips with Disneyland when WonderCon steamed into town last year. This year, it descended upon the O.C. once again and, if Hansen's ghost gets his wish, it should be headed back up north, to San Francisco's Moscone Center for 2014. If the rest of us get our wish, parent company Comic-Con International will permanently add this southern substitute, WonderCon Anaheim, to its regular menu des plaisirs.

Once upon a time there was a talented, sparkling, beauteous rocker named Leah Cevoli from the City of Brotherly Love. One day, in the historical land of Ben Franklin, The Barrymores, Will Smith and Liz Lemon, the fair Leah heard the Siren’s Song knell through Philadelphia’s brick corridors and colorful tulip gardens. Taking the form of The Black Crowes so she alone would hear it, the song trilled, lilted and riffed amidst the city streets, beckoning her independent and creative soul to the land of plenty: plenty of sunshine, plenty of sea, plenty of opportunity, plenty of cabbage, plenty of thee.

An able, disinterested, public-spirited press, with trained intelligence to know the right and courage to do it, can preserve that public virtue without which popular government is a sham and a mockery.

-Joseph Pulitzer

Whilst May 5th, Freedom of the Press Day, is still a few weeks away, this week in April is notable for a formidable individual whom strove throughout his life to keep that freedom strong, well-trained and powering forward like a Wild West steam engine thrusting across our vast nation.

Publisher Joseph Pulitzer was born April 10, 1847 in Budapest, Hungary. Emigrating to America toward the end of the Civil War, he fought with Union forces for a short period; yet, thankfully for us, battlefield horrors soon took a backseat to what would become a lifetime of inky fingers.

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No Voltaire-styled, Twain-pithed or New Yorker-length posts here today. Simply a bit of fabulous, a smattering of so many things I love, all rolled into one savvy and styling auto advert: Rococo style, 18thC. sartorial flair, classical ballet, Baroque opera, a thumping techno beat, silk mules and, if you know my writings well, anthropomorphic animals in Vogue-worthy vestments.

Bravo, Kia Soul! Your funky, furry, Hail Fellows Well Met might get me into a Soul yet: black, to be sure. To boot, this is just the kicking beat I need to light that Sun King-caliber firework under my tapestry-festooned panier to keep working on Book IV of my Savannah of Williamsburg Series of historical-fiction novels: Savannah of Williamsburg: Washington's Folly and The French & Indian War, Virgina 1755.

Amusez-vous bien, mes amis!

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What's hotter than our Astrid in her trademark uniform of bikinis and Uggs? Astrid in a rat mask, of course!

Any question as to what the hottest couple in Encinitas, California, our very own Pardo and Astrid, (Of The Darlings of Orange County fame: book now $2.99!) will be up to this summer? Pack your Uggs and rat mask, Astrid. It's the annual Rat's Cup in Biarritz, France, along La Côte Basque. Bikinis, boards, booze and the Rat Patrol. Who knows? Maybe the Kia Soul Hamsters will even be there. Now that's a party even our Miss Savannah Squirrel might attend. Maybe.

 What's hotter than our Astrid in her trademark uniform of bikinis and Uggs? Astrid in a rat mask, of course!

Any question as to what the hottest couple in Encinitas, California, our very own Pardo and Astrid, (Of The Darlings of Orange County fame: book now $2.99!) will be up to this summer? Pack your Uggs and rat mask, Astrid. It's the annual Rat's Cup in Biarritz, France, along La Côte Basque. Bikinis, boards, booze and the Rat Patrol. Who knows? Maybe the Kia Soul Hamsters will even be there. Now that's a party even our Miss Savannah Squirrel might attend. Maybe.

I spent a month in Biarritz one week. My Viking and I explored the beaches, bars and casinos with frightening speed and agility. It helps to have beaucoup d'euros; but ce n'est pas necessaire. The beach is the beach and a drink is a drink, no matter where you live or where you travel. To quote Ethan Hawke to Winona Ryder in 1994's Reality Bites, "You see, this is all we need. A couple of smokes, a cup of coffee and a little bit of conversation. You and me and five bucks."

Salut, mes ratons! See you this summer!

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Fresh from the art department once again, The Darlings of Orange County 2013 New Year's ads, Part 1: "Downright Filthy" & "Leaking Silicone".

Kids,  I don’t get too much mail here at The Del. Being dead and all, who’s going to send Moi anything? With the exception of occasional postcards you good pips send me here at the Hotel del Coronado -keep ‘em coming, babies!- mail call is pretty quiet around The Del for yours truly.

Still, along with the odd postcard, and some of them are quite odd, especially those from Texas, I do get unexpected packages once in a blue moon. Today, I received a small, padded envelope with a CD in it. There was no note with it, no greeting, merely a crude marking on the CD itself which read, “Consider yourself warned”.

Jeepers creepers! The return address read only “League of S.T.E.A.M.“!

“Supernatural & Troublesome Ectoplasmic Apparition Management, indeed! How rude! I have a right mind to send them a very sternly written letter. However, I am even more of the mind that my online blathering has finally called too much attention to not only myself, but my dear friend Dr. Lucy. It seems to me, we’ve got some ghost hunting types here in the hotel and, what with Hallowe’en fast-approaching, my guess is these steampunk monster hunters are gearing up for Samhain Scandals! Well, they’ll never catch me! Ha ha!

This, btw, is what those real monsters sent me. Pay close attention after the 3:00-mark.

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Damn it, Lucy! I know how much you enjoyed playing with that new EOS Canon Rebel. Still, didn’t I tell you that if we were going to go play at Comic-Con, that we had to lie low? Especially in the SyFy Press Room? As dear old dad, Dr. Harvey, would say, “Oi vey, Lucy!”.

Fortunately, I shall be out of town for the Holidays: home to good ol’ Beantown and spooky Salem, Mass for some Hallowe’en haunting about the Hawthorne Hotel; and, Lucy shall visit her dear Dr. Devorkian up in Napa this All Hallows’ Eve. Let’s see the League of S.T.E.A.M. find us now! (Oh. Wait. Damn it, Hannah!) Well, at least now the League shall have to dispatch their tiresome, hyper-weaponed gnats to New England and Northern California, as well as wherever else their ne’er-do-well activities take them here in Southern California.

Shame on them, nettling and tweaking the likes of Lucy and Moi! Funny enough, now those half-portions in Ghost Adventurers and Ghost Hunters International don’t seem so bad.

Monster hunters take note! Perchance, you are not aware of she with whom you dare to dance! I swing a mean cocktail bag, kittens!

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"I still don't get it, Jennifer. What the heck is Steampunk?"

Voila, the de rigueur response from most when hit with a steampunk reference. Nebulous, querulous Steampunk. Briefly? 'Tis an anachronistically-based, alternate-existence, period-shod, fantasy world wherein steam power industry mixes bombastically with the funky, sharp vibes of modern technology ... plus a lot of airships, corsets, leather tophats, octopi (weirdly), 6" granny boots and fingerless gloves. "Quod the quod?", you cry. No worries. It doesn't actually matter. It's just a bit of stylish fun.

Steampunk is a weird and wild wedding of fashion, decor and technology flanked by the bridesmaids of science-fiction and fantasy. It's a mad, mad, mad, topsy-turvy swirl of Victorian-era British Colonialism, the American West, 19thC. Industrial Revolution and NASA. If Charles Dickens, Gail Carriger, Jules Verne, Walt Disney, Dr. Michio Kaku, Edward Gorey and Tim Burton co-recreated a Gilbert & Sullivan musical, you'd have Steampunk, sort of. Lift your opera glasses and have a peek at Xerposa: All Things Steampunk.

For a more intellectual exploration, take a few moments and treat yourself to Science Channel's Prophets of Science Fiction, specifically the Jules Verne episode. Dr. Kaku himself will help guide you through the leaves and pages of Verne's Victorian-futuristic literary themes.

Anyhoo, whilst Gwen Stefani's L.A.M.B., Vivienne Westwood, Betsey Johnson and Ralph Lauren have been giving us teases n' tastes of the Victorian-fantasy look for years, Prada, with the help of Gary Oldman, Garrett Hedlund, Jamie Bell and Willem Dafoe, now gives us a four-course, sartorial feast with the Fall/Winter 2012 line of menswear ... steampunk inspired, clearly. After viewing the dapper, magically digital spectacle above, spot a bit o' ladies' steampunk through your spyglass at Clockwork Couture.

Need an altogether visual? Portlandia, as it does with all its targets, spoofs it best: Steampunk Convention. (A little too spot-on!) What's your fave steampunk mode: literature, film, fashion designer, photographer, or artiste otherwise? Share with Moi!

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