Tag: cat

  • Taking Responsibility for Your Pets–Or Your Fictional Characters

    ZakAlmost three-and-a-half years ago, I had to say goodbye to my orange long-haired cat, Charlie. He was a wonderful cat, and sorely missed. But after a few months, I started thinking about how much I like having three cats and decided I would be open to the possibility of adopting another kitty.

    As circumstances would have it, a feral cat had kittens right outside my son and daughter-in-law’s apartment. My son and dil coordinated with a local cat rescue organization and planned to capture the kittens and bring them in. Sadly, they could only grab one before the rest of them scattered.

    Zak CuddlingStill working with the rescue group, they got the little kitten fairly comfortable with humans, then arranged for me to adopt him. Rather, they arranged for me to adopt her–there was a little confusion about gender, even after the kitten arrived at my house. It took me calling the vet and confirming that yes, she did a neuter and not a spay, to establish that the new addition was Zak, not Zoey.

    It had been a long time since I had adopted a kitten and a feral kitten was a…well, a cat of a different color. He lived in my office for a few weeks, and whenever something startled him (which was often), he would race into the corner under my printer, completely out of reach. He would burrow under the covers at night, keeping me awake. He would play fetch with a toy mouse. And sometimes he would hide somewhere in the house, terrifying me that he’d gotten outside and was lost.

    He’s now one of the best cats I’ve ever had, although at 13+ pounds, he can be quite a lapful. He still dips a paw into his water dish to lick it off and test it before drinking. And although he doesn’t play fetch, he’ll still run around the house carrying that mouse in his jaws.

    Awakening Final cover-sWhat does this have to do with fictional characters? Well, they may not be living, breathing beings, but they can be as complex and problematical as a finicky feral kitten. You have to consider characters them from every angle, and take as good care of them as you would that pet cat.

    How do you “take care” of a fictional character? You get to know them inside and out. You write dialogue for them that fits them, give them actions that are realistic for their personality, write a storyline for them that allows them to achieve the goals you carefully set up for them. You make them seem as real as that wide-eyed kitten I adopted.

    You don’t make them a prominent character at the beginning of the book, so your reader thinks they’re important to the story, then drop them partway through, never to be seen again. You don’t introduce them a hundred pages in, as if they’re an afterthought. If it’s a minor character that’s intended to have a small role, that’s okay. But even minor characters must be necessary to a story, and have their part to play out. They can’t just be dropped in and dropped out at a whim, any more than you would adopt a kitten for no particular reason, then return it a week later.

    Full CoverOkay, maybe I’m stretching the cat analogy a bit. I am this close to being a cat lady and could go on and on about felines until your eyes glaze over. But I’m also a fanatic about characters, about every one having a purpose, and each character behaving in such a way that makes sense. When a character acts out of character in a book, it spoils the story for me.

    So, cats or characters, make a commitment. Take responsibility. Give them the care and feeding they both deserve.

  • Desert Island Necessities (What does an author really need?)

    Ferry-2A sImagine, if you will, that your cruise ship hit an iceberg, encountered a hurricane or wandered into the Bermuda Triangle. You’ve managed to escape unscathed and have landed on a desert island all by your lonesome. Abundant food is everywhere, just waiting for you to pluck it from a tree or bush, but what will ease your loneliness? And if you happen to be an author like me, how will you get your work done (sorry, no slackers, even for the shipwrecked).

    While you sit on a beautiful sandy beach bemoaning the loss of that gorgeous sequined dress (or killer tux) that you’d planned to wear to the captain’s dinner, ten crates from the wreckage float up on shore. You check the labels and are delighted to discover that these boxes hold exactly what you would most want, both to soothe you personally, and to keep you on track writing your novel, all while trapped on a desert island awaiting rescue.

    So, what’s in the first five boxes?  Here’s my list, everything I need for personal comfort:

    1) Chocolate (preferably dark)

    2) An assortment of novels (science fiction, mystery, romance)

    3) An mp3 player loaded with music (classical, country, soft rock)

    4) A house-sized tent, complete with plush air mattress (a girl needs her comfort)

    5) A flare gun (a girl can also be practical)

    And for my author side:

    1) Chocolate (a necessity for all occasions)

    2) A solar-powered, water-proof, sand-proof laptop

    3) Word processor, dictionary & thesaurus software

    4) At least a dozen ideas (Mmm, probably won’t get those from a box)

    hp photosmart 7205) A cat to keep me company (and that one definitely shouldn’t come floating up in a box)

    So what lands on your white sand beach?  What would be impossible to live without on an isolated island? If you’re an author, what would you desperately need? Let me know in the comments.

  • My Dream Bookstore

    BookshelfThis week, YA Highway asks a very fun question:  Imagine you get to open your own bookstore. What would it look like? What kinds of books would you sell?

    It wouldn’t surprise me if 99% of avid readers and maybe 95% of authors have at some time in their lives fantasized about opening a bookstore. I certainly have. Even knowing how difficult running a small business is, even with how dicey the book business can be and how it’s changing so quickly it’s hard to keep up, I still dream about being a bookseller.

    hp photosmart 720So, what would my bookstore look like? Lots of shelves crowded with books, of course. Comfy chairs for readers to relax in while they’re considering a purchase. Maybe a couple of display cases filled with cool gift items, like dragon sculptures, and pewter wizards, and unusual jewelry made by local artists. And of course, there would be a bookstore cat.

    What kind of books would I sell? I’d focus on genre fiction. Plenty of science fiction and fantasy, a section for mystery, another for romance, a little horror. Books for adults, but also a generous offering of young adult and middle grade. Of course, a corner for wonderful picture books with a few toys for the little ones to play with while their parents shop. And I would emphasize diversity in all my offerings.

    I’d also have a full calendar of author visits. Set up chairs or throw pillows on the floor, have the authors do readings, or talk about how they wrote their most recent book, or about whatever they feel passionate about. I’d have a storyteller come on Saturdays for the little ones. I’d have fundraisers for local schools or other causes. I’d want my store to be a community center where people would look forward to visiting, and even though they could save a few bucks on Amazon, they’d buy at my store instead because it’s just such a wonderful place to be.

    Yeah, kind of a pipe dream. But if I’m going to imagine my own bookstore, I might as well imagine big.

    How about you? What would your bookstore be like?

  • Rent-a-Cat

    I’m heading down to L.A. tomorrow to attend the international summer conference of SCBWI (Society of Children’s Book Writers & Illustrators). Although I’ve been to three regionals since I joined the organization last October, this is my first time attending the big SCBWI conference. I’m really looking forward to it.

    As a former member of Romance Writers of America, I’ve been to several of their big annual conferences, so I have some idea of what to expect. There will be too many workshops to choose from (although this time I have a spiffy app to help with that), over-air-conditioned rooms, rubber chicken lunches, and bleary-eyed mornings spent groping for coffee.

    Although I’ve pubbed plenty of romance novels, my book Tankborn, due out in September, is my very first young adult. I still feel green-as-grass, wet-behind-the-ears about the children’s market. So I plan to do the sponge thing at SCBWI LA and soak up as much wisdom as I can.

    To save on expenses, I’ve entered into an “arranged marriage” (sounds like one of my romance novels) to share a room with a fellow SCBWI member from Kentucky. I’ve done that in the past at RWA conferences and it’s both weird and fun to spend a few days with a total stranger. (Of course, there was that one conference where I roomed with three other women and ended up going home with someone else’s panties in my laundry. Eew.) I’m thinking I’m really going to enjoy my time with Meredith in L.A..

    The hotel looks like a nice one and it’s in Century City, a very vibrant part of L.A. But like any hotel, it has one drawback–no kitties. I’m used to having three of them snoozing in bed with me, snuggled up beside me or maybe draped across my head or curled up at my feet. But I will be catless for the three days of the conference.

    Here’s what I think all hotels should provide–a rent-a-cat. They should have a collection of some nice, mellow orange tabbies, or couch potato torties. Hotel guests could reserve their kitty when they reserve their room. There could be pictures posted on the hotel website with profiles of each cat. The cat of choice would be waiting for the guest in their room when they arrive, ready for belly rubs and scritches behind the ears, more than happy to curl up in a lap.

    Yeah, yeah, I can hear your objections. Some people are allergic to cats. Won’t that be traumatic for the cat? And what about that catbox?

    Minor issues all to be worked out. Just as some hotels provide smoking rooms, they can provide “cat rooms” for the non-allergic. Kitties would be chosen for their laid-back temperament and would enjoy the attention of one and all. The hotel guest can clean the cat box since they likely have plenty of practice at home.

    Yeah, not ever gonna happen. But I still think it’s a lovely idea. My toes kept toasty by a cat. The sound of purring in my ear as the hotel cat uses my pillow as his bed. And then there’s that familiar cat hair in my morning coffee.

    Just like home.

  • Can You Be TOO Honest?

    To say I am a lousy liar is an understatement. I find it nearly impossible to even fudge the truth. In fact, sometimes I bore people to tears (or thoroughly confuse them) with my compulsion to include every detail when I’m telling a story. I’ve had to work hard to “edit” myself in conversations so that I cut to the chase, particularly when I’m chatting up complete strangers at a party or while on line at the store.

    I used to be alarmingly frank as a youngster. I’d open a birthday or Christmas present and if it was something I truly didn’t like, my face would tell all. I’d try to smile and say thank you, but my expression would have already spilled the beans with the gift giver. I’m more tactful now (thank God) and can screen my gut reaction. In fact, many times the gift that didn’t appeal when I first opened it becomes a favorite, so it’s just as well I hide my disappointment.

    I can also be rather annoying if I realize I haven’t paid for an item properly at the store. I’ve brought cashiers to towering rages because they gave me a penny too much in change and I insisted on giving it back. Sorry, ma’am, just trying to be honest.

    I didn’t make anybody mad, but I did complicate things today at WalMart. I had loaded my cart with cat food for my ravenous feline horde. You know how fussy cats are. I had to carefully hand-select the 24 individual cans of Fancy Feast to make sure they were all varieties Casper and Zak would eat. (Go ahead, dog lovers, laugh. The cat lovers understand.) When I got to the register, the clerk didn’t want to ring up the 54 cents times 24. He had to account for each of the 6 varieties I’d chosen.

    He finished ringing everything up and I paid, but the total didn’t seem like quite enough. I stepped just outside and counted the cans of Fancy Feast on the receipt. I re-counted a couple times. Sigh. I’d only paid for 21 cans.

    A lot of people (maybe most) would have just walked on, headed to their cars and forgotten about it. Actually, it’s likely none of those people would have bothered to count how many cans they’d paid for in the first place. But I did count and once I knew I’d underpaid, I had to go back and tell someone.

    First the clerk said, “Boy, you must really want to go to heaven,” then she suggested they just give me the cans. I would have been okay with that, but I was also perfectly fine with paying for them. In the end, someone rang up the three cans and I forked over the additional money.

    So, am I too honest? Is this more a compulsion to get everything to total up correctly or is it that I don’t want to cheat someone out of what’s their due (yes, even WalMart)? I doubt that I’m going to change anytime soon. It’s just something I’ve accepted about myself. But I do wonder sometimes if there’s something a little hinky about my impulse for extreme honesty.

    So, what do you think? Is it time I learned the art of the little white lie?