If it please (and amuse) the court…
Several months ago, the opening line of a story came to me, and it made me crack up so hard the people at the Sunday Writing Cafe demanded to know what had gone through my mind.
The first time I met the tom, I knew he was going to be trouble. He walked in like he owned the place, not an orange tuft out of place, sleek and slick and pretending like he didn’t have a problem. I knew he had one; you could see it in their eyes, and anyway, the Human wouldn’t send me one who didn’t.
That’s what I do. I fix problems. They call me the Duchess, and I know every back alley milk-dealer and fishmonger in the city.
“Oh, you have to write that!†was the general reaction.
“There is no way anyone would buy this,†I protested. “It’d be total crackfic!†Unlike my ‘real’ mysteries, written under the name L.A. Kornetsky, where I try to keep things realistic, this would have cats and dogs and humans (and rats, because what’s pseudo-noir without a dirty rat or two?) interacting in an equal and implausible level…
“That’s why it would be so much fun!†my friends went on, because they’re Like That.
“And I don’t have time to write original fiction just to amuse myself, not with bills to pay and a diabetic cat to keep in medication…†And at that point my objections tripped over their own feet.
“Do it as a Patreon,†someone suggested, sensing my weakness. “Write the cat noir crackfic to cover the cost of CatofSize’s insulin!â€
Because everyone knows that CatofSize has more fans online that I do.
But then life got busy with other things, and I pushed the story to the side….but the story kept pushing back, and I realized that writing it was going to happen, one way or the other. And CatofSize’s insulin isn’t getting any cheaper.
So here it is, your chance to encourage my more gonzo side, and see what happens in the dark corners of my mind when I haven’t had quite enough sleep and things get weird silly utterly ridiculous….