I, Effing Feline, need to clarify a recent post, in which I said Sadie the Good Dog was my Dutch cousin from Amsterdam. Here’s the Instagram post of hers I talked about:
I want to make clear that I am not related by blood to Sadie. Or any dog, anywhere. We’re related only by marriage. There, I’m glad I cleared that up! Now a word from my sponsor, Ed’s WIP, Never Saw a Purple Cow.
You’ve read about viruses that turn people into zombies. But how about one that turns people into mad geniuses? Janet Davis, a beautiful 44-year old suburbanite, abandons her husband, her luxurious LA home, even her life to risk madness and death on a quarantined island in the northern wilderness.
She bribed her way onto a small supply boat when she spots another of the story’s main characters, a First Nations lad named Billy Seaweed. We also see what Janet is risking — his mind is affected by the virus she wants to catch.
A splash of unexpected color riveted her eye. At the top of the cliff stood a figure wearing a hooded orange jacket like hunters wore to keep from getting shot by accident. Man, woman, child, she couldn’t tell at this distance, but probably a man, because the overwhelming majority of the patients-slash-inmates on Gilford Island were male. The HNH virus was harder on women, and few women were stupid enough to seek the disease.
No, not stupid. Most women weren’t brave enough.
“Beatle t’battle t’bottle t’boodle,” fourteen-year-old Billy Seaweed chanted into the wind. The hood of his bright orange jacket made his voice sound odd, as though it belonged to someone else – and he liked that, because he wasn’t himself. “I’m a totem pole; my legs are cedar, solid and immovable.”
From his vantage point, alone atop the cliff, Billy saw the supply boat pass the sophisticated electronic buoys guarding the quarantine line. He ignored the boat, just as he ignored the drizzle, the complaints of the seagulls, the chill in his fingertips and, most especially, the wild energy that mushroomed inside him like a marshmallow zapped in a microwave.
Effing Feline here again. I goofed again! My disclaimer about Sadie didn’t come out right. I’m not married to Sadie! I would never marry a dog.
Sadie is the pet of Ed’s third son, Brett. That’s the only connection, I swear. We’ve never even sniffed. Honest!
Never Saw a Purple Cow
You’ve read about viruses that turn people into zombies. But how about a virus that turns people into madmen, some of whom become creative geniuses?
Spurred by her husband’s infidelity, a suburban housewife smuggles herself into a wilderness quarantine. She’s hoping to redeem her empty life by writing a great book. But the reality of lifetime exile on an island of madmen — including pirates, a suicidal Indian boy, a licentious cult leader — is crueler than any daydream. To survive, she’ll need to adapt.
But how? Nothing in her sheltered life has prepared her for this.