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If she could read, Pink would check out the tales of the Ginge Club and make sure she’s presented in the best possible light, as the most beautiful, alluring and fashionable pink cat who ever lived.  I’ve told her that’s exactly how she’s presented in the stories, and in the blog, but I don’t think she trusts me entirely.  That’s why she’s been staring at my Kindle, trying to see inside it.   She probably thinks it’s a mirror.  She knows what mirrors are because she spends hours every day staring into the one in our bedroom, preening herself and showing off to the looking glass.  Alleycat’s different.  He says he doesn’t care what anyone thinks so long as he can sleep whenever and wherever he wants and demand food at the drop of a hat.  Of course, he’s given me a few guidelines.  For one, thing. I’m never to give Snatcher too much attention or importance and for another I’ve got to impress everyone with Alleycat’s fine qualities.  Bamber alone of our three cats has little interest in such matters.  He doesn’t care about social media and his heart is set on being a cat and staying a cat and doing the best he can at being that.

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This is Pink’s Snatcher look.  She learned it when Snatcher lived with us and terrorized the rest of the animals with his high-handed haughty ways.   Its years since Snatcher left Wayside Cottage and went to live with the Car-Man (who taught him to be nastier than he needs to be) but you can see there are things behind his eyes that he doesn’t bother to hide.  The same goes for Pink.   All our cats have secrets in one way or another, except for Bamber.  He’s simple and true and honest.  He wears no mask.  He’s the only normal cat we have.  Snatcher was a dreadful thief, and he lied all the time, almost without trying.  He never took the blame for anything but when he left we found a large stash of contraband (including some precious stories) behind the wardrobe in the spare room, where he had his quarters.

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A fat cat thin or a thin cat fat?  When Alleycat was young he was thin, but suddenly one day he became enormously fat, like a bear getting ready to hibernate, or like a cat leviathan.  But there was method and purpose behind his bulking-up.  He was building his physical power in the knowledge that soon he’d be poisoned (and he was) but he got himself through his ordeal and burned off the poison by burning away his fat.  He came near the Door of Death, and he saw through it, and who knows what arcane knowledge he glimpsed out of the edge of his cat’s eyes in those days when the prison was attacking him. But now the poison’s gone and he’s as thin and fit as he was when he was young, and as for me I’m a little bit fatter than I’d like to be, so Alleycat and I have started running together.  We jog together along the disused railway line near my house, and sometimes we stop and listen for the ghostly whistling of the old-time trains.  By the way, it’s Alleycat in both of the photos, fat and young at the top, old and thin at the side.

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Pink thinks everything becomes her. Some animals change colour to match their surroundings, but Pink’s surroundings change texture and hue according to her whim and fancy. In her youth she was abject and easy to upset. I found her once on the worktop in the utility room, crying because one of the local cats had been nasty to her. She slept on my pillow that night, and for many nights afterwards, and sometimes I think I may have given her too much confidence and paid her too much attention for her own good, because now it’s all so different and instead of being a shrinking violet she’s a little tyrant. In the old days even Bamber used to bully her a bit, because that’s what boys are like. Alleycat used to wonder if she could really be one of us (meaning one of the Ginge Club) and when she went out of doors we worried that she’d never come back – she was that weak and puny. But now the Ginge Club are all at her command and she’s their Queen and even Alleycat does her bidding and makes way for her.  Her glass might have started off empty but it didn’t stay empty for long, and these days it only takes one look from her for her cup to fill up with her favourite liqueur just simply because she wills it so.

Even our kitchen is PINK!
And our glassware is PINK TOO!

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Do cats rate chips?  Bamber does.  I gave him a chip on my fork and he lapped it up. I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I did. For the last month we’ve been in the throes of getting a new kitchen installed, and during the whole of that time we haven’t had water in the taps.  Hence we’ve relied on processed food and home cooking has eaten dust.  But Bamber loves rubbish food, he loves fatty chips, meat products laced with bad chemicals and oozy fatty liquors.  And that’s what this episode has taught us. It’s also reminded us how stubborn he is.  He refused to give up asking until he’d had his chips.  He sat on the edge of my plate and demanded them until he was given.

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This afternoon we couldn’t find Lucy.  We didn’t think she’d be anywhere except in the house, but one of the neighbours called over the fence to say she was out in the Six Foot, running up and down.  She’d been ignoring us.  We ran outside and saw Pink a few feet away,  looking down from a high fence post.  That little cat had been there all the time, watching and acting important and we realized that she’d tempted poor Lucy to slide under the gate and run over the lawned garden where the cats hold court; and once past that gate you can see the Six Foot through Alleycat’s hedges. You can bet Lucy didn’t hesitate when Pink showed her how to negotiate the twisted boughs and the prickly spears of hawthorn that stand guard on Alleycat’s turf.  Bernie didn’t miss her daughter at all and was quite happy to be on the sofa alone, without Lucy getting in the way and demanding our attentions.  There she is in the video, pleased as Punch.

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When Snatcher lived in the Six Foot the rest of the animals spent their days and nights waiting for him to do something bad.  Now that he’s gone, they can all relax and be a little bit naughty and eccentric themselves.  Snatcher’s nastiness equalized everything and it wasn’t possible for anyone else to be bad while he was around, because compared to him their nastiness would have looked like the acme of good behaviour. Now that he’s left the pressure’s off, and Bamber can be naughty if he wants to. He doesn’t have to spend his time watching Snatcher and waiting for him to step out of line, and he doesn’t have to patrol the Six Foot and stop the neighbourhood cats from coming to paying Snatcher court. Instead he can try stealing my dinner (no one minds this) and Alleycat can sit in front of the dogs’ water bowl and stop them from drinking (he does this a lot, it’s his prerogative).  Everyone here’s the best of friends and yet in a weird, unexpected kind of way we all miss Snatcher and wish him nothing but the best, just so long as he never comes back!

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You can follow him, my girl cat Mars (Marceline the Vampire Queen) and her biological brother (and nemesis, apparently) Barnaby, on Instagram at #marsandbarsandcars (@frootjoos)

For now, I'm off to make him another batch of kitten formula :/ he's so little he can't feed himself yet!

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Category: Picture book
Keywords: Cats, neighbors, friends, compassion
Format: Hardcover, Paperback, eBook
Source: Finished copy for review

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a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Filed under: Children's Books Tagged: cats, caution, December 26th, funny, holiday, hunor, kitties, rug rats, stupuid stuff, video, videos

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Spooky helping me write Many things happened to me in 2012, some good, some bad. But the one that affected me the most was the passing of my beloved cat, Spooky. She was 17 years old and had a failing liver. I was hoping she'd make it through the holiday season, but she didn't. I got her from a shelter when I was living in Phoenix. She was a wee thing, an elegant tuxedo cat with a dribble

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Ratha's Creature Graphic Novel Sample Page

I'm excited to announce that, after months of planning, we've launched a Kickstarter project to fund a graphic novel version of Ratha's Creature. My company, Imaginator Press, is the current publisher of the Ratha series, and last year author Clare Bell and I started discussing the possibility of creating a graphic novel version, both as a gift to the loyal fans, and as a way to bring Ratha to a new generation of fans. We put out a call for art submissions and selected a fantastic art team, who have been working to develop characters and create samples. But to make this dream a reality, additional funding is needed, so we turned to Kickstarter.

The Kickstarter project launched yesterday, and significant momentum is building. Already, on the second day, we are 16% funded, and today we were delighted to discover that Kickstarter selected our project as a Staff Pick for the Comics category! Ratha friends and fans have heard the call, and helped to spread the word, on social media, on DeviantArt, and elsewhere around the Interwebs. On Ratha fan, Jessica Alvis (*seasaidh on DeviantArt) issued a challenge to Ratha fans: post a drawing every day the Kickstarter project is running and include a link to the project.


We're off to a great start, but we need all the support we can get if we want to reach our funding goals. (On Kickstarter, projects are only funded if they reach their goal. If the amount pledged by backers falls even a dollar short of the goal, the project creators get nothing.)



Check out the project, watch the video, read about the great rewards, then please consider backing this project, and helping us to spread the word. We have some great rewards for backers, but the biggest reward is knowing that you helped to make this project a reality.

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I'd like to credit my editor Lucy Ingrams for realising that Tiny cat's favourite toy would always have to be a Tiny Tiny cat.

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I had a great time at the Jersey State Feline Fanciers Cat Show over the weekend.

So tempted to bring home a furry addition to the family, but I had strict orders from Senior Management. We both would love a cat, but sooner or later, I know one of my daughters would end up trying to take the wrapper off, which wouldn't end well for either girl or the poor animal.

I've never been to an event like this before, but when you have a book about a talking cat, it makes sense to have an author table at this sort of thing. I expected a lot more tension, what with people wanting their cats to win the various competitions. Not a bit of it. The whole show had a wonderful, family atmosphere. Everyone seemed to know everyone, even the vendors.

All in all, a long, but thoroughly enjoyable two days.

How about you?

How was your weekend?

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We have a cat Boris that always keeps me company in my studio,  he hangs out under the window and the squirrels love to tease him. Very fun to watch.

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Calling all CATS for February. These cats were line art for chapter headings for "Cat Calls" by Jeanne Adlon and Susan Logan, published by Square One Publishing. It was a very fun project to work on. Cats get a bad rap for being aloof, they have amazing personalities.

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I don't have many works where cats form the central theme of the image, but often they're in the background or part of the narrative, like these text illustrations from the Charlie Bone novels (Japanese edition), where three mysterious cats are an important part of the plot.

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collage from an add for shoes

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Found another doodle from an evening at WOMAD. I think they are howling along to something or other.

I'm working on my novel, fixing up bad sentences, knitting some bits of psychology into early scenes that should help with later ones. Clearing up character motivations, checking reasons and reactions, tidying up weird metaphors. It's slow but satisfying work.

We went to ALDI today, a small island of familiarity on this side of the world, and bought things to cook. It's expensive to eat out here, but I am really enjoying our evening outings after the sun has gone down. There is live music and loads of great places to sit and eat and drink and plan and talk.

I keep thinking of things I want to do when I get back to London - sit in the British Library and write, buy some treats from Borough Market, make a big salad in my own kitchen. Then again I feel like I don't want to go back, but move somewhere more pleasant. Somewhere the houses aren't surprised when it gets cold every winter. Somewhere with more space to go around... pretty much every time I travel to a different city the higher ceilings give me slight vertigo, and I start to calculate how many bedsits each house could be broken up into, and who could afford to live there.

But London is where I live. I'll travel back to London in a few days, and see my friends, make some books, eat some salad, complain about the rent and the weather and public transport, and it will be good to be home.

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