Oh, my relationship with all-things-Wonderland runs deep, and stems from as far back as I can remember; traipsing about my grandparents’ mansion as a young girl, pretending that I was wandering a world far from this one.

It’s no wonder that my masterpiece would be a derivative works — for those unfamiliar, known as Hunting Alice, soon to be an audio drama series and broadcast on the Internet.

This, strangely enough, is not about that … exactly. This is about something else. Deeper. The roots of Roulette, in some sense. While I am always aware of myself, I do have momentary lapses of … treason? No. Season? Hmm, not quite. And ‘reason’ doesn’t cut it, since they’re not always unreasonable; but they do change me.

There are many people milling about in my head — many of which whom are my own creations, and present themselves in my fiction works. But sometimes, I get a bit too method. Certain characters, unfortunately, are so deeply ingrained within me that when something triggers them (or someone) it’s all I can do to keep firm hold of myself. It’s just so otherwise natural to slip into the masque of someone else.

(Yes, this is why I did so much theatre in my youth. Why, had I my druthers, I would be an actress as well. Moving on.)

One such character is Dr Penderan Fauste. That’s a name you’ll be hearing much more often, you can be sure of that. While it’s new to you now, it’ll one day be uttered with such casualness you’ll hardly remember the time in which he was a non-entity. Do mark my words; it’s not hyperbole.

Fauste is a funny sort, though. Trouble is, while I am his writer, I’m unable to ever assimilate the character completely. I must always entrust him to another (which I recently have, and could not be happier.) Alas, something incredibly curious takes place once that … vessel has been found. His counterpart, soul-mate — the yin to his yang — the other side of the coin — does fight to take hold of me: Riley Wingate. (Another name you’ll soon know, well, though not as readily as Fauste.)

She is the Alice for a chaotic, modern world; a controversial heroine, and inquisitive investigator of the strange, curious existence in which we find ourselves, and cursorily term ‘reality’. Regularly, she’s a wonderful person — very compassionate, empathetic, and … a bit unaware of the depth of the tumult around her. She tends to find herself at the heart of massive conspiracies which serve to unhinge her sanity, disturb her inner peace and leave her a very different person than she started out.

Of course, according to my brain, there is a kind of chronology. In some sense, being that I have written all five novels, and I do know the ending of our strange tale, Riley does not appear as easily to me in her earlier, innocent stages. She comes out in full-force as what she has become: something powerful, and in many cases, to be reckoned with — quite carefully.

This doesn’t work in my everyday life. She’s too much; too intense, too forthright, too dominant, too antagonistic. If her world is not perfectly ordered, she just about blows a gasket. (And not quietly.) All of the docile, peace-keeping, harmony-seeking, submissive years which left her bewildered, brokenhearted, and forever changed are long gone. One extreme to the other.

Yes, yes, I know, I know. It does seem the story of my life, does it not? To constantly seek the balance. That’s Riley’s journey — and it appears it’s mine, too. Days like these, when she comes to me so easily, tend to remind me that I’m not there yet. She’s still disturbed, still seeking resolution, closure — some sense to why her world was so casually destroyed; why the only one that seems to care about the fact that she was left to gather the pieces, alone, was — no doubt — her.

There’s an anger there; a rage, unsatisfied. Powerful, and a bit frightening. She is my dominant side, strangely enough — and she was born of a sort of enforced submission. A requirement to be gentle, appease, placate, and be at the beck and call of others. She was never such to begin with, and when her dominant side came into being, it did not do so quietly. (Of course, to tell you more, I’d spoil the whole thing. You should read the books instead — and well, purchase the audio drama episodes on iTunes when it premieres; that particular scene is brilliantly presented in the audio drama — if I do say so myself.)

And, yes. The whole thing is very, very kinky.

At any rate …

I fear there is much that is resonant — and reminiscent — with me, and my own. That, in many ways, she is my means of coping. She is the tangible existence that my own journey is underway. And I remain just as perplexed and unaware of where the destination is to lead.

So, while we are engaged in demo recording, script revisions, rehearsals, and intensive characterisation — bear with me, as there may be many days like this, where she overtakes my good sense, because a part of me is too enthralled with the notion of just giving in.

It will be curious indeed.

Stay tuned.

Tags: alice in wonderland, being a domme, Being A Sadistic Bitch, charles dodgson, cyclothymia, dominance borne of submission, hunting alice, lewis carroll, method acting, not for human consumption, penderan fauste, riley wingate, the 8th square series, the roots of dominance