More about the Evils of Cats

Perhaps I should have thought this through, this retelling of White Cat.  After all, how can I be unbiased towards cats?  Let's face it, I hate 'em.  They're evil creatures, and I'm positive that they're in league trying to take over the world and make us all their underpaid minions.  Either that or they're in cahoots with the Spickens. (Long story)

I must admit, much of my hatred of cats stems from an evil experience I had a few years ago when I was taking care of our neighbor's cat while they were on vacation for a few weeks around Christmastime.  Every morning I would trudge through the snow and go feed that thankless beast and clean out its litter box or whatever it decided to use as its litter box.  It wasn't exactly picky about things like that.  The cat hated me, and I was happy to make the feeling mutual.  I think the animal was mad because its owners were not around, but that didn't make what it did any better.

And here I am, writing a novel about a girl who wears a cat mask and calls herself White Cat.  And the title of the story even has the word "cat" in it.

My friend Em and I had a major brainstorming session last night, and I came up with a much more solid plot than I had before, so that's good.  I was able to fill out some holes and iron out some problems, and I've spent a good chunk of the morning working on it.  In fact, I'm well over 10,000 words now.

By the way, the more I write Prince Damien, the more I like him.  He's the middle brother, and he's definitely my favorite.  He kind of steals the show, which is not good, since Owen is the protagonist.  I really want Damien to win the crown, and it breaks my heart that he won't be in more of the story.  I need to figure out how to weave him in a little more, although that is going to be a difficult undertaking.  I think Owen is going to have to grow on me a little before I really like him.  We haven't quite clicked yet.

The queen and I have definitely clicked.  Here's a little snippet for you featuring her Majesty, Queen Nathilde.

“Good morning, boys,” said Queen Nathilde.  She sat straight and tall in her chair, her violet-colored morning dress falling in delicate folds over her shoulders and perfectly complimenting her still-golden hair.  It was easy to see where her sons had obtained their good looks.  “Thank you for fetching my wayward sons, Master Vlemins,” she added.
            “Indeed, your Majesty,” said Master Vlemins.  He bowed and backed out of the room.
            “Now, you boys have certainly been up early this morning,” said the queen in her perfectly modulated tones.
            “Yes, mother,” said Owen.  “We were working on our fishing poles.”
            “How lovely,” said the queen.  “I do hope that when you finish you limit your fishing to the lake and do not try to take any of the fish out of the garden pond.”
            “We won’t, Mother,” said Damien.  “We want to catch the fish to eat, anyhow, and I don’t think that the ones in the pond are big enough.”
            The queen raised one perfectly formed eyebrow.  “To eat?  I think you had better not try to cook anything yourself.  I heard once of a man who ate a fish not properly cooked and was poisoned from it.”
            “Poisoned?” said Owen.
            “Indeed,” said the queen, lowering her voice.  “I understand that he was sick for two agonizing days before he finally succumbed.  He left a devastated family.”

~ The Cat of Lake Gellara

Yep.  That's the queen.

Thanks for reading, and God bless,

Kathryn