If I peer into the quiet corners of my daily life I see real things that my fictional characters have welcomed into their world. You may think it’s my imagination so I can do as I please, but oddly, this isn’t the case. In Stratford I must step lightly because I am their guest.
On page 5 of The Color of God Lillian’s furry companion makes his entrance:
“The familiar creak of the last step alerted Mr. Blue Suede Shoes, Lillian’s Himalayan cat, to his mistress’ arrival. He stretched, then rubbed his chin against Lillian’s leg. ‘You missed breakfast on the fire escape!’ Lillian scolded, but her speech died on her lips.”
In this photo, our female kitty, Damascus, makes her appearance beside my 1850 Parisian urn with a broken handle. Out of the blue this magnificent antique pushed its way into a scene on page 100 where Jesse’s passionate emotions get the best of her. When Lillian asks her what she’s doing and Jesse yells, “My job!” with the intent of hosing off people she doesn’t like the scene turns:
“Lillian grabbed at the urn. ‘You’ll do no such thing; calm down!’
The fragile handle of the antique broke off in Lillian’s hand. Jesse stopped her tirade and stared at the handle. She wilted as she spoke through her own lament. ‘Oh, Lillian… I’m such a maniac. I’m so sorry.’”
It’s my own delight in furry creatures that love us unconditionally that inspires me to make room for animals in my writing. And, as far as broken things go, life isn’t always kind, but God is our healer. In his tender hands, our broken lives, are made whole.
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