Writer & Cat

Snippet Saturday: Weaponry

2009-11-07T05:21:00.000-08:00

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This week the theme is weaponry.

All sorts of things can be used to hurt other people, in battle or otherwise. Swords, guns, words, sticks, books, you name it. I've chosen an excerpt from Survival of the Fairest, one of my favorite scenes, actually, that has special relevance because I'm currently working on the sequel to this novel and it (SPOILER ALERT!) will include the characters in this particular scene.

***

In the hallway, Agent Milshadred waited for him. “Gotta talk to you,” she said without preamble. “It’s about your skitter.”

“I can assure you I don’t own a baby gnome.” Embor strode off down the corridor and Milshadred fell into step beside him.

“Your runaway. The one who skittered off. I know where she is.”

That stopped him. “Tell me at once,” he said.

“In private.” She cocked a thumb at a door that read “Employees Only”. She pulled a keycard out of her pocket and slipped it through the lock. He followed her into a lounge area with soda dispensers, several tables and chairs, and the unpleasant smell of cigarette smoke.

As soon as the door closed, Milshadred turned to him. Her pale eyes glittered in the fluorescent lights, and he couldn’t help but notice her thin hands trembled. “It’s like this, Elder baby. I want out.”

Not what he’d expected. “I fail to see what that has to do with Talista’s location.”

“It’s time to ante up. My sibs and I get full clearance for Realmside, we get amplified healing privileges, we get retirement packages that would choke a horse, and we never, ever have to see you or your bitch-ass sister again.”

“You know as well as I do early dismissal isn’t part of your contract, Milshadred. Your work here is important. I must admit, I’m impressed by your ability to…blend.”

He meant his words to be a compliment, but instead they made the woman bristle. “Of course I’m blended. I’m blended like a banana daiquiri! I’ve been here an annishag’s age, and I’m sick of it. I’m not much older than you, you mangy coyote, and look at me.”

Milshadred and her sibs were too valuable to release, especially now. But value didn’t give her the right to demand contract modifications from the Elder Court Primary in exchange for doing her duty—especially an Elder Court Primary who wasn’t supposed to be here.

“When your clan received the lien on the manor house, you and your sibs agreed to a sixty-year contract. It was determined by the Agent Oversight Committee at the time that was a fair amount.”

“Contract? More like coercion. We wanted to be researchers, not agents. Your sib—”

“My sister and I spent only a short time with the AOC as part of our Elder Court training. Might I point out we’re no longer with that organization? Nevertheless, I can assure you that your work here will be amply rewarded in time.”

“Your time or my time? I’m tired of drawing to an inside straight. I’m going to die here, you freak of nature! I’m wrinkled, I’m old and I’ve lost my chompers.”

To Embor’s astonishment, she ripped a set of artificial teeth from her mouth and flung them at him. The white and rose-colored dental work bounced off his chest and dropped to the ground, leaving a smear of saliva on his dark gray suit jacket.

Silence swelled like a puff adder. The old fairy’s lips curled in, thinning into nonexistence. Her eyes narrowed to slits nearly as small as that.

Without a change of expression, he pointed at the teeth on the floor. “I would wash those before reinserting them. The floor doesn’t look particularly clean.”

***
To enjoy other authors' takes on the theme of weaponry, visit:

Anya Bast
Vivian Arend
Ashley Ladd
Leah Braemel
Jaci Burton
Taige Crenshaw
Shelley Munro
Sasha White TJ Michaels
Victoria Janssen
Elisabeth Naughton

Jody Wallace
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com
Coming Soon from Samhain: "What She Deserves" by Ellie Marvel, in which nobody throws teeth at anybody else: http://samhainpublishing.com/coming/what-she-deserves

Meankitty Wants to Know: Valerie Robertson

2009-11-02T04:42:00.000-08:00

In the last author interview for awhile, Meankitty has chosen Valerie Robertson. We're switching over to readers for several weeks after this, and then we might start doing random strangers if more readers don't get in touch with us.

Val's self-written bio: "Val is a former president of the Coeur du Bois Chapter of the Romance Writers of America, as well as the founding and current president of the Popular Fiction Association of Idaho, which produces the Murder in the Grove mystery conference. Her debut novel, the science-fiction romance Blade’s Edge, is available now from Samhain Publishing. She lives in Boise, Idaho, with her husband and three cats (and one dog). Her website: http://valroberts.wordpress.com/"

1) Why did you decide to be a writer instead of a cat sanctuary owner?

Actually, I work next to a cat sanctuary owner at my evil day job, so I support his cat sanctuary (online at http://www.conradstrays.com/, if you're interested). That leaves me time to write down what the stories in my head. My cat family seems to like the arrangement.

2) Why do you think cats are better than dogs? (Since you call yourself a writer, I trust your answer will be eloquent.)

That's a tough question, because I live with cats and dogs; they're both wonderful. However, dogs don't purr, and my dog (he's a Rottie-Sharpei cross) weighs about 100 lbs, so you can fit more cats on the sofa than dogs.

3) Tell me about the felines in your fiction. How often do they appear and how big a part do they play in your narratives?

I only have one cat in my debut novel, but he plays an important role, chewing apart the rope tying the heroine's hands at a critical moment. He's also a very big cat, a domestic puma. Normally I think keeping wild animals as pets is just wrong on so many levels, but the book is set on another planet, many centuries in the future—more than long enough from now to have developed a breed of 150-pound house cats.

4) On the off-chance you have yet to incorporate cats into your fiction, when do you plan to rectify this egregious error and demonstration of poor writing skills?

Tomascon proves that I'm capable of writing a book correctly—with a very special cat in it.

5) What are your favorite works of fiction involving cats or favorite fictional cats?

I really like Linnea Sinclair's furzels and fidgets (cats and kittens) in Games of Command. The six-limbed treecats in the Honor Harrington series by David Weber are also favorites.

6) Do you have any amazing, or at least humorous, real life cat stories you'd like to share?

You mean stories like how we adopted Gizmo (black and white cat) for our 16th wedding anniversary? We went to the shelter for a puppy and came home with an 8-week old kitten because she has thumbs. I discovered that day that my darling husband has a thing for polydactyl cats—after being married to the man for sixteen years.

7) Multiple choice 1. What is your preference and why?

A) Long hair
B) Short hair
C) No hair
-- Note: I am not, of course, referring to the hirsute qualities of your most recent hero or heroine.

D) Long hair and short hair -- those poor kitties without hair just look embarrassed to be nekkid when everyone else has all that lovely fur. I like long-haired cats; they're more likely to have ear tufts and I love me some cat ear tufts. However, darling husband (the one with a thing for feline thumbs) is mildly allergic to long-hair cats, so all of our fur babies of the feline persuasion are short-haired.

8) Multiple choice 2. You have a writing deadline but the cat who rules you wants some attention. Desperately. Do you:

A) Lock the cat in another room and keep working?
B) Pet the cat for a couple minutes and then toss her cruelly aside?
C) Pet the cat as long as she wants because you know it will inspire and refresh you?
-- Note: If you answered anything besides C, we suggest you consider the fact you could have written a much better book if you had been inspired and refreshed instead of mean to the cat.

D) Ha-Hah! I am an experienced typing slave, and I have developed the ability to type on a laptop with a cat draped over my forearms within chin-pettable distance. I have forearms like Popeye and elbow tendonitis as a consequence, but it's worth it to type and have happy cats. Perhaps this is a technique Mean Kitty's typing slave would like to learn? No? Ah, well.

User submitted:

How goes the discussion about discipline in your house?

Darling husband is an animal seducer who speaks fluent cat, dog, rabbit and wolf hybrid (and maybe others, but those I've witnessed). He discusses discipline and the fur babies understand. I try to nod sagely as if I'm in the conversation.

What one thing would you change about your pet/human?

Last year after we brought home Gizmo, I adopted a special kitten from my friends at Conrad Strays: Stuart (grey and white cat) was abandoned at a couple of weeks of age and raised on a bottle. If I could change one thing about Stuart, I would give him ear tufts! Otherwise, he's a perfect 15-pound specimen of young adult cathood. And when he's not, Gizmo puts him in his place.

Do you believe pets and humans come to resemble each other over time?

I hope not—Stuart has gray fur.

When you're in the zone with your writing, what does your cat have to do to get your attention?

It depends on the cat: Serena is 18 years old, so she's usually asleep; Gizmo simply curls up on my leg; Stuart, on the other hand, climbs onto my chest and manages, somehow, to stick his, ah, package in my face. He's been neutered, so I'm not sure why he's showing it to me, but it does get my attention, LOL.

***

Sincerely,
Meankitty & Typing Slave
http://www.meankitty.com/ * http://www.jodywallace.com/

Snippet Saturday: Horrors!

2009-10-31T06:28:00.000-07:00

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This week the theme is HORRORS! in honor of it being Halloween and all.

Okay, the theme is really just "horror" but HORRORS! is a lot funnier. And so is this.

I'm going to share something horrible, all right: a 3 page piece of glorious pain my friend Monica McCabe (http://www.monicamccabe.net/) and I wrote as crappily as we could to use in a judging workshop. See if you can spot any areas for revision!

****

Deadly Jewel of Time

When he heard the familiar cloppity clop clop of the approaching carriage, Asp Colten, Lord Deviltree, shoved his black tricorned cap upon his masked head and vaulted atop the thunderous black steed Demon. Fog ghosted across the road through the lonely mores as the elegant covered stagecoach rounded the narrow lane. Lanterns swung from the corners of the coach but did little to alleviate the striking gloom of the dark autumn night.

"Hyup Demon!" he called to the steed. Together, almost as one beast, they thundered down the slope to the point in the road between two hills that made the perfect spot for an ambush. He drew his pistols and fired a shot above the head of the terrified coachman.

"Stand and Deliver!" he cried out in a thundersome voice, punctuating his demand with a shot from the other pistol. They were historically accurate pieces--unlike the laser gun hidden in his vest strictly for emergencies.

He'd only use it if he had to, and he'd never had to. But he would, if he had to.

The coach screeched to a halt, the bewigged coachman tugging frantically on the reins of the four perfectly matched bays. Of course they were perfectly matched.

They belonged to none other than Fidalia Lakeland, the widowed Countess of Hotspur, and she would have nothing less.

Just like her jewels were nothing less than perfection--and nothing less than his.

***

Fidalia fumed at the incompetence. As coachmen went, Harry was good with horses, but terrible with guns. Whyever did she allow him to escort her to the country estate of her dearly departed? She knew the reputation of this stretch of road thanks to her ne’er do well cousin, Spencer.

Spence was good for one thing at least. Well, two. He taught her a vocabulary any sailor would envy and she enjoyed the cursing. It made her feel sinfully wicked. Secondly, he taught her how to shoot a pistol with so much skill she could split a donkey hair at fifty paces.

She pulled her Flintlock from beneath the seat, quickly loaded it with a smile of relish and a tremor of gleeful anticipation at the prospect of taking out the brazen fool holding up her carriage. As an afterthought she tucked a slim dagger down her bodice and shivered at the cold steel against her skin.

They’d stopped.

“Don’t shoot, Gov’ner!”

She snorted at Harry’s cowardice and peeked out the carriage window. One highwayman? Harry was afraid of one measly highwayman?

“Stand and Deliver!” Came the demand again.

Mad as a hornet, Fidalia slammed open the carriage door and shooted, “Deliver yourself, ye scurvy dog!”

Then she fired her pistol.

The shot rang out through the dark like an arrow, straight at the highwayman’s chest with unerring aim of long practice. To Fidalia’s surprise when it struck him a shield of light appeared around his body in milliseconds, disappearing again so fast she had to blink to be sure what she saw. But she opened her eyes the light shield was gone and the highwayman was approaching the carriage unharmed, his pistol pointed straight at her head.

“You impudent wench!” He cried. “Hand over the flawless Star Ruby I know you wear at your delectable breast and nobody has to get hurt.”

Fidalia felt a blush steal across her body at the thought of this highwayman thinking of her breasts. Her heart beat faster. She had been widowed long enough that she’d began to think of taking a lover...not that she’d ever had one, her departed husband had not been virility.

“Never!” she responded saucily then fired her pistol again point blank.

Light again flared around the highwayman but this time he flinched. She saw it.

She had hit him with a bullet! It was only moments until he toppled off his horse. Only he didn’t appear to be toppling. Nor bledding. He stared down at her and shoved the cold, hard barrel of his pistol against her vulnerable forehead where she stuck her head out the window.

“Cor, hand the geegaws o’er, Mistress!” Harry agreed his trembling knees knocking the carriage like castanets. “Ye gentry nobs gots plenty where they come from!”

But none like the Star Ruby.

The flawless gem was hers, the reason she married the old man, the reason she endured cold, and thankfully celibate nights in a drafty old castle. Her plot thickened unto solidity. Allowing a petty thief to walk away with her crown jewel was simply not acceptable.

“Remove your gun from my person you contemptible swine!” she demanded imperiously.

Said swine’s eyes swirled in shock at her boldness. But the gun didn’t move. So she leaned forward out the carriage window, pushing his gun back in the process and flashing her décolletage in hopes that their delectableness proved distracting.

It worked for his gaze fastened on her full bosom. Mere inches separated her and the lusty thief.

“If you want the ruby,” she huskily whispered as she reached her fingers between her two voluptuous globes as he watched entranced. “You’ll die trying to get it!”

She whipped her dagger free and stabbed with its razor-sharpness, only to be blinded by a mysterious white flash.

Was her vision going? Had she developed cataracts, she kept seeing the highwayman encased in bright light. Or was it something else?

What she didn’t know, and Asp was not about to tell her was that her attacks kept turning on his personal force shield, disguised as a tricorn hat so no one in these primitive times would recognize that he was not of this dimension.

Her attacks turned on his force shield but her very lusciousness was turning on his forceful lust! There was no protection against that. Her beatiful body attacked him as surely as a ninja. His eyes strayed to her cream bosoms as her mouth gapped in shock. Gently he took the knife out of her nerveless grip.

You’ll not kill me that way,” he said. Demon flung his massive head into the air and whinned. He chucked the Pocket Venus under her stubborn chin. “Perhaps the little death instead?”

Her hand flung out to strike him across the face but could not reach because Demon jumped backwards, trained to protect his rider in times of war. He kept a stable of well trained horses in his secluded country estate, to use on missions such as this when he retrieved various gemstones from the wealthy aristocracy to test for purity.

Only the purest, most perfect gem would work in his Interdimensional Traveling Machine, ITM for short. His ancestors had invented the machine in the 23rd century, his family retained the patent. They used it to increase their wealth and influence and for humanitarian efforts like historical research. But he had never expected to become stranded in Regency England on a simple field mission! Now he had the task of replacing the dimensional crystal or he would be stuck forever, masquerading as Lord Deviltree, Rake of the Ton.

The masquerade was not all torture. Case in point, the luscious globes of one Countess Hotspur.

“Hand over the ruby, Sweetness,” he said with false brusqueness. “Or your coachman takes a lead ball.”

He didn’t mean it. Sure, he’s killed before, but they were all bad. Not helpless servants quaking in abject fear. Still, there’s always a first time. The legendary fire of the Star Ruby was the only known gem in all of Regency England that could power the ITM and get him back in time to stop an interdimensional incident of galactic proportions.

Fidalia scoffed at his fierce words. Still, even though Harry had served the ancient Count Hotspur his whole life he did not deserve to die on a lonely stretch of more. But in no way did that mean she intended to hand over the one thing that she searched her whole life for. The one thing stolen from her grandfather in an elaborate scam by Hotspur’s scandalous and reprehensible son days before he found himself on the wrong end of a duel.

The Star Ruby belonged to her family. Now that she had it back, fully intended to keep it.

“We have a small problem, Sir Highwayman.” She flounced back on the seat of her carriage. “I don’t have what your looking for.”

Asp leaned his head back and roared in laughter. He knew for a fact that she did. History showed her portrait had been painted with the very ruby at her throat.

“Laugh you imbecile,” she sniffed and turned her head. “You won’t find the ruby in this carriage.”

Dread, like the viper he’d been named for began snaking its way up his spine. He could clearly see most of her creamy chest area, there was no Star Ruby to be seen on it. He had been so sure she would wear it to the social event of the season, the McCabe Ball! He had been planning this hold up for weeks. But her clavicles were barren.

Had he powered up his personal force shield draining its power pack, and risked the dangerous mores for naught? “Where will I find Star Ruby?” he asked. “Speak now or die.”

“I don’t know,” she answered with a toss of her head that set her ebony curls to dancing. “Count Hotspur sealed it behind a wall somewhere in Dragon’s Keep before his oh so timely death.”

****

If you want to read some actual horror scenes, as I suspect the other authors won't have intepreted "HORRORS!" in quite the same way I have, click on:

Anya Bast
Eliza Gayle
Juliana Stone
Michelle Pillow
Lauren Dane
Moira Rogers
TJ Michaels
Ashley Ladd
Kelly Maher
Shelli Stevens
Shelley Munro
Mandy Roth
Mark Henry
Savannah Foley

****

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

Meankitty Wants to Know: CJ Redwine

2009-10-26T04:17:00.000-07:00

Author CJ Redwine is in Typing Slave's local RWA Chapter and can be found online at: http://cjredwine.blogspot.com/

1) Why did you decide to be a writer instead of a cat sanctuary owner?

Who says I can’t do both? I’m very good at multi-tasking. For example, I currently offer sanctuary to Tinks the Terror and Spastic Kitten and spend a good portion of my writing time mopping up spills, breaking up fights, and patiently explaining why my keyboard isn’t the best place to take a nap.

2) Why do you think cats are better than dogs? (Since you call yourself a writer, I trust your answer will be eloquent.)

I have never—not once--been awakened by a cat sneezing an entire snout-full of snot into my face. I can’t say the same for my dog.

3) Tell me about the felines in your fiction. How often do they appear and how big a part do they play in your narratives?

Some of my novels have cats and some don’t but honestly, being a cat is all about attitude and my books always have plenty of that.

4) On the off-chance you have yet to incorporate cats into your fiction, when do you plan to rectify this egregious error and demonstration of poor writing skills?

All of my novels either have a cat as an integral part of the plot (sinking claws into the family jewels counts as integral, right?) or were written while fending off Tinks the Terror’s efforts to hoist a leg and bathe in the center of my keyboard.

5) What are your favorite works of fiction involving cats or favorite fictional cats?

I have to say the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. He’s so affable and creepy.

6) Do you have any amazing, or at least humorous, real life cat stories you'd like to share?

Sure! Here’s one about the dubious “presents” my cat left for me to find one morning: http://cjredwine.blogspot.com/2007/11/perfect-aim.html

7) Multiple choice 1. What is your preference and why?
A) Long hair
B) Short hair
C) No hair
-- Note: I am not, of course, referring to the hirsute qualities of your most recent hero or heroine.

Our family prefers short hair to accommodate my husband’s allergies but I love cats, no matter what. I will say, though, that the thought of a hairless cat is a bit daunting.

8) Multiple choice 2. You have a writing deadline but the cat who rules you wants some attention. Desperately. Do you:

A) Lock the cat in another room and keep working?
B) Pet the cat for a couple minutes and then toss her cruelly aside?
C) Pet the cat as long as she wants because you know it will inspire and refresh you? -- Note: If you answered anything besides C, we suggest you consider the fact you could have written a much better book if you had been inspired and refreshed instead of mean to the cat.

Well, C, of course. I mean, I did just introduce my cats as Tinks the Terror and Spastic Kitten. Not a lot of mental stability going on there. To deny their demands is to invite the apocalypse, kitty style, upon my house.

User submitted:

How goes the discussion about discipline in your house?

Loud and futile.

Do you think pets and humans come to resemble each other over time?

Since Spastic Kitten is a striped, bow-legged little bantam of a kitty, I sincerely hope not.

****

Sincerely,

Meankitty
www.meankitty.com

A Query about The Storage Unit

2009-10-22T14:30:00.000-07:00

A faithful reader has asked a most important question and The Party Cats have threated to pull my acount privileges if I don't answer.

Q: "Nanny Slave, how much of the junk in your Storage Unit is cat-related?"

A: An interesting question, indeed. I would have to say that only about 10% of the junk in my storage unit is cat-related. At first, this might seem like a low percentage, considering the general cattiness of my life. However, one must consider that we are talking about my junk in storage, which is junk that is not actively being used by me or the various cats that share ownership of me. Obviously, all the many cat toys, cat bowls, cat pans, cat furniture, pieces of cat art, clothing featuring cat themes, and books about cats are in current use. The cats wouldn't tolerate anything less.

Coming soon --- photos of junk!

Nanny Slave

Unquantifiable Delight

2009-10-21T14:58:00.000-07:00

How can I measure, assess or otherwise restrain the joy that this item brings me?

This item was sent to me from the phone of Nanny Slave, who is perhaps at a Kohl's searching for bed linens and finding sheer pleasure instead. If you wish to inflict torture on your own dogs, and why wouldn't you, you can find out more here: https://www.snuggiefordogs.com/flare/next
Warning: Do not try this at home on your CATS. They will cut you.

Sincerely,
Meankitty

Meankitty Wants to Know: The Dogs of JB McDonald

2009-10-19T04:52:00.000-07:00

Romance author JB McDonald isn't perfect. She has 2 dogs instead of cats. (Cash is the big hairy dude and Lily is the pit bull.) HOWEVER, her first book has a cat shifter, and from the sound of the following interview, the dogs are giving her sufficient trouble, almost like cats. So I consented to interview Lily and Cash, and I highly doubt, despite Lily's insistence, that JB's book Treasure Hunting is terrible :).

****

1) So, your human writes books. Are they (a) full of praise and hyped up lies about dogs; or (b) do they contain interesting stories? If A, interview is over. If B, you may continue.

Cash: We're beginning to think our human doesn't love us at all. She hasn't published any books with dogs, and in her first book the man changes into a cat (Treasure Hunting). It's terrible.

Lily: So, obviously, the stories could be better. But they're still pretty interesting!

2) If writers are supposed to be so smart, why does your writer have a dog instead of a cat when it's common knowledge cats are better? Does that mean your writer isn't very smart?

Lily: I think she just knows that I'm a fierce pit bull who'd shred a cat to ribbons, and so she's showing great restraint in keeping it down to dogs and a bird.

Cash: Remember that time the cat chased you from the house and wouldn't let you back in?

Lily: ...shuddup.

3) So why did your human end up a writer instead of a animal sanctuary owner or something like that?

Cash: That is a good question. We could have had even more dogs, all this time!

Lily: Cash, you dork. If she did something foolish like start an animal sanctuary, then she'd have much less time to play with us. I'm starting to wonder about your priorities, kitty. Animal sanctuary. What are you thinking?

4) Does being a writer mean your human is home all day and easy to access? What is her day like?

Cash: As soon as we see her eyes open in the morning, we leap into action!

Lily: I scoot up from the foot of the bed to cuddle, encouraging her to spend good, healthy time snuggling with me instead of staring at the computer screen.

Cash: And I LEAP onto the bed and announce that the DAY HAS BEGUN, AND IT'S GLORIOUS!

Lily: ...you're such a twit.

Cash: And then there's DOGGIE WESTLE MANIA!

Lily: *sighs* Then she gets up and makes coffee--

Cash: And NEVER lets me have any. It's tragic.

Lily --and turns on the computer after letting us out briefly.

Cash: That's when our real work begins, distracting her from the evils of writing too much.

Lily: Over the next several hours, we work really hard (in between napping), but usually she manages to spend more time with the computer than with us. But then she gets dressed and we start dog training! I have a very important role in this. My job is to get other dogs to calm down.

Cash: OHMYGOSH. OHMYGOSH. Can I tell this part? It's the best part! We go visit with these other two dogs who are in training, and... we all get to walk!

Lily: But I do the important job.

Cash: And we go downtown--!

Lily: Like keeping one dog calm so she learns not to attack other dogs--

Cash: And there are people--!

Lily: --and teaching the other dog that nothing's scary.

Cash: And stuff--!

Lily: *sighs* And I'm teaching Cash to behave, too.

Cash: And other dogs--!

Lily: Later when we get home, she goes to the gym and then takes us scootering--

Cash: I'm really good at pulling!

Lily: --which is like dogsledding, but on the sidewalk with wheels.

Cash: Really really good! I could show you sometime!

Lily: And then it's dinnertime.

Cash: And we get to eat--! ...that's kinda boring.

Lily: Mmmm. Fooooooooooood.

5) As a dog, you're probably not devious or fascinating, but on the off-chance you do have feline traits, what are your techniques for distracting your human during crucial writing moments?

Lily: I find that resting my head on the keyboard and slowly pressing usually works. For added bonus, I like to rest right over the delete key. The sound she makes as she tries to push me away is like music to my ears! And if that doesn't work, I try to distract her with soulful looks and quiet whining, as if I'm in extreme pain.

Cash: All I have to do is look at her. MASTER OF DISTRACTION, RIGHT HERE! Booyah.

6) What indignities and neglect have you suffered because of your human's writing career (besides the absence of a cat to properly rule the house)?

Cash: We have to live in an APARTMENT.

Lily: We always had to live in an apartment.

Cash: We don't get petted every moment.

Lily: That is tragic. And she stays up late, keeping us up, too. I need my beauty sleep!

Cash: ...but you nap all day anyway.

Lily: shuddup.

7) We've established your human doesn't write stories full of hyped up lies about dogs. Tell me about the felines in your human's fiction. How often do they appear and how big a part do they play?

Cash: We mentioned the novel with the man who changes into a cat, right?

Lily: It's horrible. I still have dreams about cats, and she has to introduce a giant spotted cat who's actually a man. Or a man who's a cat -- I'm a little fuzzy on the details.

Cash: At one point he escapes from being shot by changing into a big cat and vanishing into the forest, taking the girl with him. There's this scary chase scene and lots of descriptions of racing, but the important question is -- who would want to ride on the back of a jungle cat? A dog makes much mores sense. Maybe pulling a sled.

Lily: Which is what happens in the next book! Only without the jungle.

Cash: Or the cat. And the dogs don't change into humans.

Lily: Well... that's true. But it's almost the same.

8) When your human gets together with other writers, do they spend half their time sniffing each other's butts like dogs do?

Lily: No, which is a pity. They spend an awful lot of time cackling about things, and I'm not sure it's healthy. I think they'd probably do better to start out with crotch sniffing and go from there.

Cash: ...when I sniff people's butts, they practically fall over escaping. It's hilarious.

9) What is your human's next project (bonus points if you answer: getting a cat)?

Cash: She's writing a book about dogs! There's sled dogs and crippled dogs and PUPPIES! And the dogs SAVE THE DAY! They get the humans together and show them how to enjoy themselves and even rescue a human when he gets stuck in the mountains! It's a whole book about doggie derring-do!

Lily: ...I think you just ended our interview. Yup, look, there goes Meankitty. Good going, Cash. Sheesh.

***

The human author will be signing books at Yaoi*Con in San Fran this month, Oct 30-Nov 1, at the Torquere table. To my knowledge, the dogs will not be with her.

Sincerely,

Meankitty
http://www.meankitty.com/

The Storage Unit

2009-10-18T14:55:00.000-07:00

The Party Cats have graciously allowed me, Nanny Slave, to utilize their account to perform this guest blogging stint. Readers of Writer & Cat, please bear with me. I’ve got some stuff to say….

Throughout my 30+ years, I have lived in a variety of environs. An assortment of dorm rooms, apartments, and houses in several different states, really. Not that I could rattle off the address of any of these locales if queried, so I’ll be in trouble if I ever get audited. (Wait, do they even bother to audit people who make less than 10k a year? And can’t they just call up the IRS for my previous mailing addresses? But then again, it would be the IRS doing the auditing, wouldn’t it? Hmmm, a circular conundrum, indeed.) Over the years, in all of these places, I acquired things. Lots of wonderful things. I even acquired a roommate for 8 of those years and he also acquired things. Lots of random, useless, stupid things. When I moved home to live with my mother a few years ago (because I am that awesome), I had to procure a Storage Unit for to house all these things. Considering that I was moving home to live with my mother, I was not in a tip-top state of mind at this point in my life and packed accordingly: open box, fill with nearby things, shut box, tape. Clink, tinkle, clang. Oh, did something break? Pffft. Repeat 99 times. The former roommate (hereafter FR) skipped out of the picture with nary a glance back at his many things. And in said Storage Unit all these things, the roommate’s and mine, have nestled for almost 4 long years, waiting for their chance at a grand resurrection, to again bring me great clutter and joy. And perhaps great rage as well, considering the percentage of things that are not even mine and yet here I am having to deal with them.

Anyway, that time has come! A wonderful man has fallen madly in love with me and is buying me a house in which to reside with him forever more. However, as I want this man to continue to love me madly, I hesitate to drag quite all of the THINGS to the fabulous new home. Thus, I must throw open the gates of Storage and sift through my past in all its disorderly glory. As a precursor, here is a list of possible items I will encounter along the way:

1. Four curling irons and two sets of hot rollers. Which is funny because I have had less than two inches of hair for most of the past 18 years. And I have certainly never had the mad tonsorial skills required to wield such equipment.

2. A large box of stuffed monkeys of assorted sizes, colors and species. Plus, some plastic Smurfs, a stuffed Lurky (a la Rainbow Brite), and a few Barbie dolls.

3. Large amounts of discarded metal, including a lawn mower engine, the innards of a Wang computer, aluminum siding, and/or the muffler of a 1982 Buick Regal. FR fancied himself a bit of an industrial artist and planned to create an homage to scrap. HE was SCRAP.

4. A skateboard that I stole from this guy I had a big crush on and hid in the bottom of my closet and forgot about until after I had realized he was a turd and then obviously, like I was going to give it back then?

5. Some unused Pampers from the time my sister, mom, and baby niece drove to Wisconsin to visit me. I kept them around in case I ever found a baby and it needed a diaper change.

6. Billing statements from my dorm room phone line 15 years ago. All paid in full, of course. But still available, just in case…..

7. A matching but battered green chair and ottoman from my grandmother’s house. It used to sit in my great-aunt’s bedroom next to the smelly armoire with the squeaky drawers. The chair used to be flowered, but Granny covered it with green using a staple gun. My mom hates that chair.

8. More than 40 cookbooks. None that have been used, though, since I don’t cook. But with lovely photographs of food that someone else cooked.

9. Several tens of overdraft notices from when FR opened a bank account with $50 and wrote nearly $200 of checks while having no cash flow with which to replenish the account. Did I mention that he was SCRAP?

10. One of those save-your-back exercise balls for doing sit-ups. But my cat gnawed through the tube of the pumper-upper, although it took me 20 minutes to figure this out the time I tried to air up the ball and crunch my way to six-pack abs. Hey, now I can blame the cat for my flabby gut!

Anyway, stay tuned. This is going to be a wild ride.

Snippet Saturday: Holidays

2009-10-17T06:28:00.000-07:00

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This week the theme is holidays. I'm sharing the first page from the prequel to A Spell for Susannah -- imaginatively titled "A Spell for Susannah's Mother" and set during the Wintertide Festival, the fantasy version of our various winter holidays.

The best part? You can read the whole thing for free at the Samhellion Newsletter website if you want.

****

Blurb: If the King is fated to love thirteen women before he turns fifty, is he still husband material? One cold, wet Wintertide Eve, the Queen labors over the answer to her husband’s curse.

****

The back of the King’s tawny fur coat disappeared around the corner, and the Queen maneuvered herself out from behind the flower seller’s cart before she lost sight of the sneaky bastard who called himself her husband.

The saleslady shot her a knowing look and selected a posy of small purple blooms, a Kingdom Foresta specialty in this cold, wintery season. “Might I interest you in Heartsease?”

“Thank you, no. I’m in a rush.” Normally the Queen would converse with the citizens, but right now she was both angry and incognito. Her lower back ached, and dirty road sludge weighed down her nondescript cloak and gown at the hem.

“I would be in a rush, too, were my babe due any day,” the seller observed. “Luck to you, madam.”

The Queen tugged her hood closer to her face and hurried past, her fury increasing with every cold, miserable plodding step. Wind gusted down the streets of the capitol city as if blown by giants, funneled by the tall buildings on either side. Wintertide was a day away and the Wintereve Feast tonight. By all rights she and her husband should be warm and safe at the castle’s hearth, toasting one another with mulled cider, stringing cranberries and awaiting the birth of their third child.

Due any day, indeed! The Queen was far too pregnant and exhausted to be trailing Reginald as he skulked toward his latest assignation. Her feet had bloated over the tops of her winter boots. False contractions hardened her womb so frequently it stole her breath. Yet here she was, lumbering along as quickly as she could, because there was no one on her staff she could trust with such a delicate mission. Not even the nurse, home with Princesses Susannah and Calypso. Instead of enlisting Nursie’s help, she’d told the older woman she had to purchase last minute Wintertide gifts, and Nursie had threatened to call the court healer to prevent the Queen from going.

But she was the Queen of Foresta, the pregnant Queen of Foresta, the pregnant and cranky Queen of Foresta, and by the Dragon, her will would be done.

Her will would be done by everyone except her sneaking, cheating skunk of a husband.

****

If you like Susannah's parents, you'll like Susannah even more:

http://mybookstoreandmore.com/shop/product.da/a-spell-for-susannah

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

More holidays and festivities can be found at:

Michelle Pillow
Mandy Roth
Anya Bast
Lacey Savage
Jaci Burton
McKenna Jeffries
Moira Rogers
TJ Michaels
Taige Crenshaw
Vivian Arend
Ashley Ladd
Shelli Stevens
Shelley Munro

Meankitty Wants to Know: Marianne Arkins and Breeann

2009-10-12T05:08:00.000-07:00

Breeann the Cat owns author Marianne Arkins, who writes romances for a variety of publishers and likes butterflies, which no doubt Breeann likes, too...in a very different way!

***

1) So, your human writes books. Does this mean he or she is home all day and easy to access? Elaborate if necessary.

Home? Yes. Easy to access? No. Would you believe she doesn’t let me lay on top of her computer keyboard? And sometimes she won’t even let me in her lap. I’ll paw at her and yowl to no avail. Why is she home if not to care for me, after all? Even the dog gets more attention than I do – just because it needs to go out to pee. You’d think she’d appreciate me more because I’m so low maintenance.

2) How large a proportion of her income do you have her devote to your gourmet tuna, cat beds, toys and other basic necessities?

I’m too old and lazy to play with toys, and as a matter of principle I avoid the beds she buys me (preferring to sleep on shoes, her pillow or a discarded item of clothing). But food? Oh yeah. She’s tried feeding me the cheap stuff, but I refuse to eat it. And since she puts some kind of powder stuff on my food every day that I have to eat, I get to decide what goes on my plate. Seafood only, preferably tuna, but I’ll settle for salmon (and lately she’s been giving my chicken liver as a treat ... yum). It’s taken me fifteen years, but she’s finally learning who’s boss.

3) What are your techniques for distracting your human during crucial writing moments, just because it's fun?

Attacking the dog is a favorite because the thing is so pitiful about my power (despite being six times my size). Yowling. And, when those don’t work I can sometimes manage to yak up a good hairball.

4) What indignities and neglect have you suffered because of your human's writing career?

Aside from being ignored when she’s busy? Nothing much, really. She tried to get me to pose with her book when it came out, but I refused (though the box was a great place to hang out once it was empty). For the most part she’s careful of my dignity.

5) Tell me about the felines in your human's fiction. How often do they appear and how big a part do they play?

Would you believe she’s yet to write a story with a cat prominently featured?? She’s had dogs, ferrets and even a rat – but NO cats. Oh, her hero in “Kitchen Matches” gave a kitten named Rose to the heroine, but it was barely a walk-on part. Maybe in the sequel Rose will have a few lines?

6) On the off-chance your human has yet to incorporate cats into a story, what are your plans for making sure she rectifies this egregious error and demonstration of poor writing skills?

She says dogs are more fun to write about. Can you imagine? I think I’ll go swat the dog here as a matter of principle. BRB.

7) What works of fiction or cinema involving cats does your human enjoy sharing with you?

Once again, the movies she loves that feature animals usually feature DOGS. “Turner and Hootch” for instance. What’s so cute about a dog that drools and destroys things? Give me a nice, calm and dignified cat any day of the week. Hey! Is that a moth? ::leaps up on the table and wildly attacks the lamp in an attempt to kill the invading insect::

8) If you could make one change to your human, what would it be?

A wider, softer lap that is available at my whim. And she would hate dogs.

User Submitted:

Question for pets: Are you happy with your human? If you could tell your human one thing, what would it be?

I’m mostly happy. I’m an only cat, and the dog knows her place in this household (bottom of the totem pole, of course). I do wish I could sleep with her at night, but her man doesn’t like kitties on the bed. Maybe she should make HIM sleep in the other room? I think that’s a fantastic solution.

What things does your human do that would mortify it if known? What does your human do that most annoys?

She sings. A lot. A the top of her lungs. Sometimes she dances with her child. It’s not a pretty sight.

And, I’m still annoyed that they got a new dog when the last one left. It takes a long time to train the things, and the other one was all broken in.

Questions for cats: Did your human name a character for you? Are you pleased? If not, why?

No. I think I would make a fabulous character. Stately. Proud. Hungry. I’ll have to work at rectifying that situation.

And did your human name you for a fictional character? Hate it or love it?

No. She named me after cheese, of all things. As if I like food. I’m not fat, I’m fluffy.

How do you give your writer new ideas?

By laying on her head when she’s reclining. It’s a bit like the Vulcan Mind Meld.

***

Sincerely,
Meankitty
http://www.meankitty.com/

Meankitty Wants to Know: RF Long and Atlantis

2009-10-05T04:49:00.000-07:00

Author RF Long is owned by a cat named Atlantis, who has sent us these wonderful answers to our wonderful questions for today...with illustrations! Quick author bio:

R.F. Long always had a thing for fantasy, romance and ancient mysteries. The combination was bound to cause trouble. In university she studied English Literature, History of Religions and Celtic Civilisation, which just compounded the problem. She lives in Wicklow, the Garden County of Ireland, and works in a specialised library of rare and unusual books.

Now available from Samhain Publishing: The Wolf’s Sister: a Tale of the Holtlands; The Scroll Thief: a Tale of Ithian; Soul Fire. Find out more at her website - http://www.rflong.com/

***

1) So, your human writes books. Does this mean he or she is home all day and easy to access? Elaborate if necessary.

No. My human abandons me every day to go and fitter around in some library of old books. Fortunately she removes the small, loud humans at the same time which is good, so I can lounge all day long. One day, when I gain dominion over all the earth... er... ahem... I mean, when she actually makes some money out of this writing lark, she will be able to lounge around with me, providing comfortable snuggling space, food on demand and playtime.

2) How large a proportion of her income do you have her devote to your gourmet tuna, cat beds, toys and other basic necessities?

I turn my nose up at tuna, especially when they gave it to me as a treat after I was sick, just to mess with their heads. Its highly amusing. It's far more entertaining to have them run around after me and then refuse to have anything to do with their so called "treats". Thanks to my "medical expenses" and a neat deal with the local vet, I absorb most of her earnings and funnel them into an offshore account - just in case.

3) What are your techniques for distracting your human during crucial writing moments, just because it's fun?

It's always fun. All the regulars, I suppose. Sitting on her keyboard, lying across her hands as she tries to type. I particularly like getting my head on the touchpad so the cursor goes all over the place. However, the best trick, due to one single moment of vengeful peeing on a pile of clean laundry, is just to climb on any simlar pile of clean clothes and sit there, watching her. The reaction is magnificent.

4) What indignities and neglect have you suffered because of your human's writing career?

The ugly laptop takes my place on her lap every evening. But I have my plans...

5) Tell me about the felines in your human's fiction. How often do they appear and how big a part do they play?

To my knowledge there are no felines in her fiction. Wolves, owls, ten billion horses, but not a single cat. How foolish of her.

6) On the off-chance your human has yet to incorporate cats into a story, what are your plans for making sure she rectifies this egregious error and demonstration of poor writing skills?

I will sit on the laptop until she starts writing a scene with a cat and sit on the laundry, smiling, if she writes anything else.

7) What works of fiction or cinema involving cats does your human enjoy sharing with you?

The Cat From Outer Space is a particular favorite. I can't say why, but she does go on about it. And Homeward Bound of course, which makes her blubber like an imbecile and gives us the delightful phrase "Cats rule and dogs drool!"

8) If you could make one change to your human, what would it be?

I think she, the male human, and the small loud humans should recognise that I am actually a direct descendent of the Goddess Bastet (see top picture for evidence) and if not I will manifest myself in Cthulhu-form to devour them all (see picture to the left).

User Submitted:

Question for pets: Are you happy with your human? If you could tell your human one thing, what would it be?

Generally happy. I'd tell her "Feed me." Oh wait, she does that already. Worship me!

What things does your human do that would mortify it if known? What does your human do that most annoys?

Sings loudly, often unaccompanied. She's not bad, but needs to realise that other people can hear. Even when she's in the car.

Did your human name a character for you? Are you pleased? If not, why?

She named an entire mythical continent for me! Filled with advanced beings and valiant warriors and magical... eh? what? Atlantis was someone else's myth alread???

And did your human name you for a fictional character? Hate it or love it?

Humph!!!!

How do you give your writer new ideas?

Cuddles, love, purring, sinking claws into her leg and headbuts. And never allowing her to sleep on the sofa without climbing all over her to wake her up at the right moment. :)

***

Sincerely,

Meankitty
http://www.meankitty.com/

Meankitty Website Updates, October 4

2009-10-04T12:02:00.001-07:00

Two changes worth checking out on the site today!

One, we posted 6 new cats in the Gallery. T, Tiggy, Alfie, Lucy (3), Penelope (2) and Melon
Link: http://www.meankitty.com/gallery.htm

Two, we updated the Halloween page with new categories and cats. If you want to find out why this cat has been nominated:

You'll go here: http://www.meankitty.com/halloween.htm

Sincerely,
Meankitty and Typing Slave
www.meankitty.com * www.jodywallace.com

Snippet Saturday: Dialogue

2009-10-03T05:48:00.000-07:00

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This week the theme is dialogue. Here's an excerpt from A SPELL FOR SUSANNAH, my first Samhain novel, where Susannah (the eldest of the 12 dancing princesses) and her mother are interviewing potential candidates for palace guards. The Queen hopes to find someone who can figure out what is going on with her daughters' shoes, and Susannah -- well, if you know the fairy tale, you know what she hopes.

***

The Queen signaled a maid to clear the breakfast remains from the table. Sunlight filtered through the clear glass windows, and the office hummed with authority and power. While the King spent his days settling his subjects’ disputes in the Justice Chambers or traveling to other kingdoms on missions of diplomacy, the Queen ran the kingdom from her office. She functioned as a chatelaine for the entire land. Her room wasn’t positioned behind the throne, but it might as well have been.

“Today we’ll interview guard applicants from outside the castle.” The Queen eyed Susannah as she waited for a footman to place her chair beside her mother’s. “Your father employed a talent scout to find these candidates. I plan to hire as many as I deem necessary.”

“You mean a headhunter?” Susannah’s eyes widened as she settled into her seat. “Mama, royals don’t use headhunters.”

“They do now.” The triumphant grin on her mother’s face unsettled her.

The first man to interview was a bearded giant. “Aye, I’ll see to it the little missies don’t go scampering out of their room at night.” The giant grinned, showing several gaps between his large teeth. He crouched on the ground in front of the table instead of sitting on, and crushing, the chair positioned for the candidates’ use.

“How tall are you, sir?” Susannah asked. Giants rarely came to the Middle Kingdoms, and even crouched upon the rug he was as tall as she or her mother.

“Tall enough to see whatever it is you’re up to.” The giant let out an unmanly titter. He dug his fingers into his wiry beard and scraped his chin with a sound like a carpenter’s sander.

“Where have you worked before?” The Queen scratched down notes with her pen, the feather dancing this way and that.

“I did siege work with the late King Nobbyknees, more siege work with King Torrance and some gate bashing with King Phillip, who hired me right out from under King Torrance’s nose during the siege, he did.”

“Are you an employee who cares most about gold?” the Queen asked. “If, say, my daughters offered you a great deal of money to look the other way, would you take it?”

The giant again scratched his chin. “It would depend on if His Highness offered me more.”

“He’ll do quite well,” Susannah whispered to the Queen. “Considering we have never bribed anyone, his loyalty will never be tested.”

The Queen pursed her lips. “You might not be the right giant for this assignment, but you may talk to the steward to see what other positions are open.”

The giant rose to his full height and nearly crashed into the ceiling. His huge navel, eye level with the seated ladies, looked exactly like a bathtub drain. “Thank ye, Your Highness.” A footman flung open both doors so they were wide enough for him to exit.

The second man was a tiny brownie whose head was level with the top of the table. If brownies weren’t reputed to be so sharp-witted, Susannah would have welcomed the chipper man onto the castle staff. They hadn’t employed a brownie in years.

In a surprisingly deep voice for such a small fellow, the brownie said, “Greetings, Your Highness! Greetings, Princess!” He hopped into the chair and swung his legs. “I’ve come about the job. The princesses can’t possibly pull one over on me.”

The Queen inclined her head. “That’s what we hope. You do realize the punishment for failure is dismissal from castle service with no letter of recommendation?”

“Aye, everyone knows that. The guards hoodwinked by the princesses are talking about forming a union. But I shall not fail.”

“There has been no hood to wink.” Susannah sniffed. “What jobs have you held?”

“I guarded a sheep farm for many a year before setting off to seek my fortune. Besides, I was tired of the smell of sheep.”

This wasn’t going to be as bad as she thought. Susannah whispered to her mother, “If I’m the ringleader and the other girls my flock, you should indeed hire him.”

The Queen sighed. “Guarding sheep isn’t like guarding twelve girls too clever for their pantaloons. If you’d like to visit our steward, he may have other positions open.”

The next to interview was a haughty young man with golden hair. He reminded Susannah of Agravar from the enchanted palace.

“Mr. Finder,” the Queen said. “What skills can you offer for our special project?”

“I always choose the correct door,” the man claimed. “It’s my christening gift. If the princesses evade my watch I’ll always know what door they hide behind.”

Susannah wondered if the man could detect what magical door they hid behind, but the door didn’t exist. She used her powers to create it each time. In fact, she could do it from anywhere in the castle, though it was easiest through Calypso’s armoire. Hers had the fewest clothes in it.

“Where have you worked before?” Susannah asked him.

“I worked with Pete & Benjamin’s Animal Circus in the funhouse,” he admitted, shamefaced. “I helped children find their way out of the mirror maze. But I did a little sideshow work—lady and tiger stuff.”

With a spare quill, Susannah scribbled her mother a message.

Choose him! He will know at all times we’re behind the door of our bedchamber.

The Queen drew an “X” through Susannah’s note. “Mr. Finder, your skill might be better put to use in our Lost and Found department. If you will go into the hall and turn to the left…well, I’m sure you’ll know what door to open.”

****

For more dialogue, visit:

Kelly Maher
Shelli Stevens
Michelle Pillow
Lauren Dane
Leah Braemel
Jaci Burton
Elisabeth Naughton
McKenna Jeffries
Moira Rogers
Taige Crenshaw
Vivian Arend
Juliana Stone
Anya Bast
Lacey Savage
Shelley Munro
Sasha White
Ashley Ladd
Victoria Janssen
Eliza Gayle

For more about SUSANNAH, visit: www.jodywallace.com

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

Simon's Cat is a meankitty, in case you were wondering

2009-10-02T16:07:00.001-07:00

The good humans at Hachette contacted me (Meankitty) to see if I'd like to review the book Simon's Cat in his very own book. Moreover, we get to give away a couple paper copies to people or cats who live in the US or Canada. Without further ado, here's my take on the book.

***

Simon's Cat (hereafter known as SC) is approximately a level 3 meankitty. He seems capable of driving Simon, his human, to his wit's end but does not often delve into the psychotic destructo side of maintaining one's SOHC membership. Brute force is a workable method to keep humans, other cats, dogs, and so on under our paws, it's true, and there's nothing like the shriek of a wounded human in the morning.

However, I cannot recommend enough the sophistication and subtlety of psychological manipulation, which elevates one to an advanced degree of mean. I heartily approve of SC's methodology as revealed in this book, as this is the approach I myself favor. Yet SC doesn't shy away from the occasional blood letting, and it appears that no breakable item in his house is safe. Good work, SC!

There is sufficient evidence in the book to conclude that SC is capable of the registered SOHC techniques of:

--Sleep disruption (human sleep, not cat sleep)
--Karate claw sneak attacks
--Getting In The Way
--Destruction of property
--Wildlife harassment
--Time and location sensitive regurgitation
--Securing the grounds against strays
--Laundry unfolding
--Dog aversion
--Collar, medicine and vet avoidance
--Schizophrenic affection seeking
--Sink habitation
--Computer keyboard manipulation
--Inconsistent food consumption
--Height acquisition

I would give page numbers as references but the book is devoid of such human considerations -- and also of words.

My advice to SC if he wants to attain the next level of meankittydom is to quit being friendly with the wildlife and gnomes. Gnomes eat cats and sometimes the plaster ones are only PRETENDING to be plaster. They are not to be trusted. Granted, SC's determination to mimic a birdhouse in order to get an easy snack is to be admired, but I cannot help but notice that most of SC's less gloriously feline moments come when the poor hairy dude is wandering around outside, like a near-stray.

If you don't win a copy in the contest or want to give one as a gift, Simon's Cat in his very own book is one that meankitties and their humans will definitely enjoy so you should still get it for your cat book collection, which I KNOW you have in a place of honor in your home, right? Both Pink Thing and Loud Thing have been enjoying the pictures in the book, and Pink Thing (age 7), who actually GETS the humor, laughs like a hyena so much that Typing Slave takes the book away from her after about 5 minutes. Small doses.

You can find Simon's Cat:

On the web: http://www.simonscat.com/
On YouTube, with the viral videos that started it all: http://www.youtube.com/user/simonscat
At the publisher: http://www.hachettebookgroup.com/books_9780446560061.htm

Online at:

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Simons-Cat-Simon-Tofield/dp/0446560065/ref=ed_oe_p
Barnes & Noble: http://search.barnesandnoble.com/Simons-Cat/Simon-Tofield/e/9780446560061/
Powell's: http://www.powells.com/biblio/1-9780446560061-0
Indiebound: http://www.indiebound.org/book/9780446560061
Borders: http://www.borders.com/online/store/TitleDetail?sku=0446560065

***

For the giveaway details, visit this contest page on Typing Slave's site: http://www.jodywallace.com/contests.htm

Sincerely,
Meankitty and Typing Slave
http://www.meankitty.com/ * http://www.jodywallace.com/

Cover & Blurb for December 09 Release

2009-10-02T14:12:00.000-07:00

Could I get any more excited with the blog entry title? I didn't even give it the courtesy of an exclamation point. Probably because my editor made me take most of the exclamation points out of the text of What She Deserves, so I'm trying to break myself of my exclamatory habit. Yeah, that's EXACTLY what I'm doing.

Whoopie or no whoopie (okay, let's be honest, the book has some major whoopie in it, and I don't mean Goldberg), here is the cover by Samhain cover artist Natalie Winter:

Pen name on cover: check
Red dress on heroine: check
Hot dude: check
Bad dancing: you can't have everything
(But if you want to pretend the hero and heroine just got finished with a synchronized exhibition of cabbage patchy goodness, you go right ahead. I know I do.)

Here is the official blurb:

Then: Geeky science nerd. Now: Most Likely to Fall in Love!

At seventeen Winifred Sampson was sure of three things. She was a nerd, she hated Peter Duvall, and her crush on the quarterback would never be reciprocated. Ten years later, she can safely revise two of those constants. She’s a sexy, self-confident woman, more than woman enough to seduce a former high school football player. She doesn’t spare a thought for that turkey Peter…until she sees him at the reunion.

My, how he’s grown!

Peter never cared that he and Winnie were the class nerds. So they were smart. So they didn’t have dates. Big deal. Now they’re both smart and successful. She was always his fantasy girl, and he’s decided to make a few of his own dreams come true…in the most carnal way possible.

All he has to do is convince her he’s graduated—with honors—from dud to stud.

Warning: This title contains explicit sexuality, bad dancing and man-on-door violence.

***

I got two exclamation points in the blurb. Frankly, I was surprised. I wasn't surprised!!! because I am not allowed, but I was surprised. I'm also supposed to work on my schizophrenic approach to the "toward" / "towards" conundrum and write the sequel to Survival of the Fairest faster; we'll see how much progress I make towardstoward those goals in October.

More details--the release date for WSD is December 22, 2009, so if you need to get yourself something hot and funny for the holidays and the famed stripper duo of Santa and Rudolph are booked, you could do worse than What She Deserves.

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

Meankitty Wants to Know: Barb Meyers and Pepper

2009-09-28T04:36:00.000-07:00

Author Barb Meyers and her dog Pepper have graciously answered my questions for today. Barb writes humorous contemporary romance, and Pepper helps...inasmuch as dogs help with anything besides eating table scraps!

***

1) Why did you decide to be a writer instead of a cat sanctuary owner?

At the time, all the cat sanctuary owner positions were filled with individuals much more qualified than me. Alas, I had no choice but to become a writer instead and settle for adopting numerous animals over the years.

2) Why do you think cats are better than dogs? (Since you call yourself a writer, I trust your answer will be eloquent.)

Cats are independent. They can do their business in a box in your laundry room. You don’t have to put them on a leash or open a door and let them outside several times a day. Cats bathe themselves. They don’t need your help. Cats can entertain themselves as well, and chew toys are not necessarily required. A cat can sit and stare out a window for hours at a time and be perfectly content. This sort of activity will bore a dog after about thirty seconds. Dogs are high maintenance.

3) Tell me about the felines in your fiction. How often do they appear and how big a part do they play in your narratives?

Uh-oh. I think I’m in trouble here. If I recall correctly, the second of my romantic comedies, TRAINING TOMMY, contained a lovely Persian feline by the name of Victoria, but I think that’s the only book I’ve had published where a cat played a major role. Does it help that Victoria made Tommy’s dog Skid miserable?

4) On the off-chance you have yet to incorporate cats into your fiction, when do you plan to rectify this egregious error and demonstration of poor writing skills?

I’ll try to incorporate more cats into future works.

***

1) So, your human writes books. Are they (a) full of praise and hyped up lies about dogs; or (b) do they contain interesting stories? If A, interview is over. If B, you may continue.

(b)

2) If writers are supposed to be so smart, why does your writer have a dog instead of a cat when it's common knowledge cats are better? Does that mean your writer isn't very smart?

Oh, no. My writer is brilliant. She has had numerous cats over her lifetime. The most recent one was named Minnie who arrived by way of the local Humane Society. Minnie was fearless. Unfortunately, she met with an untimely death a couple of years ago. If you ask me, I think a dog did it.

3) So why did your human end up a writer instead of an animal sanctuary owner or something like that?

I thought she was an animal sanctuary owner! Isn’t this an animal sanctuary? There’s hair everywhere. Oh wait, it’s mine. And there’s this other old dog hanging around all the time. Correction. I’ve just been informed that’s my writer’s husband. There were these other two mongrels that lived here for years and years. I think they recently got adopted out. What’s that? Oh, sorry. She says those were her two children. Apparently, they grew up and moved out.

4) Does being a writer mean your human is home all day and easy to access? What is her day like?

No, she’s not home every day, but I can always tell if she’s going out. If she has shoes on, she’s leaving. If she’s barefoot, she’ll be around, in which case that means she’ll get on her bicycle and take me for a run or she’ll walk me down to the corner and back. She’ll pet me every time she walks by me, too. If she’s got her green apron with her when she leaves the house, then she’s going to work her shift at Starbucks. If she’s sitting at the kitchen table with her laptop, she’s writing.

5) As a dog, you're probably not devious or fascinating, but on the off-chance you do have feline traits, what are your techniques for distracting your human during crucial writing moments?

I shake my head so my ears flap. That usually gets her attention and she asks what’s wrong with me, do I have fleas? Hmpff. As if. Sometimes she has to lift up my ears and look at them just to make sure. If I scratch that distracts her, too. Sometimes I do this little dance just for the heck of it. She thinks it means I need to go outside. Sucker.

6) What indignities and neglect have you suffered because of your human's writing career (besides the absence of a cat to properly rule the house)?

My human’s friends tell her I am the perfect dog. I’m very laid back and undemanding. I rarely bark. I like everyone. I don’t get petted nearly enough. My therapist claims this is a common complaint amongst us canines. If I lay on the rug near her feet, she’ll foot pet me, though. I’ve become an expert at laying with my head on my paws and looking forlorn and neglected. It makes her feel guilty and easy to manipulate.

7) We've established your human doesn't write stories full of hyped up lies about dogs. Tell me about the felines in your human's fiction. How often do they appear and how big a part do they play?

In a yet-to-be-published fantasy novel, there is a cat named Magic based on a friend’s feline. Magic is still pissed about being, um, fixed and avoids his human except to torment her at random intervals. But toward the end of the story, he comes to her defense. It’s a love/hate relationship.

8) When your human gets together with other writers, do they spend half their time sniffing each other's butts like dogs do?

Ewww! No. Gross. No one wants to see that. Not even me.

9) What is your human's next project (bonus points if you answer: getting a cat)?

I didn’t know we were on the point system! But I’m pretty sure we’re not getting a cat. My human’s been working on a sequel to A MONTH FROM MIAMI which came out in print earlier this year. It features Rick’s twin brother Ray as the hero. She’s just about ready to submit it so keep your fingers crossed that her editor loves it.

****

Sincerely,
Meankitty
www.meankitty.com

Snippet Saturday: First Paragraphs

2009-09-26T05:13:00.000-07:00

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This week the theme is first paragraphs, so it should be a quick read! I'm posting the first paragraph from Survival of the Fairest. Technically, it's the first two paragraphs but it could have been one. I think it introduces our heroine and her attitude about life pretty well.

***

“I need a new tooth.”

Talista, Crown Princess of the fairy Clan Serendipity, dropped the last of the bribe onto her twin’s rosewood dressing table. The spell chits represented half her savings and her sister probably wouldn’t take them, but she had to try. “Will you be my tooth fairy?”

***

For more first paragraphs, hop on over to:

Kelly Maher
Shelli Stevens
Michelle Pillow
Lauren Dane
Leah Braemel
Jaci Burton
Elisabeth Naughton
McKenna Jeffries
Moira Rogers
Taige Crenshaw
Vivian Arend
Juliana Stone
Anya Bast
Lacey Savage
Shelley Munro
Sasha White
Ashley Ladd

***

Jody W.

www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

Meankitty Wants to Know: Missy Jane

2009-09-21T05:22:00.000-07:00

Missy Jane submitted her interview to me months ago and has been waiting patiently for her chance to go live! Please welcome her in true SOHC fashion, by staring at her, unblinking, until she feels really uncomfortable and then sticking your butt in her face. Hey, it's how we roll.

***

1) Why did you decide to be a writer instead of a cat sanctuary owner?

Though I love and respect felines, the voices in my head insisted that I write their stories rather than simply sitting around all day telling cats about them.

2) Why do you think cats are better than dogs? (Since you call yourself a writer, I trust your answer will be eloquent.)

Well...let's just say that dogs might be man's best friend, but diamonds are a girl's best friend and what is just as dazzling, invaluable and precious as a diamond? A cat.

3) Tell me about the felines in your fiction. How often do they appear and how big a part do they play in your narratives?

My current published book, They Call me Death, is about shapeshifters of all species. I do mention canine shifters but haven't created a main feline character...yet.

4) On the off-chance you have yet to incorporate cats into your fiction, when do you plan to rectify this egregious error and demonstration of poor writing skills?

Hopefully by my third book I will have honed my skill to the level where I can properly do a feline character justice. I'm still a newbie after all.

[ Meankitty's Note: Keep us posted! Authors who write about cats don't get the butt in face, they get the paw on leg. ]

5) What are your favorite works of fiction involving cats or favorite fictional cats?

Dr. Suess' Cat in the Hat is definitely a fave, as well as Puss in Boots. However the Cheshire Cat of Alice in Wonderland tops the list. I especially like Frank Beddor's version in his Looking Glass Wars series.

6) Do you have any amazing, or at least humorous, real life cat stories you'd like to share?

Unfortunately no :(

[ Meankitty's Note: She's sadly deprived! I cry tuna scented tears for her. ]

7) Multiple choice 1. What is your preference and why?
A) Long hair
B) Short hair
C) No hair
-- Note: I am not, of course, referring to the hirsute qualities of your most recent hero or heroine.

I'll have to go with short hair. Though I love running my fingers through long hair, the clean-up is not so fun.

8) Multiple choice 2. You have a writing deadline but the cat who rules you wants some attention. Desperately. Do you:

A) Lock the cat in another room and keep working?
B) Pet the cat for a couple minutes and then toss her cruelly aside?
C) Pet the cat as long as she wants because you know it will inspire and refresh you? -- Note: If you answered anything besides C, we suggest you consider the fact you could have written a much better book if you had been inspired and refreshed instead of mean to the cat.

Well, I don't have cats, but I do have kids and from that experience I'll have to answer C.

User submitted:

How goes the discussion about discipline in your house?

Basically I rule the roost and everyone falls in line. As it should be.

What one thing would you change about your pet?

I have no pets. My kids take all of my free time.

Do you think pets and humans come to resemble each other over time?

Absolutely! I've seen it and it's frightening. One of the main reasons I will never own a bulldog.

Can you type with a cat stretched out across your wrists? If not, why not? Otherwise, how's the carpal tunnel?

I've never tried that, but I can type with "mommy" being repeated over and over in my ear.

[ Typing Slave's Note: TEACH ME HOW, PLEASE! ]

When you're in the zone with your writing, what does your pet have to do to get your attention?

If I'm in the zone I might not even notice a bomb going off, so my (hypothetical) cat would have to be very inventive.

***

Sincerely,
Meankitty
http://www.meankitty.com/

Naps Are For Sissies and Cats

2009-09-20T06:24:00.000-07:00

The other night DH and I got only three hours of sleep because Loud Thing (#1) had developed a spiky fever and other flu-like discomforts. It was hard to sleep with that hanging over our heads, so we took her to the doctor first thing in the morning, fearing the flu.

Good news: not the flu.

Mediocre news: it's coxsachievirus (hand, foot and mouth disease), which she seems to be especially prone to. No idea why--perhaps she has especially sensitive hands and feet? This means fever for a couple days, loss of appetite, crankiness, uncomfortable blisters in mouth, hands & feet. Nothing we can't deal with.

That afternoon, in order to survive the rest of the day without making any dangerous, zombiefied mistakes like leaving the gas burner on the stove on all night (no comment), DH and I tried, for the first time, to take a quick nap while both girls were awake. The cats do it all the time. Why not humans?

Here is the sequence of events that comprised our one hour "nap" (and yes, I really mean the sleeping kind of nap):

4:01 pm: Gave girls specific instructions to leave us alone. Started a dvd. Told them they could wake us when it was done but not until then.

4:03 pm: #2 asked if our taking a nap meant she got a pacifier (she gets her paci during naps--hey, *somebody* was taking one!)

4:05 pm: #1 and #2 fought over what dvd to watch (when we'd already chosen and started the dvd they were going to by god watch because DH suckered into buying it for #2 after the doctor visit)

4:10 pm: My sister called to find out if #2 had swine flu.

4:14 pm: The cats got in a huge, squalling tussle at the foot of our bed.

4:16 pm: #2 wanted a bottle of juice. Having cruelly denied our poor, viral child a pacifier, we caved on the bottle since she needs as many liquids as possible.

4:20 pm: Meankitty sat in the doorway and scratched the door jamb while staring at my husband.

4:21 pm: DH threw his pillow at her to make her stop.

4:22 pm: DH had to get up and get his pillow.

4:27 pm: #2 decided she didn't like the movie and wanted to color.

4:31 pm: #1 complained about #2 using all the crayons and not sharing (there are 25,876 crayons).

4:41 pm, ten blissful minutes later: #2 needed help putting her pants on.

4:45 pm: #2 needed help with the potty.

4:47 pm: #2 needed help putting her pants on again.

4:51 pm: Door to door Jesus salesman wanted to help US; should have suggested babysitting while we napped.

4:53 pm: The cats decided to practice for NASCAT.

5:00 pm, when we had originally planned to get up: #1 wanted to use the scissors, and I said no.

5:05 pm: #1 wanted to complain about not getting to use the scissors.

5:19 pm: #2, waking me from a deep sleep, brought me a bunch of cut up paper flowers that #1 had prepared for her -- with the scissors -- so I could admire their beauty.

5:22 pm: #1 and #2 got in a kung-fu battle in the living room, right next to the bedroom door, imitating the movie they'd seen (Barbie and the Three Musketeers--those French hussies were secretly karate masters). Since the scissors had already been confiscated, no one was hurt. No one under the age of 18. My brain and body were suffering immensely.

5:26 pm: The rain and wind picked up outside.

5:27 pm: Falling persimmons from the tree next to the back porch startled the cats, which upset #1 and #2. There was much screaming.

5:29 pm: #1 asked if there was going to be a tornado. A tornado of exhausted RAGE, I told her.

5:30 pm: The alarm I'd set on the stove went off so I'd remember to check on dinner. To my disappointment, dinner had not magically prepared itself.

5:39 pm: #2 crawled into bed with us looking for her pacifier, which she'd left on the headboard the night before, and we realized her fever had spiked again.

5:40 pm: We gave up and got up. #1 informed us that #2 had peed all over the bathroom floor (totally separate from the time she requested our help in the potty). There wasn't much left--it had mostly drained down the vent.

"Why didn't you let us about this when this HAPPENED?" I asked her.

"Because you TOLD me not to WAKE you," she replied.

I guess I should just be thankful it wasn't something worse.

What types of things usually interrupt your naps? Cats and humans are both welcome to respond.

Jody W.
http://www.jodywallace.com/ * http://www.meankitty.com/

Arrrr

2009-09-19T12:38:00.001-07:00

You will be seeing me on this blog again.

Oh, yes. You will. But today is my day so I'm making an early unscheduled appearance.

Arrrr.

Sincerely,
Dread Pirate Yarno

Snippet Saturday: You Want a Piece of This?

2009-09-19T05:38:00.000-07:00

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This week the theme is the protagonist kicking butt, physically or metaphorically, I suppose. I don't tend to write a lot of fight scenes and fisticuffs. This short excerpt from Survival of the Fairest takes place in the middle of a crowded casino where the hero (Jake) has asked some friends of his (Venus et al) for help getting away from one of the antagonists (Embor, the fairy Realm's leader) and his underlings. Needless to say the casino (palace) guards aren't pleased.

***

“You too, buddy.” The guard loosened his shoulders as if expecting a fight.

Nothing happened for a few tense seconds. Embor nodded. Then, chaos.

The tree-sized fairy grabbed Jake’s shoulder while the female tried to shove her way into the circle to get Tali. Venus threw herself on the back of the fairy menacing Jake and let out an earsplitting screech. More palace guards protested and moved in.

Embor tried to muscle his way between the blonde woman and a redhead, but they wrapped their arms around his body.

“Hello, gorgeous!” said the redhead in a throaty voice. “Where’ve you been all my life?”

Tali didn’t have a chance to enjoy the sight of the shocked and priggish Elder in their embrace. Two other ladies grabbed her arms and headed toward the back of the casino. No black-clad fairies marred her path.

Son of a sevensie, was she going to get away? But what about Jake?

Tali heard the smack of flesh against flesh followed by a masculine grunt and a thud. A glance over her shoulder revealed Jake sprawled on the floor, rubbing his jaw. Venus still clung to the huge fairy’s back, but he didn’t appear to care. Several guards grasped him by the arms and tried to pull Venus off him.

“Jake!” she cried out.

“Talista, do not accompany those persons.” Embor whipped out his communication device, but the blonde lady snatched it from him and dropped it down her capacious bosoms.

“Give that back.” Embor shrugged off one arm only to have another wrap around him from the other side. A hand rumpled his hair.

“Search me, baby,” she said. “I think you’ll be really surprised at what you find.”

Even as she strained to watch, Tali’s escorts zipped her around a block of machines and she couldn’t see or hear any more.

***

For some butt kicking that's probably a lot more violent and decriptive than anything I write, you can visit:

Jaci Burton Elisabeth Naughton Ashley Ladd Moira Rogers Taige Crenshaw Lauren Dane Victoria Janssen Vivian Arend TJ Michaels Juliana Stone Lacey Savage Eliza Gayle Sasha White Shelli Stevens Shelley Munro

The Meankitties of September 16

2009-09-15T12:28:00.000-07:00

Here's one of them:

He seems to be saying, "How you like me now, huh?"

Visit: http://www.meankitty.com to see the other new cats in the gallery.

Sincerely,

MK & TS

www.meankitty.com * www.jodywallace.com

Meankitty Wants to Know: Mari Carr

2009-09-14T05:08:00.000-07:00

Steamy romance author Mari Carr was traumatized by a cat in her youth and now professes a love of dogs. That's a tough one. While we encourage the traumatizing of humans in the SOHC (Society of House Cats), it must be done with enough finesse that the human not turn to dogs to soothe herself. Clearly the cat in question is in need of remedial psychological inconsistency training (the art of being just inconsistent enough NOT to send a human to the dogs).

****

1) Why did you decide to be a writer instead of a cat sanctuary owner?

Well, truth be told, I needed the extra money to help put my kids through college. I know it’s a selfish excuse, but sadly, it’s true!

2) Why do you think cats are better than dogs? (Since you call yourself a writer, I trust your answer will be eloquent.)

Errr…well, this one is sort of tough for me. I’m not exactly sure this is the best time to come out of the closet, but well…the fact of the matter is I’m a dog lover. There—I said it. I’ve come clean. Phew! I can’t tell you how good it feels to be able to say that out loud. I’ve hidden that embarrassing truth for years.

3) Tell me about the felines in your fiction. How often do they appear and how big a part do they play in your narratives?

I love to use animals as a way to showcase a character's character. I believe you can tell a great deal from someone by how they treat their (or other people's ) pets.

Actually there have been kitty characters in a few of my books. The one that comes to mind as a major player in the plot is Duke. In Erotic Research, my very first book with Samhain, the heroine Julia was devestated by the death of her beloved cat, Duke. For nearly a decade, he’d been her only family, her best friend. His death left her with a huge, gaping hole in her heart and, lacking a better choice, she filled that emptiness with her hunky, too-hot-for words editor, Ross!

4) On the off-chance you have yet to incorporate cats into your fiction, when do you plan to rectify this egregious error and demonstration of poor writing skills?

I must confess that looking back on my past works, I have failed to include enough strong cat leads. I would certainly like to address this unspeakable mistake in my next book, however, I’m starting a series involving cops who shift into dogs, so that may prove to be rather difficult…and, um…dangerous for the cat.

[ Meankitty's Note: Not if the cat shifters also in the story are bigger :) ]

5) What are your favorite works of fiction involving cats or favorite fictional cats?

Gotta admit it—my favorite cat of all-time is Garfield. Not sure if it’s his love of food or hysterical sarcasm that appeals to me more, but I have more than a few of his Sunday cartoons clipped out and hanging on my office door!

6) Do you have any amazing, or at least humorous, real life cat stories you'd like to share?

Don’t know if you’ll appreciate my story, but I’m actually a bit afraid of cats. I was traumatized by my roommate’s cat in college. Never met a meaner cat. She would crouch in the open doorways of our bedrooms waiting for me to walk down the hall at which point, she would pounce. And I don’t mean in a playful way. I spent two years covered in claw marks and bites! I think this sort of explains my everlasting love of dogs!

[ Meankitty's Note: Heh heh heh heh heh! Sounds like a Gallery candidate. ]

7) Multiple choice 1. What is your preference and why?
A) Long hair
B) Short hair
C) No hair
-- Note: I am not, of course, referring to the hirsute qualities of your most recent hero or heroine.

I would have to say A. I love to have something soft and furry to rub my fingers through! Oh no—don’t let my hubby see this! If he asks, my answer was C!

8) Multiple choice 2. You have a writing deadline but the cat who rules you wants some attention. Desperately. Do you:

A) Lock the cat in another room and keep working?
B) Pet the cat for a couple minutes and then toss her cruelly aside?
C) Pet the cat as long as she wants because you know it will inspire and refresh you? -- Note: If you answered anything besides C, we suggest you consider the fact you could have written a much better book if you had been inspired and refreshed instead of mean to the cat.

Um…C? Was that the right answer? Oh, phew. You were scaring me a bit with that evil meankitty eye!

User submitted:

Do you think pets and humans come to resemble each other over time?

I don’t know if they resemble each other physically, but I could swear that personality-wise, they do. My last dog was the twin of my son in terms of character. They acted exactly the same in nearly every respect. So much so, that my hubby jokingly started referring to our son as Scooter (our dog’s name)!

Can you type with a cat stretched out across your wrists? If not, why not? Otherwise, how's the carpal tunnel?

I’ve never tried to type with a cat on my wrists, but I can report that I find writing with a glass of wine in hand completely do-able!

When you're in the zone with your writing, what does your pet have to do to get your attention?

Sadly, my dog passed away last year and I swear I can still hear his little paws clip-clapping across our hardwood floors from time to time. He used to do the cutest thing and I swear to goodness, it worked EVERY time he wanted my attention. He would just put his little paw on my hand and look at me with the sweetest puppy dog eyes. It was a no-fail for attention and something I miss to this very day.

****

Sincerely,
Meankitty
http://www.meankitty.com/

Snippet Saturday: Worldbuilding

2009-09-12T05:04:00.000-07:00

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This week the theme is worldbuilding, one of my favorite parts of writing fiction with speculative elements. Of course, worldbuilding isn't only about made-up stuff, it can also be about settings and cultures that actually exist. The trick is making whatever you're writing about come to life for the reader. Yes, even the undead :).

Here's a clip from my first published piece of short fiction from Amber Quill called "Strip-O-Gram", in which I am attempting to give life to a very VERY familiar environment.

****

"If you'd just take this visitor's pass, Ms...?" The receptionist held out a white clip-on badge.

"Ms. Babette." I accepted the nametag and clipped it to my lapel.

"Follow this hall and take the center corridor between the cubicles. You'll see the main offices in back. Mr. Guillaume's office is the second from the end on the right."

Sandra said nearly everybody at Vanishing Breed had an open air workspace to equalize employee status. However, the No-Dating Policy Violating Asshole was a bigwig with a private office. That was one of the reasons I agreed to this--not that he was a bigwig, but that he'd be my only audience. It was one thing to perform on stage or for kids at the hospital, obviously in a different costume, and another to sing and shimmy for an entire cubicle farm, one of whom might be the guy from the party.

Once I got off the carpets and hit the hallway, my heels clicked on the tile. Now it was time to earn my money. To bring the heat and cause the controversy Sandra was paying me for. She claimed the bigwigs here, Mr. Guillaume included, were so uptight just the sight of me would give them apoplexies. I added some swing to my hips and a sultry half-smile to my lips. I tossed my dark hair, which I'd rolled this morning so it fell in loose curls halfway down my back.

A couple of scruffy guys in khakis and polo shirts gossiped at a water cooler--how stereotypical--and their eyes widened as I sashayed toward them. Neither one of them was the guy from the Christmas party, the guy I knew oh-so-well.

"Hello, fellas," I said in my best breathy starlet voice. "I'm looking for Nate's office? Nathan, I mean." I let my coat gape so the tops of my corseted size Cs bulged out at them.

"I'll take you there," the pudgier guy said. He straightened, barely taller than I was in my four inch heels, and I was no Amazon.

"Thanks, sweetie." I adjusted my velvet choker and let my hand smooth down my chest and straighten my trench. If eyes could reach out and touch someone, I'd just been royally felt up. Yep, these guys would be gabbing all over the office about the woman who came to see Mr. Guillaume.

We ambled down the center of a large room of cubicles. Overhead fluorescents bled the color out of everything. I'd hate to work somewhere like this full time, but in view of my finances, it might be time to consider it. Heads and chairs swiveled like sprinklers, checking me out. I smiled and simpered and shook my ass, vixen incarnate. The occupants of the far cubicles popped over the tops. I tried not to look anybody in the eye--tried not to look for him. The only time I'd been to Sandra's office was that party, and it had been on the first floor, not up here.

I didn't see Sandra. Dammit! She was supposed to drag Mr. Guillaume's secret girlfriend here at eleven-thirty sharp to increase the commotion. Sandra was a dear friend, but she could be really driven on occasion--typical Scorpio. I thought her plan to get this guy in trouble was spiteful and dumb, but five hundred bucks was five hundred bucks. And really, I was just going to sing a song. Where was the harm in that?

My coat gaped open further as we neared the back of the room. The wall was comprised of shiny steel and...glass. Lots of glass.

Glass doors. Glass walls. The private offices weren't private.

Oooh, I was gonna get Sandra for this! Maybe charge extra. Was this a prank on her jerky boss or on me? What had I ever done to her besides talk her into that yoga session to relieve some of her pent-up anger? Not my fault she dislocated her shoulder.

The suits in the offices did double takes away from their computers or phone calls as I traipsed past, Pudge-Boy leading the way like the white rabbit. Second door from the end. The door wasn't shut, and my guide waved me through.

Behind the desk, a dark-haired man faced the wall of windows that looked out over a small green space. No gray in that hair or spots on the hands, so not old, but still potentially a prick. On the opposite side of the little park was a similar building where you could see other executives plugging away.

"Happy birthday, Nate," I purred, again in my sex kitten voice.

He turned.

It was him. The guy. From the office party. The guy I'd nearly screwed was Sandra's jerk. The guy I'd nearly screwed was an uptight prick who was supposed to have a heart attack at the sight of me.

****

For more examples of worldbuilding be sure to visit:

Michelle Pillow Kelly Maher Mark Henry Jaci Burton Elisabeth Naughton Ashley Ladd Moira Rogers Taige Crenshaw Lauren Dane Victoria Janssen Vivian Arend TJ Michaels Juliana Stone Anya Bast Lacey Savage Eliza Gayle

****

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

Meankitty Wants to Know: MJ Fredrick and Mama Kitty

2009-09-07T04:56:00.000-07:00

Give it up today for the cat who owns author MJ Fredrick, Mama Kitty! Sounds like she's got a lot to deal with, what with several other cats, a DAWG, small humans and MJ's obsession with "that writing thing" to deal with.

***

1) So, your human writes books. Does this mean he or she is home all day and easy to access? Elaborate if necessary.

Sadly, she is not easily accessible during the day. She leaves while I am sleeping on the couch and returns home when I am sleeping on the kitchen counter (oops). She returns smelling of children, and I want nothing to do with that, until she showers. Then she curls up on my couch with her screen and completely ignores me, other than a few cursory pats. You’d think she’d miss me while she is gone. After all, she is the one who dragged me home with her from that children factory last year.

2) How large a proportion of her income do you have her devote to your gourmet tuna, cat beds, toys and other basic necessities?

Hmph. Since I have to share my space with four OTHER cats and a DOG, of all things, I’m lucky to get a can of wet food every other day. Since she won’t buy me a bed or toys, I’ve shown her. I sleep on her green couch and shed my white hair, and I steal her pens and paper clips and play with them outside her bedroom door in the middle of the night.

3) What are your techniques for distracting your human during crucial writing moments, just because it's fun?

Oh, I have quite a number. I yowl at the other cats JUST when her fingers are typing fastest, usually late at night. I hack up the grass I ate outside. Some days, if I’m feeling kind, I nudge my head under her elbow until I can stretch across her belly, right next to her computer. Then I dig my claws into her skin.

4) What indignities and neglect have you suffered because of your human's writing career?

She LEAVES US locked in the house for a week every summer and sends her baby brother (NOT a cat person) to check on us. Then she returns home with books that she stacks all over my favorite napping spots. After a few days of extra-long naps, she is more enamored than ever of her computer. Even my barfs don’t distract her.

5) Tell me about the felines in your human's fiction. How often do they appear and how big a part do they play?

She. Wrote. A. Dog. As far as I know, that’s the only pet she’s written. I think she did write about cheetahs once, but that story sucked. Was before my time, though.

6) On the off-chance your human has yet to incorporate cats into a story, what are your plans for making sure she rectifies this egregious error and demonstration of poor writing skills?

I do my best to inspire her about how regal and sublime a cat can be. Why she chooses to ignore my experience, I have no idea.

7) What works of fiction or cinema involving cats does your human enjoy sharing with you?

Not one. She justifies it by telling me that action adventure movies don’t have a place for cats, but I see that as speciest. Why can we not have adventures just as much as those idiot dogs from Beverly Hills Chihuaha?

8) If you could make one change to your human, what would it be?

She would have more hands.

User Submitted:

Question for pets: Are you happy with your human? If you could tell your human one thing, what would it be?

I am mostly content. The house is large enough that my litter box is separate from the other cats. The many windows mean I do not need to share sunlight with the others. The house is suitably warm in the winter and cool in the summer, and she mostly knows when I need food and water.

If I could tell her one thing? Get rid of the orange cat. Sadly, he seems to be her baby.

What things does your human do that would mortify it if known? What does your human do that most annoys?

Would mortify? Bwahaha! Every morning she has the exact same breakfast that she’s had for years and years (according to the other cats, when they deign to speak to me). And it’s not a healthy breakfast, either. It includes a Diet Coke.

And her worst annoyance? Rising at 4 AM. Does she not know that it is my duty to wake her from a sound sleep? How can I do that when she wakes before I do?

***

Sincerely,
Meankitty
http://www.meankitty.com/