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CATCALL
Orion Children's Books
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| When did it all start, the cat thing, the lion thing, the time when everything involved Cat or Leo? With Jamie, it seemed to be the day we went to the Wildlife Park. I'd had it ages before, but that was different. I chose it. I wanted it. With Jamie, it chose him. And that had to be my fault, because I'm the one who brought it into the house with my Book and my posters and the things I collect, so maybe it started before we saw the lions. Maybe it took us a long time to notice. EXTRACT ...The lion broke away from his circuit and stood with his head high, taking in smells and sounds from across the park. Dad passed me his binoculars, and as I focused, the lion turned his heavy head and looked straight at me with his amber eyes. A shock fizzled through me. I couldn't look away from those stern, solemn lion eyes - I was held there, staring and staring back at him. For that second, there was nothing between me and him - no binoculars, no glass panel, no fence. I felt sure he knew me, knew what I was thinking. Then he turned away. "Here, Dad." I handed back the binoculars, and he offered them to Kim. Jamie had slunk round behind Dad. Kim laughed. "It's all right, Jame. He can't get you." We stood looking a bit longer. Kim took a couple of photographs with the camera Dad had given her for Christmas. My fingers were going numb, and Jamie was stamping his feet to keep warm. "I don't like seeing lions in cages," Dad said. "Hey!" Kim jabbed his arm. "It was your idea to come!" "Yeah, I know," said Dad. "But lions - it doesn't seem right." "Oh, they look quite happy to me." Kim was looking at the leaflet with the map of the park. "It's what they're used to." I wasn't sure. I'd wanted to come here, to see the lions and leopards in particular, but now I saw what Dad meant. It didn't seem right for them to be penned up for people to stare at. Suddenly I felt ashamed of staring through binoculars. There was something about that lion that couldn't be penned up in a cage. Something fierce and free.  |
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WHERE DID IT START? Authors are regularly asked "Where do you get your ideas from?" and in this case I know at least part of the answer. Three different starting points came together. When I was a child, I seriously believed that cats would speak to me if they could. Spirit of Cat seemed to shine from the eyes of every cat I met - a wise and ancient spirit. Many years later, CATCALL suggested itself to me as a title. I like one-word titles, and titles that can have more than one meaning. And it's good too to have a title that is absolutely right. With cats of all kinds in mind, I visited the Cotswold Wildlife Park and saw the lions and cubs described in the extract above. The male lion was pacing the boundary of his enclosure. I gazed at the lion, and the lion gazed at me ... and the rest of the story grew from there. As with all my books, it began with what I thought were good ingredients, and a lot of questions. I didn't know all the answers when I began; they became clear as the story grew. This is my way of writing a story, but other authors may do it very differently. Some authors like to plan the whole story before they start; I don't. Over the years, I've learned what works for me, and I know that my best ideas will come half-way or two-thirds of the way through a story, rather than at the beginning. CATCALL is beautifully illustrated by Ian Benfold Haywood. In the story, Josh keeps a scrapbook, his BOOK OF CATS, and Ian's black-and-white illustrations show some of the items Josh collects - poems, information from websites, myths and legends about cats, superstitions and facts. I certainly think Ian's work adds to the appeal of the book, and hope readers will agree. Here are some samples:
JOSH, FAMILY AND FRIENDS Although portraits of the characters don't appear in the book, Ian drew them all to help him get into the story. He's kindly agreed to let me reproduce some of the pictures here:
Ian is a wonderful illustrator with a range of styles and subject, and he's just as good with colour as he is with line drawings. Visit his website for more: http://www.benfoldhaywood.co.uk/index.html JOIN IN! An invitation to young readers: Would you like to contribute to this CATCALL page? Could you send me something for the BOOK OF CATS, or some writing or a picture based on the story? Like Josh, you can use material downloaded from the internet to combine with your own words and ideas. You could find out something interesting about cats, or write about a famous cat or lion, or about your own pet. You may know a cat story, or maybe you've found out about cats in myths and legends. Possibly you don't like cats, and could say why! Or, if you've read CATCALL, you could write a new piece of the story, or a poem based on an episode from the book. Remember that CATS include the big cats - lions, tigers etc - and wild cats, as well as pets. Please email your piece to linda @ lindanewbery.co.uk I will reply to everyone who contributes, and (with permission) I'll post some of the pieces on this page at the next update.
READERS' CONTRIBUTIONS:
Most of the pieces here come from Year 7 students at a school I visited recently, St. Mary’s in Gerrards Cross, though one of the contributors is from Faringdon Junior School. Lucy Moat has written this description of her own cat: My cat is called Magic. Magic by name, Magic by nature! She has the softest, blackest fur I have ever seen. She has white paws and a white nose as though she has just walked through a field of snow. Her favourite place is sitting by the fire, purring gently. I love to stroke her and feel her whiskers tickling me! My parents brought her as a treat for me, but they were really hoping that she would be good at catching mice as we live on a farm. Well she is! She catches the mice outside, then brings them into the kitchen and lets them go! We now have more mice than ever as they then all hide behind the kitchen cabinets! Kelsey Rose wrote about her friend’s encounter with a rather sinister cat: It just stared at her, not moving a muscle. The cat had bright green eyes and its fur was almost completely shaven off. Then it pounced to the floor off of the window sill which it was sitting steadily on. My friend has always been scared of cats and really does not like them. The Cat drew nearer and nearer and then she screamed, 'Get away from me, you filthy cat! Can’t you see you’re getting a bit creepy!'. The cat then started to circle her, not letting his eyes off of her. She screamed and ran into the toilet. Then waited, just waited for the owner to came and save her from her fear!. Lucy Pearce sent this history of her family’s cats. I especially like the name Wombat! I am 12 years old, and I’ve had at least one cat throughout my life. My first cat was called Tigger. He was a male tabby cat, who loved to be wild and free but also loved a cuddle. When Tigger died we got another two; Willow and Wombat. They were half brothers. Willow was a blue-blooded silver tabby. He was very shy and always had a kink in his tail. Wombat was tabby and white, very shy also, and very handsome. Willow ran away a couple of years ago which was a dreadful time for my family, especially my sister as she owned him. Wombat was never the same without Willow. He is still very handsome but a lot less timid. Soon after my parents found a litter of kittens which my whole family visited. Olivia Dolan, from St Mary’s, sent this memory of her cat, Candy: Candy was the family cat. She was a white Persian with bright yellow eyes and masses of fur. She acted like a princess and never wanted to go out in the garden; it was almost as if she knew that if she did, she would get her lovely white coat dirty! She was very fussy about her food and liked to eat fresh meat and fish. She would hide behind the furniture if noisy children came to 'her' house and
would not come out until they had gone! She liked to lie on the sofas and beds
and did not find the floor very comfortable. She liked to be stroked and made
a Victoria Taylor, aged 11, is from Faringdon Junior School. She sent me this story beginning. I hope it’s going to turn out happily! The alleyway was dark, the moon was shining and the atmosphere was a mystery of scares and wonders. A shadow of a cat was prancing across the fence and he looked ever so thin in the shadow. I turned on my flashlight and shone it at the cat. He was a tabby cat and had matted fur, plus his bones were showing through his skin. He had no collar and he had amber, golden eyes. His whiskers twitched and I slowly got closer and closer, until I stroked him. He purred, softly. He jumped down, onto bins and boxes, they acted as if they were stairs. They clattered and crashed, I expected the stray to run away, but he purred and hung around me. I decided to wrap him up in my coat and take him back home, where he could eat and sleep in a better environment. I'm sure Mum had some cat food because we still have a cat now, but he's getting older, so I thought Mum would let us have another cat! When I took the stray into the light, it was worse than in the dark. His head was round and he had scabs and scars all over it and his hair was matted from nose to ears! His mouth was very small and his nose was like a button. His eyes were brownish amber and he had ears that were quite big, but one had a bit of ear cut off, probably from a fight with another cat. His neck was the average size, but scabs and cuts were dotted around the neck. His legs were nice and long. But his paws had sharp glass and cuts everywhere! His body was ultra thin, and I felt where his bones were... you could feel them, right at the edge of the skin, and he was thinner than most stray cats. I wondered if he would live. But his tail was amazing, he had a brilliant attitude and his tail was up in the air! But I wondered if he could live. We'd have to take him to the vets next day. Thanks to everyone who has sent me writing and pictures!
Linda Newbery, October 2006, updated May 2007 to include readers' contributions |
