Interview with Steampunk inventor, and soon to be author, Ben Lanzenstein

One of my goals in writing the weekly steampunk hybrid blog/story “Books by Authors Who Never Existed” is to add links to Steampunk fans. Ben Lanzenstein from Switzerland creates Steampunk objects, lamps and more. He is also working on a steampunk story. Below is a short interview with Ben.
His Instagram page is:   ben_lanzenstein

What sparked your interest in steampunk?

My eyes were opened to the fact that steampunk is my outlet to bring my inner world to the outside world. In steampunk, everything is possible and everything is allowed. There are no limits. Time is non-existent in steampunk, but nevertheless time plays an important role in this theme. People have their own world turned upside down and new connections are created in their brains. So to speak, their gears connect in their minds and are reawakened. This is important in today’s world where we are shaped with a dull and superficial education. The world forgets what is really possible through its consumption. We can draw our full potential in steampunk and find more of our own truth. Racism also no longer finds a place when we begin to understand ourselves and other characters again. As I said, steampunk allows me to experience myself and to animate my true character.

When did you start designing and creating steampunk vehicles and lamps?

4 years ago, when a precious friend opened my eyes to it.

Ben Lanzenstein’s invention
Ben Lanzenstein’s invention
Ben Lanzenstein’s Steampunk inventions

Are these for sale?

The objects come from my personal history. What is the point of selling them? Maybe to a special person who understands this world and is sensitive to these stories.

Can you tell us something about the steampunk novel you are currently working on?

It is an adventure novel. I am taking people on my personal journey and into a world that is new to them. It will be an unforgettable journey for everyone, and they will come out of it different than they went in. Whether the eyes and their spirit will see it depends on the openness of the person. For me, the story is particularly precious. But what is a treasure worth if you can’t share it. That is why I will publish it.

Will the steampunk vehicles and devices you design feature in the story?

Yes… not everything but some will have a special meaning in the story. First, I had to create something on the outside to activate the inside. And then came the word and the word is creation in pure essence. This is how my story comes into being…

Are there any steampunk authors or links you would like to recommend?

At the moment I’m not inspired by any authors. I want to bring the world out of me without distorting the image. But inspiration for me is also the world when I travel. Every place tells you a story if you are open to it. I am fascinated by people from all cultures. We are all human beings. Everyone is the author of their own life, but only very few have woken up to understand this. I wish every human being this insight. There is a fascinating world behind everything, which should be discovered…

Thank you for sharing your story Ben!

The Question of the Brass Faced Automaton [Part 6]

(Books by Authors Who Never Existed:  A Steampunk Hybrid story)

By the author of BARD: Owner of the Gemstone

Concept artwork

Chief Shabuni sniffs the air.  There’s a faint burnt rubber smell. 

“Toklo and Avonlea won’t be happy when they get back.  Oh, I hope they are safe,” he hears Mrs. Claws says, as she heads back up the stairs.

He sees Mr. TLC’s eyelids open wider.  The giant Maine Coon darts off into another room.  He hunches down and follows.

Sunlight shines through, where trap doors used to be.  There’re cracks in the bricks of the foundation.  He bends over and brushes dust away from a shiny object.  A silver gear wheel.  The ninjas used a steam concussion explosive to open the trap doors.  He looks around again and sees a piece of thick cast iron banding.  Mr. Toklo Claws, was determined to keep people out of the basement.  He would have to call the Square Nail Hardware store and have the trap doors replaced.  Right now, he needs to figure out what to do with the brass faced automaton.

Upstairs, he can hear the confident, clear voice of Inspector Harper, and the crasser sounding voice of Inspector Campbell, talking to a still very upset Mrs. Claws.  Chief Shabuni glances at Mr. TLC, whose ears are now perked.  In an instant the Maine Coon cat is bounding up the stairs.

As he ducks down to get up the stairs himself, he hears Inspector Harper making contemplative, “Hmm, hmm, hmmm,” sounds over and over again.

He walks down the hall, to where the automaton with the bronze face is standing.  Now surrounded by Mr. TLC, who sits with his tail wagging on the Silas desk, while Mrs. Claws speaks rapidly to the inspectors, while emphasizing her words by moving her hands around in a flourish.

He notices that the inspectors have removed the automaton’s hat and goggles, and unclasped the top of the automaton’s head.  Inside the head he seas tiny gears, a lit lighter with a rubber tube that leads to a fuel bladder, and pistons to pump water into the lighter to make steam.  However, the pistons are not moving.  Both the inspectors look up at him.

“Time to call the Clock Maker on Tic Tock Street,” he pronounces.

*** One of the goals for these writing experiments is to include makers, and models of Steampunk.  Ben Lanzenstein of Switzerland creates Steampunk vehicles, weapons, and more.  I will be posting a short interview with Ben in very near future.  Meanwhile, you can see his work at:  ben_lanzenstein

Random Thoughts: Writing and Censorship

Its hard to talk about reality “academically” while still conscious of how others may feel about it. An honest commentary on race in Africa and elsewhere.

The Missing Block of Ice [Part 5]

The Missing Block of Ice [Part 5]

(Books by Authors Who Never Existed:  A Steampunk Hybrid story)

By the author of BARD: Owner of the Gemstone

He’ll have to look into the mysterious ninjas later.  “Mrs. Claws!” he shouts as he opens the unlocked front door and ducks under the lintel.

“Here,” he hears her shout back in her fascinating accent.

“Here,” the wispy and tinny voice of Mr. TLC also says.

He smiles fondly at the giant Maine Coon cat.  Mr. TLC is perched on the desk in front of a man standing perfectly still.  “Anything, other than,” Chief Shabuni begins to say when he glances down at the still man’s face, and grimaces, and says with a groan, “A steam automaton.”

“A what?” Mrs. Claws asks.  She has her brass hearing horn firmly in her right ear.

“Missing,” Tobey says.

“Can you show me?” he asks.

The Maine Coon cat leaps down from the desk and heads towards the end of the hall.

“I hate the basement,” Mrs. Claw says with a groan.  She sniffs.  “That’s where Mr. Claws kept the things, he discovered in Arcticterra.  Like that creepy ice pane.

In the basement, Chief Shabuni stares at a large rectangular area on the cement floor that looks cleaner than the rest of the cluttered floor.  Very similar in size to what the ninjas were carrying.  He notices Mr. TLC also staring down at the spot.

“Ice that not melt,” Tobey says.

“Ice that won’t melt?” Chief Shabuni asks.

“My husband brought back a pane of what looked like ice,” Mrs. Claws says.  She glances around furtively.  “If you touched it, it felt wet, but once you took your hand away, there was no moisture.” She places her left hand against her chest and gasps for breath.  “Sometimes.  Sometimes you could see something in the ice.  That’s why Siku went back.  He wanted to find out where the books came from.  Something about a portal.”

Chief Shabuni knew Mr. Claws did a lot of exploring after he retired from the navy.  Now he wondered exactly what Mrs. Claws meant by, a portal.  He would have to ask her, right after he calls for backup. 

He takes out his quarts phone and connects a thin hose attached to a bladder of water in his overcoat’s pocket.  Next, he flips open the brass lid.  He spins its tiny crank until steams pours out of a tiny exhaust pipe on the top of the phone.   After a while, a greenlight shines where the quartz crystals form a star shape in the centre of the phone.

He taps out four numbers on the copper keypad.

“Yes,” a very precise, tenor voice answers.

“Justin, I need you and Linda to meet me at the Claws house.”  He hangs up.  The two Inspectors make a strange team.  Justin Harper and Linda Campbell are physically opposites.  Justin has skin so dark it has a blue hue.  Combined with his aquamarine eyes, people tend to stare at him.  A benefit for an inspector, because people also tend to never lie to him.  Justin also has a lean face with an aristocratic nose.  Linda in contrast is short, squat, and buxom, with a flat nose and flaring nostrils.  Her dark brown eyes make her skin look even paler.  Her skin is nearly as pale as his own.  Almost, but no one has ever tried to eat her for the magical properties a true albino supposedly has. 

Mini demonstration of proper posture and body mechanics for the lat pulldown machine.


dwpersonaltraining

Mini demonstration of proper posture and body mechanics for the lat pulldown machine.



Taylor Norris, RMT and I are designing an exercise video course. We went to Fetter’s Fitness to video a bunch of instructional video clips. https://www.fetterfitness.ca/
(519) 502-4511
Soon the gym will be relocating to:
41 River Rd. East, Kitchener, Ontario
#fitness #exercise #exercisecourse #latpulldown

A Loud Noise and Chief D. Shabuni [Part 4]

A Loud Noise and Chief D. Shabani [Part 4]

(Books by Authors Who Never Existed:  A Steampunk Hybrid story)

By the author of BARD: Owner of the Gemstone

Chief Dimoso Shabani

Tobey presses his face against the glass pane of the attic’s window.  He watches with interest, as a very tall man, wearing tinted goggles, and a dark violet stovepipe hat with a badge, walks towards his house.  

The man dwarves everyone he passes.  Few reach the shoulders of his storm blue overcoat.  The man’s pale, albino face is accentuated by the stiff uniform collar that hides his neck.

Chief Dimoso Shabuni is one of Tobey’s favourite people.  Huge, like himself, Chief Shabuni is also contemplative, and has the ability to pounce at any moment; just like him.

As he watches out the attack window the entire house shakes.  Tobey has to claw onto the frame not to fall off the windowsill.  Once the shaking subsides, he dashes downstairs.  The bronze faced man is still standing with his clamp hand reaching for one of the special books.  Mom is holding onto a chair gasping, but seems fine. He glances around.  A few vases are knocked over, and pictures hang at a slight angle but nothing seems to be missing.  He dashes around the rest of the house until he gets to the basement.  Where the slab of ice used to be, is now only a small, ornate box.  Tobey hisses.

***

Chief Shabuni blinks behind his goggles.  The Claw’s house just shook before his eyes.  He sees four figures wearing black body suits and green tinted goggles race towards a running steam engine truck.  He also notices that each one has a katana belted to their waists, and another along their backs.  On their shoulders they carry a rectangular object with two, two-by-six planks. 

Mr. TLC and the Book Stealer [Part 3]

Mr. TLC and the Book Stealer [Part 2]

(Books by Authors Who Never Existed:  A Steampunk Hybrid story)

By the author of BARD: Owner of the Gemstone

Mr. TLC and the Book Stealer [Part 2] (Books by Authors Who Never Existed: A Steampunk Hybrid story) By the author of BARD: Owner of the Gemstone

Tobey scurries over to his adopted mother.  All four feet of him leaps onto her lap so that he’s staring eye-to-eye with her.  He swats her sewing needle towards the inanimate, brass man.

“Oh, Mr. TLC,” she chastises him with a mixture of her Mexicoterra and Irishterra accent.  Then she goes completely still.

Tobey sees her mouth open in shock as she notices the man with the clamp hand.  For a moment nothing happens.  Then his mom shoos him off her lap and fists her sewing needle.  He follows her as she cautiously walks towards the strange man. 

With her free hand she pokes the shoulder of the brass man.  Nothing happens. 

Tobey swipes the man’s left calve.  Still, there’s no reaction.  He jumps on the Silas desk in front of the man and sits there staring.  Out of the corner of his eye, he sees mom grab her ear horn, and head towards the brass and lacquer candlestick phone. 

He whacks the brass man again and waits.  Nothing happens.  He can hear mom talking to Chief Dimoso Shabani.  The Chief’s tiny voice says he will be over shortly. 

Tobey leaps off the desk and rushes up the stairs to the attic window to watch for the Chief.  His ears twitch constantly, so he can hear what mom is doing on the main floor; and if the brass man starts to move.

Mr. TLC and the Book Stealer [Part 2]

(Books by Authors Who Never Existed:  A Steampunk Hybrid story)

Mr. TLC and the Book Stealer [Part 2]

(Books by Authors Who Never Existed:  A Steampunk Hybrid story)

By the author of BARD: Owner of the Gemstone

Tobey dashes down the rest of the stairs and jumps onto the Salinas desk with the bookcase of special books that mother keeps as a reminder of father.  Through the arched entranceway to the living room, he sees mother reclining with a knitting needle and yarn.  She seems very complacent.  He yells at her in human but her brass ear horn is inconveniently lying on top of a night table.  One of the doorknobs of the front door creaks open.  There’s no time to physically warn her.  He hisses at the door.

The door opens and the man walks with determined and heavy steps directly towards the books.  Tobey waits atop the Silas desk because it’s directly across from the front doors.  He notices an hourglass attached to the belt on the man’s top hat.  The grains in the upper section are almost all gone.  The man’s clamp hand reaches towards one of the books.  Tobey swats it away.

Again, the man raises the clamp hand, and again, Tobey swats at it.  The steam coming out of a pipe in the man’s top hat is wispier now.  The clamp hand shakes as it tries to raise as the last grains of sand settle on the bottom of the hour glass.  The mechanical arm of the clamp hand drops to the man’s side.

Tobey swats the man’s face as a reminder of his supremacy.