google analytics

Monday, June 26, 2017

To A Life Uncluttered


I’ve been sitting here wondering what my subject for the day should be.I know some bloggers plan their posts weeks ahead. I sometimes do, like when I plan on doing a series as I did with my series on the Colors of Emotion. Most of the time I sit down at my desk the day before my blog is scheduled and begin to write. I feel this gives my readers a more in-depth glimpse into my world.

Now you might think I put little to no thought into what I write by doing it this way, but that is the farthest from the truth. From the time I post the previous week’s blog post, my brain is processing subject matter and ideas for the next one. Don’t you just love how the brain can multitask, sometimes without you even being aware of it?

When I sat writing in my journal this morning my mind was torn between to subjects. By the way, journaling is a great place to come up with all kinds of ideas. Not only for your blog… if you write one. It also helps you organize your thoughts, I like to think of it as a way of putting all of those ideas your brain has been multi-tasking at creating, into a workable filing system. Some call it thought-dumping. Whatever you choose to call it, having a journal helps get your mind unscrambled after a long day of dealing with life’s little curve balls.

Back to my morning journaling, I was batting around the idea of whether to write about how I spent my week uncluttering my writer’s life, or about what it’s like to have a parent with Dementia. I felt like I had sort of covered the putting to order my life in another post, but then I thought no, I had mentioned it when announcing the closure of my old website. As for writing a post about what it has been like for me since I was told my mom had Dementia, and possibly the early onset of Alzheimer’s, well that one will be for another day.

So here we are back to what the post is about. I guess you could say it is one about how to go about getting rid of the clutter in not only your mind; but also your life. And how keeping a journal helps me do that. In one of my journaling sessions, I kept thinking about how overwhelmed I felt with how many blogs I was writing. Especially when one of them just seemed to exist without giving value.

 I also looked over my website and realized how much I had changed since the first moment I sat down to create it.It was at that moment that I decided to start getting rid of the things that weren’t working for me to make room for the things that are, and will in the future.

I announced the closing of my accountability blog on WordPress and that my old website had been replaced with a new one. Both will go dark at the end of June. I set about re-designing my website, making it more about what it was created for; a platform for me as a Writer.

When I hit publish this time on my site, I wasn’t sitting there thinking am I proud of this, do I even want to promote it. That was exactly what I was feeling with the first one. This time I am proud to promote my new site, feel free to check it out. R.A. Buster-Writer.


You’re probably wondering what I meant about having an uncluttered life. It’s quite simple. We all carry baggage around with us, be it emotional or physical. I do a thorough cleaning once a month of both my room and my emotional thoughts. How do you clean emotional thoughts, well here I am back at journaling? Once a month, I close myself somewhere quiet where I won’t be disturbed and vent. I journal all the pain, hurt feelings, anger… any of the emotions that are affecting me, and causing me to feel weighted down. Things that curb my creativity.

You ask how can you do this? How can you write something so personal down, where there is a possibility someone may find it and read it? I had those same fears when I began journaling. I live in a busy household, and being a very private person, to begin with, it took me a bit to open up to a blank page my deepest and darkest thoughts.

I lived in constant fear that someone would open my journal, and see me as a monster. You know what… one day I decided if they wanted to read my personal journal then they would just find out the true me.Not the image I put out so that people won’t see how broken I truly am.

This isn’t just something I came up with out of the blue, I have as you know Bipolar Disorder and Anxiety/Panic disorder. A few years back, I started seeing a therapist, to help me to deal with my anger issues. The first exercise she gave me was to write a letter to my anger. I know weird but it helped.

The second exercise was to keep a journal. And get this I was to bring it to therapy each week, and if I felt like it, I could share it with her. I never got around to the place where I could share my journal with her. I bared too much of my soul in my journal for even her to see.

What my story shows is that journaling is a good for you. It helps you mentally unburden yourself. Once you close the journal, forget it. Start fresh. Uncluttered.

Now for getting rid of the clutter in your physical life, that’s a bit easier. You can get the cleaning supplies out and go to town. I don’t know about you but the smell of a clean house improves my mood so much. Forget Calgon take me away, Pine-Sol does that for me. Once the house is clean, it’s time for the closets.

I know what you are saying. “Is she kidding me?” Monthly closet cleansing helps shorten the once year closet clean out. I just go through my closet, and if I didn’t wear or use it in the last month, I put it away to see how long it takes me to find it and put it back. If I don’t, then it’s already pulled for the end of the year cleaning.

The one place that always will be in disarray is my desk. With everything going on in my life in with regards to my mom, my health, and my writing; it just never seems to get cleared off. On that subject, I just concede to the fact that at least I have a life to be cluttered.

I leave you with this- try keeping a journal for a week just to see if it helps. Even if it is a daily recollection of events. Give it a try and let me know if it works for you. And best of all it doesn’t have to be fancy, all you need is a notebook and a pen or pencil. I even know people who journal on the computer. It all comes down to what makes you comfortable.


Well, I’m off to see if I can find some papers I need underneath the hodge-podge that covers my desk. As always live life fully, and laugh often.

My Desk








Tuesday, June 20, 2017

Changing Your Mind About Time



I hear all the time people saying they’ll do something if they can find the time. Hell, I’m guilty of this too. I feel like there are just never enough hours in the day to accomplish everything that I want to. If I can’t even get my laundry folded and put away what makes me think that I can write a book that will reach best seller status. Or whatever your goals in life might be.

And then to top it all off, there is this tiny negative voice in your head, that nay-says everything you do. Makes you doubt that you have what it takes to reach your goals, to follow your dreams. The hard part is sometimes it feels like I am hard wired to accept this defeatist attitude. I have let it hold me back before, and you know what I have to show for it a whole bunch of nothing.

I don’t know how many times through the years that I have sat down with pen and paper and began to write my book. I would be writing along at a nice pace, feeling like this time, was THE TIME. I would finish this book and get it published, but then that voice woke up and started whispering in my ear. All of a sudden life starts putting road blocks in my way to eat away at my time. Or that was the excuse I used while adding this latest notebook in the box with so many others that began the same way. To sit forgotten while my dream was once more put on a back shelf to be only that; a dream.

 When I sat down this time to begin my book I was lucky enough that I had discovered a couple of great writing groups on Facebook, and one, in particular, has really helped me to get where I am. I would never have said I could be a blogger; nominated by my fellow bloggers for my content. Or that I would have reached the 50,00-word count on my first draft. The person who runs the group has given me a new found confidence, helped me to set my goals, and offered guidance.With her help, I'm not letting anything stop me from achieving them. Her name is Jennifer Blanchard.

Jennifer is an Amazon best-selling author, speaker, and a strategy and mindset coach. She and the group she runs on Facebook: The 1% Writer’s Club helps writers who believe they will be in the one percent of all writers. The ones who are published or are in the process of getting published. We have made it our goal, and set our minds to accomplishing all that we want. That little voice has no power when you set your course and stay true to it. Jennifer has also helped me improve my writing with her blog and group posts aimed to help all of us to become better writers. She is what I think of as my writing life guru.

You're probably wondering if time still is a problem. As I stated above, there are only twenty-four hours in a day. It’s how you plan them that makes all the difference. You decide what’s important and that goes first on your schedule above all other things. And you do it! No matter what, you do it! Other things can be rearranged, but this is one thing on your schedule that is never changed. I set a word goal of five hundred words a day. They may be in my manuscript, my blogs, or in my journal; but I do it every day. No exceptions!!

When I started doing this I found that I was making time to write. I would feel anxiety if I didn’t get to write. It has become as important to me as breathing. Does my other duties and obligations suffer? Not in the least. I found by scheduling my day, I found the time that wasn’t being utilized. I had made my priorities and stuck with them. The rest fell into place around them. I know some of you are thinking, yeah but I have kids, a job, and other responsibilities.

 Believe me, I know. I am my mother’s adult caregiver, I help take care of my special needs nephew, and deal with a chronic illness that leaves me exhausted. It’s not about being rigid, but making a flexible schedule. If you generally write in the morning but have an appointment scheduled, change your writing time to the afternoon. I’ve found that sometimes a change in the time of day you write helps with keeping the creative juices flowing as much as a change in scenery.

On Saturday’s, I sit down with my scheduling notebook and my calendar of appointments. I first write in any appointments for the coming week first. I, then add in my writing time. After those two things are done, I begin with the weekly household chores. When I was working I had to do this all on my two days off, now I can spread them out. The last thing I add is the flexible stuff. The stuff that doesn’t have a deadline or that involves someone else’s schedule. Once done, I leave a blank square for what I call extras. This is for those odd things that pop up during the week that you may have forgotten about, or just seem to happen. I put them on this square and put the date completed when it is done.

Time will always be your enemy, but with a plan and a scheduling system, you can manage it better. You will see your productivity increase, as well as some of your goals, be accomplished. By the time you have it down to an art, you will have accomplished all of your goals. Remember you first have to make up your mind that this is what you want. The mind is a great helper or goal-killer if you listen to all the doubts that will creep in. Having a positive mindset, and a plan will see you reaching new heights and finishing goals. I, for one, see my books published and achieving success. What do you dream of doing? Why not start today?




Sunday, June 18, 2017

Memories of Dad


With today being Father’s Day, I feel like sharing some of my favorite memories of my Dad. Sadly, he passed away in May of 1999. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about him and miss him. To wonder if he would be proud of the woman I am today.

While taking my journey through the dusty roads of my recollections, the first memory I find is one that always pops into my head when I think about him. It is the sound of his laugh. I wish I had a way to replay it for my brothers, just to ask if it’s the same laugh they remember. For a man who never went a day without a struggle, he always could find a reason to smile and laugh.

He had a laugh that was almost a cackle, but it was just a tad too soft to be considered that kind of laugh. He laughed with his whole body. It’s hard to describe but as he began to laugh, his eyes would take on this mischievous twinkle, and then his body relaxed into the moment. I think it was because he carried so much tension at every other moment in his life.

His laugh was also contagious, my Dad never laughed alone. Once he started everyone in the room soon followed. I always thought it funny that my Dad and one of my uncles had almost the same laugh, but where my Dads was felt from the heart. I never got that feeling from my uncle.

My second favorite memory was listening to my Dad sing. He had a voice that could have taken him places, but he suffered crippling stage fright. He loved to sing old school country like Hank Williams Sr., Conway Twitty, Johnny Cash. My Dad was a teenager during the birth of rock-n-roll so he loved Elvis, Jerry Lee Lewis, and Buddy Holly. I think that my Dad was like me and he just loved all music. He was always willing to listen to the new stuff we kids were listening too and give it a chance.

When asked to describe his voice I would say it was a perfect blend of Elvis and Conway melded together. He had that low growl that drew a woman’s ear, and his vocal range was amazing. I never found a piece of music that my Dad couldn’t sing. I remember bringing home the music from my high school choir, that we were rehearsing for our latest performance, and Dad helping me practice.

Some of my most cherished memories are those spent with my dad sitting around the kitchen table singing along to the oldies radio station or my collection of cassette tapes.It used to drive my Mom crazy. To this day, I wish I had pushed record just once to capture the sound of his voice. Not only for myself but for his grandchildren that never got to know him.

Now we come to the memory most little girls grow up dreaming about. The day they get married, and their Dad walks them down the aisle.

The day of my wedding was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, the temperature was in the high seventies; which during the planning stages was a blessing, seeing how I was married toward the end of October. Living in the Midwest, it could have easily been snowing and bitterly cold. In fact, it had snowed a week earlier.

The wedding was scheduled for four in the afternoon, with the majority of the guest arriving from out of town. This was due to a last minute change of venue. Our new venue was under our carport, you know just in case of bad weather since my fiancee and I wanted an outdoor wedding.

My best friend had stayed the night, and my mother lived only a few blocks away. We were all watching for guests to arrive, not to mention the preacher. To say the least my nerves were on a fine edge. To top it all off we had just moved to our house a couple of days before, so we were dodging around boxes. My eyes kept an eagle eye out for the gun metal gray car my step-mother drove. Most girls want their Moms on their wedding day, I wanted my Dad.

The guest started to trickle in around three, mostly because they weren’t sure where they were going and had left home early. At that time all I had accomplished was getting my hair and makeup done. I was outside greeting guest in a pair of shorts and a tank top. They kept asking me if I was getting married in this outfit. I was quick to say that until the preacher showed up, the wedding might end up just being a great party. I was only half joking.

I had just stepped out on the front porch for what felt like the millionth time that day, when I saw my stepmom's car coming down the road, followed closely by the preacher. Our best man and matron of honor pulled in last. I ran out to the car to get hugs from my stepmom and Dad. The preacher and his wife joined us and gave my attire a strange look. I laughed and told them I was on my way to dress, and we could start soon.

What should have been a quick process of getting my dress on ended up an ordeal? When I started to get dressed in the bedroom only to find out that our door wouldn’t shut all the way, seeing as how the guest was milling around right outside it, I had to grab everything and head for the bathroom. Our four pm wedding was now a five in the afternoon wedding. At a quarter to five, my Dad met me on the front porch to escort me down the aisle.

He looked me over in my powder-blue denim dress with the antique ivory lace accents and told me I was beautiful, and that he was proud of me. He then laughed his beloved laugh with a twinkle in his eye. He said, “this is it. You have two choices, one- I can have the car running on a seconds notice, and the highway is that way.” Here he pointed towards the highway. “Or two- I can lead you around the corner to marry your fella. Whichever way you choose, I’m behind you one hundred percent.” He stood waiting as I actually debated the options. I told him that I needed to make an honest man of my fella, so as I linked my arm through his, we headed for the carport and my future.

That is why I loved my Dad so much. He always gave me options and offered me advice. In the end, though it was my own decision, be it right or wrong. Also, he was there no matter what the outcome of those decisions may be. It has been hard through the years to make my decisions without my Dad’s special brand of wisdom. I think that is why he is on my mind so much lately. As I’m entering this next chapter of my life, I wish he was here to give me options and help me decide the right course to follow.

To all of my readers, who are Dads. I want to wish you the Happiest Father’s Day! This also goes for all of those Mom’s out there who pull double duty and do both jobs. Just remember to live life fully and laugh often.




Sunday, June 11, 2017

Remembrances of May



I was busy the other day taking care of all the paperwork involved in settling my mom into the nursing home when I stopped cold and took a long look at the calendar. The month of May had passed in a blur of activity most of which was laden down with anxiety and stress. What had made me stop was a date circled almost smack dab in the middle of the month. I had forgotten it. A date I haven’t missed in so many years. I felt just awful. I sat back in my chair and watched as the circled date became blurry through my tears.

She was just a tiny thing when we met. All eyes and ears. I had gone in search for something different but instead found her. I stood looking in at the kittens behind the glass. Some were napping, while others tried to play in the little room they had in their cages. I was drawn to a cage that held a trio of Tuxedo kittens. Their black and white markings those like Sylvester, the Cat, I secretly thought maybe I ought to get a yellow parakeet too. My mom was with me that day to help me decide. I think it was more to ensure that I came home with only one kitten, not more.

I had moved to Tacoma, Washington a few years before. When I had moved I had to give up my cat Sebastian, a beautiful Tuxedo to a new home. I was moving in with family on a military base after a bad divorce. I just didn’t have the money to take care of me anymore let alone him. He was better off with the family I found. Now here I was back on my feet, but lonely. A cat lady with no cat. I felt empty without a purr buddy in my life. So when my mom came to live with me, we decided it was time for some feline love.

I was watching the kittens as I studied the adoption procedures from a pamphlet the pet store clerk had given me. I liked the fact that the kittens were from the local shelter, there on loan. I hated thinking that they came from a breeding mill. I felt a presence beside me and turned thinking it was my mom but it was a stranger. He smiled at me and asked which one I was interested in. I wondered if he was an employee, but he wore no badge or uniform. I told him I was interested in one of the black and white kittens, there was one, whose markings were interesting. I imagined how they would look as he grew.

He agreed that it was a cutie. I had decided on a male, and when a woman wearing the store t-shirt entered in to take care of the kittens I asked her what the sex was on the kitten I had chosen. It turned out that all the Tuxedo kittens were females. I was heartbroken.I had my heart set on one. The other cats being offered were older, but I have special needs where it comes with cats. I am extremely allergic, so I have to train them not to scratch me. It is hard to this with the older cats, so I turned to hunt for mom. It was time to go home empty handed.

Mom and I headed out the door and was walking across the parking lot when the guy who had talked to me, called for my attention. I was kind of worried, he was after all a stranger. I told mom to go on to the car and met him back in front of the store. He asked if I really wanted a kitten, I rolled my eyes and asked him sarcastically what he thought I was doing just a few minutes before. He laughed and shocked me by telling me I was cute. It was at that moment I noticed he was kind of cute himself with a set of killer eyes. How had I missed eyes the color of a sparkling Peridot?

That tells you the power cats hold over me when I missed a handsome face standing right next to me. Anyway, he told me he knew a lady who had a couple of litters of cats. He wasn’t sure what all the colors were but he said he could introduce us if I was interested. I told him to let me discuss it with my mom and I would get back to him. I headed back to the car and told mom what he had said. Even telling her about him saying I was cute. She turned to study him for a bit and then told me it was up to me. My instincts were telling me to go meet this lady, so I went back and told the guy I was interested.

He asked for my phone number and told me that he would go talk to her and then give me a call if she was interested. I searched through my purse for a blank piece of paper and quickly scribbled my number down for him. I watched to see what vehicle he got into and then told mom we might as well head home until we heard back from him. It was a couple of hours before I would hear back from him, in fact, I was beginning to think he was not on the up and up with me. I was sitting lounging back on the sofa, while mom napped across the room when the phone rang. It was him. He told me the address, and we made arrangements to meet there in an hour.

It turns out that the lady was the proverbial cat lady. And the police had given her notice to get rid of the cats, or they would be coming in to take them from her. She, in fact, had two litters outside, one of them being a litter of beautiful seal point Siamese and the other a litter of orange tiger kittens. I went over and check the Siamese having been a breeder years before of Himalayan kittens. The poor babies were covered in fleas and didn’t look too healthy. She said she also had a litter that was on the verge of being weaned, but they were inside. I asked to see this litter of kittens.

The kicker was it only had two kittens, the rest had died. Both were female. Something urged me to ask to still see them. She went into the other room saying the mother had made her nest in the bedroom, in the back of the closet. Mom and I waited for her to return, making small talk with the guy instrumental in this introduction.It was a couple of minutes later she returned with one small gray, black and white kitten. She said she couldn’t find the other one which was white and black. I asked to hold the little ball of fur, and she said she would go see if she could find the other one. I could have told her not to bother, but she had already exited the room.

The small creature I held in my hands fit in just one hand truth be told. She looked up at me with the biggest pearlescent blue eyes. They reminded me of the color of my Dad’s eyes. I always thought it funny that his name meant misty-eyed, that was what this scrawny, little lady's eyes were. Right then and there I named her after my Dad. CeCelia, a big name for a tiny bit of fur. I held her up for my mom to look at and told her what I wanted to name her. My mom studied her for a few seconds and shook her head in agreement. The lady came back in the room, her hands still empty. I told her I would take the one I was holding. She seemed to relax a bit, one less kitten to worry about.

I snuggled my little CeCelia, to my chest as we exited out into the bright rare sunshine-filled day for the Pacific Northwest. We stopped to watch the other cats roaming around the lady’s backyard. I asked her when was CeCe’s birthday. She smiled. “I can remember her birthday perfectly. She and her sister were born on Mother’s Day. My daughter and her children had come by for a visit. The kids were playing in my bedroom when they told me mama cat was acting funny. We all gathered into the room, and that was when I found the first kitten. She was an older cat, and I knew that this would probably be her last litter. We all watched as she gave birth to the rest of the litter.” She reached over a scratched my sleeping kitten's head.

“I have had her mama for a long time, and she looks just like her. I’m glad she is going to a good home. Her birthday is May thirteenth.” I thank the lady again, and we headed out to my car. Mom got in and I handed our new passenger to mom to hold while I stopped and thanked the guy. He told me he was glad at least he could save one kitten, but he would be back for the next couple days at the pet store offering the cats to people before they were taken away. We said our goodbyes and parted ways. I drove home with my new baby, she was a very good passenger.

That was almost ten years ago. I have never missed celebrating CeCe’s birthday once in all of those years. We have a ritual, I take her picture, and then she follows me to the kitchen where she supervises me opening a can of her special food. She only gets wet food on special occasions.I think her birthday rates as a very special occasion. I missed my baby girl’s birthday. I can’t get that day back. And her tenth birthday, we have been through so much together, and I forgot her birthday. My tears have continued to fall, dropping down into the collar of my shirt.

I feel a nudge against my head as she jumps up on my desk. She always comes to check on me when I’m crying. Soon I have Neko up beside her. They both nuzzle me and make small purrs. Neko meows at me as if asking why are you crying, Mama. He climbs into my lap. My big furry therapist. I smile through my tears. I tell him I forgot sissy’s birthday, and he reaches over and gives her a nuzzle. She sits perfectly poised on my desk, and I promise her that next year she will get two cans. And I promise never to forget again. I think she has forgiven me. It may take me a bit longer to forgive myself.

Thanks for journeying down memory lane with on this Glimpse of My World. I hope you enjoyed it. Remember even our fur babies deserve to have their birthday celebrated. After all, if they hadn’t been born, they wouldn’t be here to provide you companionship. As always I hope this finds you living life fully, and laughing often.


Saturday, June 3, 2017

Time For Some Sunshine.


When I woke up this morning, waiting in my inbox was an unexpected surprise. My friend Theresa Jacobs had sent me a notice that she had nominated me for a Sunshine Blogger Award. I know some people think these nominations are of little consequence, but to me, it means someone is indeed noticing the hard work I put into providing entertaining and informative blogs.

I noticed she chose blogs that were geared toward either pets or authors who write about animals in some way. My nominations will be to some of my favorite’s that I have found in my journey across the web.

The questions were in two parts. I figured since I fall into both categories, I would answer all of them. The rules for The Sunshine Blogger Awards can be found below.

As I visited the other nominees, I found most only nominated three authors/bloggers and a number of questions varied. I will stick to the three nominees tradition. And will pose ten questions.

Here are my answers to Theresa’s questions:
(Pet bloggers)
1.  How many animals do you own? What types and names.
I don’t own any animals. They may think they own me, but I choose to share my life with two cats. They are named CeCelia(CeCe) and Neko. I live with my brother, and he has two cats, one dog, and a couple aquariums filled with fish.Their names are Bo Jangles, Dominic, Magic, and the fish all have names but I really don’t have the time to name them all. Recently my mother’s cat, Gizmo joined the group.So we have a very full house.

2. How do you keep a blog fresh from a pet's perspective?
With a house full of animal’s there are not many dull moments. There is always something new to be discovered or to wreck havoc on.So as an author I just need to keep alert, and if possible always have my camera ready.

3. What made you decide to write about or with your animals?
I decided to start my blog called The Adventures of The Cat’s Eye Gang when I was creating my author's page. I was looking for some way to draw an audience into visit it and be introduced to my works in progress. I was brainstorming ideas with my sister in law one day, and the cats were feeling the coming full moon and were more crazy than usual. The idea was born.

4. If you could tell the world one thing that is most important to you as a pet lover, what would it be?
Always spay/ neuter your pets. And never buy. There are shelters full of the most beautiful animals just (literally)dying for a new home. Rescued animals are the best pets in the world. I speak as the slave of several.

(Animal Character)This next portion will be answered by one of the characters of my current WIP: The Cat’s Eye Chronicles Book One 
5.Why did you choose to use animals as your main character? Is your animal real or mythical?
Hey y’all. My name is Neko, and I am a member of The Cat’s Eye Gang. That lady asked my mama/author why she chose animals as characters. Well, we are characters. Somewhere along the way of writing about my real life counterpart, I was born. I have all of his traits, but I think I am much more handsome. I mean I am a Pantheri prince and all. Am I real or mythical? Let’s just say I’m mythically real.

6. Do you give them human-like appendages? Or try to keep the characters close to their true form?
I, for one, have no idea what a human is. Wait, is that one of those critters that we see on rare occasions, but when we get close they disappear.I am a Felis. Our history says that once we walked on all fours but I just can’t see how that could be. I’ve heard this word Catus thrown around among some of the elders, but to find out more that would mean I would have to listen to a long drawn out speech, and sorry nope.I got things to do. I have fur and claws, so you figure out the answer.

7.  Obviously, for writing, they must use English, but in character do they have a language that humans would not understand?
Okay here is this human word again. We speak Camerian, and of course, CeCe, Azereus, and I speak Mithralian. In my dreams, I sometimes hear voices speaking another language but I’m not sure what it is. Maybe it is my mother tongue, Pantheri.

8. Tell us a bit about your animal characters world?
Our world is both ancient and evolving. There are crumbling ruins of places that time has forgotten. For the most part, we are told as children to avoid them. There are majestic mountains with snowy villages scattered among them. The tall forest house many mysteries, and then there are the valleys where my home of Cat’s Eye is. The trees seem to speak to me as I cavort among them. The hidden caves have been a delight to explore for my friends and I. I have heard there is a vast body of water on the other side of the Tlaqix Mountains. Maybe one day I will find out.

Well, that was all the questions given to me, so here are my nominees for this award, and their glorious questions specially approved of by The cat’s Eye Gang. I nominate Jenna Moreci, Sam Kasse, Kent Wayne.

And now my questions for them are as follows or should I say for one of their characters.

1.What genre did your author write you into? What makes your character a great fit for this genre?
2.What is the hardest thing about being you?
3.Do you agree with all of the choices your author makes for you?
4.Does your author play favorites? If so, are you considered a favorite?
5.If you could speak directly to your readers, without the author as a middleman, what would you like them to hear directly from you?
6. If you are not the protagonist in your story, do you wish you were? Why/why not?
7.What’s the most interesting thing about you?
8.Do you like the story your author has written you into? If not, why?
9.Do you think there will be a sequel to your story, and if yes, will you be in it?
10.What is a hidden talent you have that the author hasn’t utilized, or discovered yet?

There ya have it, folks. Thanks for checking out this post, and I hope my nominees will at least consider joining in the fun. Until next time. Live life fully, and laugh often.