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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