Every teenager thinks they’re special, but for NYC sophomore Catherine “Cat” Prentis, it’s all too true.
Burdened by magical powers she can barely control, Cat must hide away her true nature as she muddles her way through the hothouse prison of high school, equally desperate to avoid both social stigmatization and the all-too frequent demon attack.
But when Cat accidentally earns the enmity of an ancient and terrible god during a school field trip, her worlds collide and Cat is forced to confront not merely the face of evil, but the truth about herself.
Welcome to the Amazing Adventures of Cat Prentis!
Happy Friday, Dear Reader! Did you miss Shakespeare? I hope so, since here he is and (plot point) it looks like ole’ Shax expressly wrote The Tempest for our friend—whatever for? Well, tune in next week to find out.
Anyone seeing The Master this weekend? Alas and alack, I am not and rather, will be “allen-wrenching” my way through a slew of just-delivered Ikea furniture. Le sigh.
‘Til Monday!
~cpd
Happy Wednesday, Dear Reader—I’ve hope you’ve missed your humble corespondent because he has most certainly missed you.
Been a bit jammed up these days, so finding time to write (hopefully) erudite and (hopefully) delightful commentary for you has be something of a labor of Herculean proportions—so, please accept my mea culpa.
All that said, let’s all promise to do better, yes? That’s all we can do, really.
So! First off, as Tony pointed out to me concerning this page, we’ve gone one hundred and two pages before we had an establishing shot (re: today’s first panel) of Cat’s school, St. Sithney’s. Oversight? Maaaaaybe.
Second, notice, if you will, the name of our cafe. Who know that this fellow had branched out into the coffee-arts?
And lastly, for those of you who’ve been hoping, this week will feature the re-appearance of a certain dead playwright (which, from the last panel in today’s page, you may have figured out already).
‘Til Friday!
~cpd
…that’s the end of Chapter Five “…Enemies Closer”! We hope you enjoyed it nearly as much as Tony and I had in making it.
(did you see that turn of the worm coming? I bet you did, you’re clever, to say nothing about your good looks)
Tune in on Friday for the start for Chapter Six, “A Tale-Telling Heart,” which we should note is the second-to-last chapter of our particular little story. Nearly done!
~cpd
Dear Reader, don’t you enjoy what Tony did in that fifth panel? I know I did.
So—on Monday, I told a story about how I sorta…screwed everything up vis-a-vis the Greenpoint Coffee House. Well, since I know you love all this inside baseball SO MUCH, here’s another tiger tidbit involving the word “Chtoniate.”
So, obviously, I took the word “chtonic” (from the Greek for earth, I believe) —which had long ago been co-opted to mean infernal, demonic, etc and et al.—and slapped on the second-person plural suffix -iate. Who doesn’t love futzing around with suffixes?
Point is (and darlings, I’m NOT the best proof-reader), Tony calls me and says—”How is this word “Cthoniate” supposed to be spelled?” ”How it’s written,” I retort (well, not really, and I’m pretty sure this whole exchange was via text, but it’s more dramatic this way, Dear Reader), to which Tony replies “But you write it differently EVERY TIME.”
Le sigh.
Well, I don’t really have an button for the end of this particular story, so…let’s close out by saying I then found twenty dollars. Aren’t I the luckiest little scamp you know?
Be seeing you.
~cpd
Funny story—well, it’s not that funny. Really, it’s not funny at all. Just bear with me, Dear Reader, it’s VERY humid in my part of the world.
So—when I was drafting this page, I was picturing one of Greenpoint (Brooklyn)’s best coffee shops, the Greenpoint Coffee House, which sadly, is now shuttered and forgotten. I like to think that the Coffee House and I (sort of) grew-up together. When it first opened (I’m going to say 2001), I spent an enormous amount of time there, nursing a single cup of coffee for hours (and hours) while I wrote one terrible play after another. So, I have found memories and I thought to myself, “pattern the cafe scene after the Coffee House!” You see, they had these enormous circular booths, like something out of the 50s—they were fantastic and the perfect mental picture of the above scene.
…if, that is, I had bothered to write any of that out for Tony to read and process. See, rather then write out the description, I thumb-nailed it, fully intending to secure some reference photos and then send them to Tony ASAP…which, you know, I didn’t. At all. Completely forgot. Flash-forward a bit and Tony says to me, “so, that coffee house scene? Since you didn’t give me anything to go on, I based on a great little place I went to in Montreal.”
The best laid plans, Dear Reader.
Anyway, remember that gargoyle made out of letters? You can find it again , starting at Page Five of Chapter Three, “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner?”
Hoping you did something outrageous this weekend,
~cpd
