Fly: Welcome to my humble abode, dear Kathi.
Kathi: It’z the internet, dear Fly. Everyone livez here.
Fly: True, but humanz have had a monopoly thuz far. Fliez have only juzt arrived.
Kathi: (proudly) Which is why I am here today as Scooter, the cat.
Fly: Aah, and I thought that waz artificial fur you’re wearing! White coat with grey ztripez. And the eyez - one green, the other blue. Heterochromia, izn’t it, Zcooter?
Scooter: Well, I ameow a mixed breed.
Fly: Much like your upcoming novel, I underztand. Let'z ztart with that. It rezidez around one Sunderland family, Rainbow Bridge, Superstition mountain et al. You have ztrikingly mixed the very nature of certain principal elementz in the ztory - az if to not let pre-conceived notionz form, or perhapz to break the zhacklez of thought. Iz that the objective?
Scooter: Very much so. My pets are my life, and we are breaking many moulds so that they may free themselves of the life which has taken them on a downward spiral. But they shall prevail, for they are far stronger than they realize. I only wish that I were with them during this journey, but alas, I must guide them from afar.
Fly: Zo when you zay petz, you mean the family?
Fly: Interezting! Well, tell uz about them.
Scooter: There are four youngsters - a tough Kenny, reticent Jimmy, Stacy the dancer and my favourite, Krissy, the youngest. There are also the older teen twins, loyal and audience to more trouble than their years deserve, and their hard-working mother. And then there’s the drug-maker dad. All the individual variations would make it a family of innocent sweetness, were it not spoilt by that one agent of wrath in the house.
Fly: You zeem to not like him, not that I can’t underztand why . . .
Scooter: Oh, I definitely do not. The jerk put something in my litter-box the other day - probably a revenge for jumping at him from the refrigerator the other day. The noise its pop-pop-pop made drove me meow. I had to run as far as the Rainbow Bridge outside. I tried to keep an eye on the children from afar, though being nearer may not have helped either, given how I couldn’t keep Krissy from crying even when I gently rubbed against her once.
Fly: I zee. What I am particularly drawn towardz iz the adult “pet” you zeem to have zo kindly overlooked - the mother who workz hard. Zo do you, wouldn’t you zay? Gently rubbing baby Krissy, clawing at her dad, keeping a dezperate eye on the petz’ protection even while zaving yourzelf - iz that how you approach life in reality too? Or iz that the inevitability of rezponzible exiztence?
Scooter: I am their benevolent ruler, much like a human king. They look to me for comfort when all is bad. They play with me, using their toyz when all is good. The mama pet is particularly in need of my comfort in the dark hours of the night. She hides her tears and bruises, she thinks, but I and the twins know of them. We are the ones she leans on to regain her strength and be a better mother to her family. Truly a strong woman.
Fly: And yet, I have heard zome call your life an adventure. And for good reazon. You were in the Air Force, flying off to Zpain and Germany - Frankfurt, the Hahn Air Base - and pozzibly half of America. And here you are now . . .
Scooter: A lot of who I am today has to do with the earlier stint. I learnt so much about life in the Air Force. I always liked flying, though writing was my first love. I tried my hand at Accountancy but the childhood fascination with Astronauts eventually had its say. I remember our young days out hopscotching and biking, and (laughs) how we used to jump ramps where we attempted to fly beyond gravity to reach the moon.
Fly: I don’t quite underztand the fazcination with the moon. Az I zaid on Valentine'z day, Zweet Fly iz never imprezzed. But anyway, it’z eazier zaid than done - flying. I’d know a thing or two about it.
Scooter: (smiling) Indeed. You probably never rode a bike though.
Fly: Oh, no. But my daughter - Teeny Fly - iz an expert on zkateboardz. I recently came across girl-power exprezzed through zkateboarding in Afghaniztan. Teeny’z in her own little world when zhe’z on it. Zpeaking of which, your blog iz called Out of Control Characters. That quite zumz up all your workz, doezn’t it?
Scooter: It does. Those characters rule my life. They are in charge, often taking their stories in directions I never conceived. Yet, all works out in the end, and they have the story they want.
Fly: Ever planning to get them in control, or will the wordz keep scaling highz of imagination?
Scooter: To quote my husband, it’ll stop "when they nail the coffin closed."
Fly: (smiling) Or maybe it’ll continue through the people thoze characterz inzpired over the yearz. Thank you very much, Zcooter.
Scooter: Thank you too, The.
Fly: The iz my firzt name. You can call me Fly. It’z more familiar. Well, all the bezt with the novel, and go eazy on the dad pet.
Fly: Right. God zave the guy then! March 3rd, Kathi'z Lost & Scared on Amazon. And to my audience, we leave you with an excerpt from the book below. Enjoy the read!
For more Author Interviewz & Book Reviewz, check out Earth.
The window in my bedroom that I share with my two younger brothers overlooks Main Street. I angle my head, so I can attempt to see where my twin is.
“See Keri?” Axe, my best bud, asks.
“Nope. But I do see a bunch of cars leaving.” I face him and grin. “That means she’s on her way back.”
“Great. We can leave now.”
“Looks that way.”
He and I race down the stairs. The normal noise of a large family during winter holiday break greets me, along with what can only be described as evil snickering. We come around the corner, shoving and pushing to see which one of us gets to the bottom first, with me gaining an inch on my bud.
“Yes!” I pump a fist and hop down the last three steps, the satisfaction of proving once and for all that I’m the best pass receiver on our team.
“I am so going to beat you one of these days,” he says.
We knuckle bump and clown around.
“Ready when you are, honey,” a strange female voice says.
“Huh?” I turn around.
A woman who looks like a million miles of bad road stands beside the open front door. Before I can ask who she is and what she’s doing in our house, a series of loud bangs precedes the sound of a cat yowling. That noise sends fear shivers through every inch of my body, and I don’t scare all that easily.
“What the heck?” Axe pushes me aside. “What’s going on, Shane?”
“Don’t know.” I point at the woman. “Who are you?”
“Jake’s honey-poo,” she purrs.
That response is wrong on so many levels, beginning with Jake is my dad’s name. The last time I checked he was still married to my mom.
“Who are you two handsome hunks?”
Gross. Sick. Yuck! She sounds just like Scooter when he catches a mouse.
Just as I’m about to tell this loser from the wrong side of the tracks to get lost, Scooter races out of the kitchen. A mix of who knows what, he has gorgeous gray and white striped fur and I can only describe him as fat and slow.
Slow comes nowhere close to describing that streak racing for safety. Scooter howls out his fear. His fur stands on end and his tail is so fluffy that it looks ten times its normal size.
Connect with Kathi & her characters here:
Google +: https://plus.google.com/u/0/+KcSprayberry/posts
Amazon book list: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=k.c.%20sprayberry&sprefix=k.c.+%2Cdigital-text
Manic Readers: http://www.manicreaders.com/KCSprayberry/
Bookz featuring me:
An Enlightened Fly
The Fly That Followed Me
Kalki Evian - The Ring of Khaoriphea
Malay A. Upadhyay
Gilbert Literary Agency