Who’s My Hero Now?

(Apologies in advance for my woeful lameness in posting pictures. Everyone else here can make theirs line up all nice, but I just can’t.)


A few years back, two friends and I started working on a fun historical project, a writing collaboration that was almost as much fun to write than it was to talk about.


That got tabled, but is now back in my sights, and so all of us are back on board again, trying to knock out some words so we can show people what we got.

As I’ve realized (and talked about a lot), I cannot write a compelling character unless I have a rock-solid image of the person in my head.

So earlier this week I went to Twitter, and asked:

Suggestions for a male actor who’s lanky, tall, intellectual-seeming, kinda nerdy, but secretly hot? Bonus pts for a brunette.”

And, boy howdy, did I get a lot of replies.

Just to give you a taste of the guy (so to speak), here is how we’re first introduced to him (this may change, but it works for me thus far):

Damn it. Where the hell was his cravat?

Last time he knew he had it on was when he was tugging at it, when he was doing his translation. Right before Lulu arrived.

Aristotle surely didn’t have these kind of burning sartorial questions. Even more than usual, he envied the ancient Greek; all he had to deal with were those flowing robes, perhaps a sandal or two; now, Society demanded he wear several items of clothing, which usually meant he walked out on the street frequently missing a jacket, or a hat, or gloves. Gloves. Even the word made his jaw clench.

Gloves were the devil’s bane.

Christian frowned and ran his hand through his hair.


And after all the looking, I ended up with Matt Smith, the new Doctor Who.

Now I just have to find my heroine.

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