Back when I initially wrote The Journal of Angela Ashby it was missing one of the characters of the finished version. When my agent, Italia Gandolfo, and I were discussing the illustrations we were commissioning from Mister Sam Shearon, she said, “What about the cat? The fortune-teller would have a spooky cat slinking around.”

Cat O’ Lantern by Mister Sam Shearon.
To purchase a print of this image, please click here.

Sam had recently created the Cat O’ Lantern image, which is absolutely fantastic, so we added cat to the list of images, and I did another revision on the book to add a cat.

     The black curtain moved and something small and low to the ground streaked out.
     Mallory yelped.
     I followed its progress until it stopped near the tent siding, just out of the ray of light.
     “It’s okay, Mal.” I nudged her arm. “Look, it’s just a black cat.”
     The cat sat and stared at us through amber-colored eyes, unmoving except a rhythmic twitch of the end of its tail.

Once the cat was on the page in the fortune-teller’s tent it became one of my favorite characters in the book, popping up when you least expected it to. Ultimately, the cat became a manifestation of Angela’s conscience. I had a lot of fun adding the cat, Malachite, into the story.

Sam gave us an absolutely wonderful cover, spooky fortune-teller, ratty old tent, and all. But when we decided to add Angela to the front, I mentioned wanting the cat on the cover.

Italia nixed the idea of the cat because she didn’t want the cover to get too cluttered. And we left it at that … until now.

I don’t even remember what first prompted me to put the cat on the cover. I often work in photoshop creating images for different things, so it might have been for the Amazon exclusive hardcover version we just released, but once Italia saw the cat popping its head out from behind the tent curtain, she loved it. So just like the cat in the book, it has been popping up in everything I have been creating for Angela of late.

it is now in the header of the AngelaAshby.com site. My publisher also posted new images to the Amazon product page.

The cat being a part of the art for The Journal of Angela Ashby is not an earth-shattering event. In the grand scheme of things it is not even a speck on the timeline of life. But it makes me incredibly happy to see those wickedly eerie eyes staring out at the world. It looks so right. It is a decidedly small thing, but it makes me smile and improves my day when I see the cover image or any of the other artwork including it, so the happiness it brings gives it a value beyond gold.

And maybe … just maybe, it can be the conscience, or reminder to act with intention, for someone other than Angela. And that will be a huge thing indeed.

The post It’s the Little Things appeared first on Be the Cat.

Click to enlarge

I love the original cover created by Mister Sam Shearon — he captured the moment beautifully and with a release date of late September, with Halloween looming, the spooky vibe worked really well. But we decided we were missing Angela from the cover.

Once again Sam knocked it out of the park. Keeping the integrity of the original cover was important to us and he delivered that and more. It is a perfect representation of Angela’s tentativeness as she prepares to have her fortune told by Madame Vadoma.

What had once been fun and games, and something to tease her best friend Mallory about, was now all too real. Sam nailed the moment and I love what he did with Angela. She is very much how I picture her in my mind’s eye.

I love the feeling of the fresh new look. It gives the cover a little lightness in tone — after all, a book with a farting fairy is not all doom and gloom. And Angela looks as if she’s always been there.

Perfection.

For more information about The Journal of Angela Ashby, including where to buy, go to: TheJournalOfAngelaAshby.com

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In The Journal of Angela Ashby, Angela is smug when she see the crystal ball in the outer portion of the fortune-teller’s tent. To her, it confirmed her belief that the fortune-teller was a fake, despite the mysterious atmosphere. But as she looked more closely, she was a bit shocked to realize the crystal ball wasn’t clear, but cloudy. But the art of scrying only requires a reflective surface.

     A large lavender orb sat on a polished wooden base. I smirked. I should’ve expected to find a crystal ball in a fortune-teller’s tent. No fortune-teller would be complete without it. But the cloudiness of the orb surprised me because I expected the crystal ball to be clear. How would you see the fortune in something cloudy?
     As I gazed, shapes shifted in the orb. Whoa. I blinked and took a couple steps back. That was kinda freaky.

Have you ever tried to see the future or look into the past by gazing into a crystal? Have you ever used crystals to help you relax or meditate?

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Booths and tents were setup throughout any open or grassy area and wonderful smells of popping corn and cotton candy filled the air. Do they still allow that these days? Anyway, for me part of the fun was wandering through the crowd, people-watching, but at the same time picking out the things I wanted to do most. Because I knew I wouldn’t be allowed to do them all.

Funnily enough, I simply accepted I wouldn’t be able to do all of the activities — without realizing the school carnival was one of the big fundraisers, right alongside it’s cousin, Spring Fling — because money was always limited. Looking back, I’m glad it was because it made the selections I made so much sweeter because I made sure I experienced them as much as possible. The one I always wanted to do was to try and win a goldfish … no matter which booth had them.

As soon as I would win a goldfish, I’d worry about how long it could stay in the bag and survive and would always pick that as my last thing so we could go straight home and put the fish in a bowl. I think I feared it would suffocate being in a bag. Yes, I was a somewhat strange child.

What does this trip down memory lane have to do with The Journal of Angela Ashby?? I knew from the very start of writing, the beginning of the book would have an iconic school carnival, complete with a dunk tank, Ferris Wheel, and all sorts of “try-your-luck” type of booths. What better place to start a book with magical elements, than a school carnival? It almost begs for magic to happen — and in The Journal of Angela Ashby, it does.

The smell of popping kettle corn melded with cotton candy and funnel cakes filled the air. The sweet scent almost overwhelmed me. Booths and tents ranged in rows across the athletic field and rides were in the center of the track; a Ferris wheel, a megaslide, a rock climbing wall, and a Tasmanian Twister. Bells, whistles, excited squeals, the cries of booth vendors hawking their games, mingled with conversations.

Sam Shearon did a brilliant job of evoking a school carnival with spooky overshadows. It is just creepy enough, but not too creepy.

The post The Journal of Angela Ashby: The School Carnival appeared first on Be the Cat.

Even if it were a haunted house, it would be things like bowls of cold spaghetti or peeled grapes you’re putting your hand blindly into and getting all grossed out over thinking about entrails and eyeballs. People wearing scary masks might jump out and startle you in the gloom, but they are not likely to be wielding a real ax or going to chop off any body parts. So you can shiver, scream, laugh, and enjoy the entire experience.

But from the moment the girls stepped into the tent, things were different. Subtly, magic was in play from that first moment … and then there was Madame Vadoma.

When writing, some characters come through so strongly you never have to reach for them. That was the case with Madame Vadoma. Her voice, mannerisms, appearance, attitudes, speech inflection, etc. all came through loud and clear. All I had to do was close my eyes and I could see her … vividly. Sam Shearon, the cover creator and interior illustrator, captured her perfectly — the angular features, the amber eyes, hoop earrings, and ring encrusted fingers were all simply perfect. I felt as if he peeked into my head and brought her to “life” for the cover.

Madame Vadoma is named as such because Vadoma means to know, and as a fortune-teller, it suited her. A strong, confident character who remains just as mysterious at the end of the book as she was at the beginning … because that is the way she wanted it. I was saddened when she disappeared and I knew she wouldn’t be back before the end of the book. As a character, she still intrigues me. Her motivations remain obscure, yet her part was complete — for this novel at least.

     A ring encrusted hand thrust the curtain back and we both jumped.
     Lighthearted moment over.
     A tall, thin woman followed the hand into the room. Her big eyes were circled with thick, black liner that trailed up at the corners. And dark-red lipstick made her mouth look like a bloody gash. Her prominent nose and angular cheeks gave her a hawk-like appearance.
     “I am Madame Vadoma.”

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Release day marks a very special day in an author’s journey. It’s the day when we finally get to share our baby with the world. Writing a book is a labor of love. From the wondrous moment when inspiration strikes, through getting to know the characters, who they are, how they react, what their motivations are … essentially, what makes them tick, it is a journey with ups and downs. Hours upon hours of research, writing, and the never-ending editing cycle go into each book for me and when at last it is deemed done, we send it off to gain someone else’s acceptance for publication. And even after the publishing home is determined, there are more hours spent on getting the book ready for its final debut.

Up until release day, the book is our own. We can mold and shape at will and a bajillion times do a last minute tweak or two. But once it is released, the book belongs to the world and each reader brings their own experiences to the act of reading and we, the author, the creator, are no longer in control. We cannot tell people how to read the book … the reader will either see what we intended to put on the page or they won’t.

So, The Journal of Angela Ashby no longer belongs just to me … may the world embrace Angela, Mallory, Tatiana, and the rest of the characters and story — it is your time to fly, Angela. And now it is time for me to focus on my next work.

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The roots of this story go back to 2009 while I was working on another book and Angela intruded to tell me that I was going to write her story. At that moment, I was so engrossed with the story I was in the middle of, and the words were flowing at such a rate I could barely keep up, that this new character was more of a nuisance than anything else. I pointed to the end of the story idea line and told Angela to get comfortable … because it was going to be awhile. She didn’t wait patiently.

Of ALL my characters, Angela has always been the most emphatic about who she is and the story she had to tell. Angela embodies the spirit of Be the Cat!! more than any character I’ve worked with. She knows who she is and makes no apologies.

Most of the time, I have some sort of idea of what the story is about before starting the writing process. Not this time. I simply knew my character had a story and it was my job to tell it. So — no outline, no story notes, nothing but me and a blinking cursor on the blank page. Imagine my surprise when this dilapidated carnival tent appeared as if by magic.

I had never written anything but contemporary to this point, and yet here, in the middle (well, more like the middle of the beginning) of the story popped up an object I knew had to contain magic. The last line of the image sums up exactly how I felt at that moment. Wait!! What is this doing in the middle of the story??? It didn’t belong.. (Or so I thought.)

But I was curious. First of all, it was a cool, old, tent and I wanted to know what was inside. This was the moment where the story turned from being an obligation to explore on behalf of my character to needing to satisfy my curiosity. From this moment forward, I was totally hooked, and I hope you will be, too.

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For those of you coming along with me on this journey who do not have an understanding of how weird and twisted a writer’s brain can be, this post may sound weird and twisted. I will preface it by stating that for me as a writer, my characters have to live in my head in order to come out on the page as full-fledged people, so my characters talk to me, we have conversations, we argue, and I have, at times, received the full-on silent treatment. What affects me affects my characters, and what affects them affects me.

I haven’t written a lot since finding out I had to have chemo. First because I had to get things taken care of in a short time frame, and second because I’m not getting a lot of cooperation from my gang. I am currently in the process of trying to finish up the 4th book in the Misfit McCabe series, One Way Ticket Home, so I can move on to my next project. This particular book has taken some unexpected twists and turns and I have to tell you, I love what has happened with it. I can’t wait to give everyone a chance to experience it. I knew the girls were all being a bit stand-offish, and we hadn’t had a chance to fully discuss what would be happening with me and what we could all expect—it’s kind of hard to have that conversation when you really don’t know yourself.

I thought maybe working through a scene with the boys was the way to ease into it, but I needed them to fight … and they wouldn’t. They didn’t want to “gross me out” while I was connected to the tubes. Ultimately, I think I will be able to write during the six hour day, if for no other reason than to escape the fact that I am connected to a drip for six hours. But this round it was not to be so.

The boys at least showed up. The girls refused to even come talk to me until after my first treatment. Then Janie came through. Janie is a character from One Way Ticket Home, and I love this character so much, I can’t wait for you to meet her. Here’s how the conversation went.

Me: Hey, Janie.
Janie: *stops dead, eyes widen, hands cover mouth*
Me: What’s wrong?
Janie: You still have hair!

And that’s how I found out Katie had told all the girls I was going to lose my hair. And they were all weirded out by it. I had to tell each one of them that with my particular treatment, hair loss is not common, so it is unlikely that I will lose my hair, but even if I did, it wouldn’t be a big deal for me. I know that hair loss is a big deal for some people (men and women) during the chemotherapy process, and whatever is a big issue for you, is a big issue. I’m the first to say so. I don’t think being upset by hair loss means you’re vain. It is the mourning of loss and the process you have to go through in search of health. Hair loss for me, simply isn’t one of my issues. If it starts coming out, I’ll shave my head, just to be done with it. And then I’m going to have a blast shopping for some outrageous wigs (and if I can swing it, matching eyebrows), and some killer scarves.

In fact, one of the questions I started debating in the middle of the night (Denny had to start work at 0300, so we had some awake time during the wee hours) was whether I should get my hair trimmed, or cut short. It needs to be cut or I’ll soon be the wild-haired kewpie doll visiting all your nightmares. The hair has reached the bushy, totally out of control stage and has been there for a few weeks driving me crazy. But I didn’t want to have it done until I knew whether I was getting a cut or a cut and having a bit of color put back in. The color will have to wait, so now the big question is trimmed to the shoulders or a really short style. Warning: If you choose really short, you may have to listen to me whine during the growing back out stage.

I understand why the girls were upset by thinking I would lose my hair—for teenage girls (or near teen as in the case of Angela) and in fact, for most people, hair makes a statement about you as a person. They fear being targeted as different outside of their control. I like my hair, I always have, but maybe I feel a bit differently about it because people have wanted to touch it and play with it my entire life. And it annoys me when it gets in my way, so when working I usually have it up and out of the way. I once cut it all off because I realized it was taking me over half an hour on a daily basis just to tame it.

Or maybe hair loss as something not so big sunk in when I took a modeling course at the age of thirteen, and my instructor had recently grown back her hair, and freely discussed not letting the loss of a few strands of hair slow her down. She was gorgeous, and if she wasn’t bothered by it, then why should I worry? And I really do plan to buy wigs, should I lose my hair—hot pink, bright purple, and rainbow … because I can. Because it will be fun. Because it will give me a chance to talk about it. And because if I do lose the hair, it will grow back … and if it doesn’t? *shrugs* I still say not a big deal. I can live a long time without hair.

So the girls are doing a bit better knowing the hair loss thing is not likely, and even though they are not as comfortable with it as I am, they will be okay if it does happen. But they still haven’t been quite ready to work. No one seems to want to upset me at the moment. *rolls eyes* I’m trying to get across to them, life doesn’t stop for this. Life continues on.

My social media circles are a testament to the circle of life. Right now in my stream I have a grandmother happily posting pictures of her brand-new grand-baby, a friend is preparing for youngest son’s wedding in 5 days, another friend is on her way home because her mother passed away this morning. My stream shares triumphs and despair, sickness and health. This cancer thing is only a part of my life, it is not going to be allowed to consume my life until we get rid of it. There is too much life going on, and if I stopped everything, I’d miss it.

Now all I have to do is convince my characters.

The picture at the top of the post is perfect for talking about my characters—a castle growing out of a cliff and reaching toward the clouds. So very much a part of being a writer. And all this discussion of hair makes me think Hair, so have posted the song below:

The post A Bit of the Hair … appeared first on Be the Cat.