One of my first brushes with the concept of an Angel of Death was in the holiday classic by Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol. Every Christmas Eve, I’d wait up to watch with chilling anticipation for the silent, scary, Spirit of Christmas Future. The frightening thing about this spirit for me was the refusal to speak and the cloak covering everything except the outstretched bony finger when it directed Scrooge’s attention. Far more fearsome than the other two spirits because of the unassailable silence. Does the Grim Reaper always move so silently?

Sam Shearon did an excellent job of capturing the reaper for the brief moment it appears in The Journal of Angela Ashby. The work in progress, The Star Warriors and the Secret of the Red Key also deals, much more in depth, with the concept and personification of the Angel of Death. It should be a fun topic to grapple with.

In the middle of the layout, the Ace of Spades drew me in. Smoke from the candles created a foggy layer and the image wavered and morphed into a winged hooded figure carrying a scythe through a graveyard. The angel of death. I blinked and ran a hand over my eyes. Once I lowered my hand, the card showed the black spade and letter ‘A’. Nothing else. Not even a gravestone.

During this scene, Angela went back and forth from being freaked out to thinking Madame Vadoma was a fraud. But this moment Angela knew was no trickery by the mysterious fortune-teller … but what did it mean???

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The post The Journal of Angela Ashby: The Angel of Death appeared first on Be the Cat.

Back to witchcraft … those presumed to be witches often had taken in stray cats to be their companion and somehow the idea of “companion” turned into the witches “familiar” and the belief that the witch could turn herself into a (usually) black cat. Even modern literature supports this in the character of Professor McGonagall, who has the ability to transform herself into a black cat in the Harry Potter series.

In the original draft of The Journal of Angela Ashby, there wasn’t a cat on the page. The cat came out of a discussion with my agent, Italia Gandolfo, along the road to publication. I’m a fairly lean writer, and she wanted a longer book … her advice? Put in a cat. I thought about it for a few moments and realized how perfect a cat would be for the story.

With the mysterious fortune-teller, Madame Vadoma, I thought the inside of the tent where Angela and Mallory had their fortunes told was the perfect setting to introduce a cat. I honestly had no idea how much the cat was going to slink through the story, but she did. In deciding on what type of cat, we picked the Bombay cat as being the perfect style … and it is usually the kind of cat you see in Halloween decorations that pop up everywhere in October. Once the cat, Malachite, had been introduced, she became a full-blown character, and somewhat of a conscience for Angela. By the time I was done weaving the cat through the book, I couldn’t imagine the story without it anymore.

     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 its tail.

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On arrival, he settled in on a hay bale with two of his favorite pumpkins and enjoyed the sunshine. When I suggested it was time to go, he said we couldn’t. The Great Pumpkin hadn’t arrived yet. At that announcement, I started searching for Linus Van Pelt, certain that he had somehow appeared in the patch to convert everyone to his love of the Great Pumpkin.

Then I remembered Sergio had watched It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown in his quest to learn about ALL things Halloween. And if there is one thing about Sergio, he LIVES in the stories he hears or watches, becoming a part of it. This is how he and Luna go on so many adventures.

For awhile my explanation that staying in the pumpkin patch for 5 nights awaiting the arrival of the Great Pumpkin wasn’t practical fell on deaf ears. I didn’t know sloths could be so stubborn. Comments about what the morning dew would do to his fur were met with the response, But my fur is its own ecosystem, so the dew only helps. True, but frustrating. Then, all on his own, he decided I might be right because if he stayed all night and the Great Pumpkin wasn’t there to save him, he might be ravaged by a pack of wolves. Wolves???? Never mind, anything to get him to leave.

Needless to say, I’m already gearing up to provide reason WHY we cannot spend Halloween night in the pumpkin patch. He might even expect Linus to join us.

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We may be in trouble folks. Sergio has figured out that newborn size clothes fit him and he is so stinkin’ cute I cannot stop laughing. I have a Lee Middleton doll, new born size, I’ve had for years and have a few outfits for her. One night, in the middle of the night, it dawned on me that she and Sergio were close in size … and the damage was done. I had to try the jack-o’-lantern outfit on him for size.

Discovering that he can wear newborn clothes during Halloween month when costumes abound has been very bad on my wallet. But there have been way too many cute outfits for me to pass up. Not only that, but Sergio has insisted on having some of the outfits for his adventures. I may have created a monster. But who would have expected a sloth to be a clothes horse?

The funny thing to me is that the favorite part of the outfit is the beret. Sergio feels all suave and sophisticated wearing a beret and would like one in black to match his eyes. There is no hope of going back in time and convincing him that he is like a house elf and should cringe at the mention of clothes. Where IS that time turner when you need it???

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