Letters From the Labyrinth 304

The Taming of the Outlaw Josie Wales

On Tuesday, I transferred the remaining kittens to the shelter, where they will now go on to their new forever homes. All of them were good little babies for the trip there. They did not cry, but I did. Then I came home and cleaned the second floor, which consists of my office, Mary’s office, our library, game room, and second bathroom.

After that, I began the task of taming their mother, Josie Wales.

If you’ve been reading this newsletter for a long time, then you know I named her that because of her disposition, and because of how she just appeared out of the wilds one day — a feral cat, barely a year old and already pregnant. At first, she would only eat if I went inside. After a few weeks, she’d allow me to stand on the porch while she ate. We slowly progressed from there over the last year and a half. She had three litters of babies, resulting in a total of 22 kittens. Mary and I kept three of them — Dallas, Stripe, and Bubbles. I found homes for all of the rest. The first two litters I handled adopting out myself. All of them went to people I knew and trusted — my ex-wife, authors Matt Wildasin and Wesley Southard, neighbors, and various non-writer friends (I do have a social life outside of our business). This last litter I enlisted the help of the shelter, as I had depleted all of the potential adopters in my rolodex.

Josie has been a feral, outdoor cat all of her life. People said I would not be able to tame her, let alone get her to adapt to living indoors. But people are often proven wrong when they say I can’t do things.

Josie is adapting quite well to being an indoor kitty. We have her confined to the second floor until we can get her to the vet next week. I’m fairly confident she has no diseases (because none of her kittens ever did) but she most likely has worms, and I don’t want our other cats sharing a litterbox with her until that’s taken care of.

She greets me enthusiastically each morning, allows me to pet her and give her skritches, and rubs against my legs, marking me. I can get her to purr loudly. She uses the litterbox just fine, and is neat and tidy with her food. She likes cat toys — something she has never encountered in her life until now. The little red fish and the mouse on a string (pictured above) are her favorites. Yesterday I found her asleep next to my desk — so deeply that her little mouth was open and she didn’t even wake up when I walked in. That’s probably the first sound sleep she has ever had in her life, given that outside, she always had one ear ready for predators.

The only thing I haven’t accomplished is getting her to sit in my lap or let me pick her up, but we’ll get there.

Once a day, she looks for the babies, and calls them — a dry, rattling little hiss of a sound. It breaks my heart when she does this, so yesterday, one by one, I brought Dallas, Stripe and Bubbles upstairs to see her (supervised, so they wouldn’t get in her litterbox and catch worms). She gave each of them nose kisses, and sniffed their butts, and they did the same to her in return. She recognized them, and they her. There was no hissing or fighting. After that, she hasn't looked for the litter anymore. She is, however, meowing at the downstairs door on occasion, trying to join them. And they her.

So yeah, she’s here to stay. Sooner or later, even the most feral outlaws need a place to stay warm against the cold — myself included.

Good morning. I’m Brian Keene and this is Letters From the Labyrinth, a weekly newsletter for friends, family and fans of my work. And also for people who are fond of stories about grizzled, tired outlaws who, in the autumn of their lives, become cat dads.

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For the first time ever, THE RISING: DELIVERANCE is available in audiobook, narrated by Joe Hempel. You can listen via Audible or Apple.

Go back to the beginning of the end of the world....

Hell has come to earth as sadistic zombies rampage and massacre the human population. Reverend Thomas Martin has lost his congregation to the chaos but has found two wayward survivors to protect—Becky and John. The three of them have holed up in Martin's church in a desperate attempt for survival. But as supplies run low and civilization crumbles around them, Martin must come to a realization—God has abandoned them. But why? Is there any chance of hope in this new world? Is there any chance for deliverance? Modern horror legend, Brian Keene returns to his fan-favorite universe of The Rising with a tale of faith, loss, and zombies.

Get listening!

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USA Today bestselling author Robert Swartwood and I had a discussion last Thursday about Manhattan on Mars, self-publishing, and all of the changes in our industry, past and future. Watch it for free here. Lots of good info, if you;re a writer thinking about dipping into self-publishing.

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I have a brand new short story — “The Floor Is Lava” — which appears in the new anthology CLOSE TO MIDNIGHT — on sale now in hardcover, paperback and for Kindle. Edited by Mark Morris, it also features stories from Ramsey Campbell, Jonathan Janz, Steve Rasnic Tem, Conrad Williams, Rio Youers, and many, many more. Click here to purchase.

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Reader Recession Relief is now in Week 11. I’m delighted that so many of you have benefitted from this so far. This week, UNHAPPY ENDINGS is just 99 cents on Kindle and Nook. Enjoy! And remember, it will return to its regular price on Tuesday and a new book will take its place.

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Author and podcaster Jay Wilburn passed away earlier this week. Here is the remembrance I wrote for him, originally posted on my Patreon.

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"Been too much of this lately." 

That's what young author Wile E. Young just texted me, in regards to the passing of our friend and fellow author Jay Wilburn, and yeah. Yeah, kiddo, there's been entirely too much of this lately. Too much over the last nine years, in fact.

Jay's passing was not entirely unexpected. He suffered a massive stroke late last week, and wasn't expected to recover. Armand Rosamila was with Jay's family at his side, and had been keeping me updated. I knew they were removing Jay's tubes this afternoon. He went quick, which is a blessing.

Jay's passing was also not entirely unexpected to Jay, either. He and I talked in detail last year about his worsening health, and his plans for his literary estate. Like myself, Jay was an old school "working" writer -- one of the blue-collar pulp writers that makes up publishing's middle-class. His concerns were what happened to his literary estate after he was gone, and making sure his wife, Jenny, and the rest of his family benefitted from it. I gave him my advice and perspective in how Jesus Gonzalez and I had set ours up. And we talked about it again earlier this year, along with a long talk about what we each think happens to us -- not our books, but us -- after we die. 

So yes, Jay was expecting this to happen sooner or later. It does my heart good that he put Armand in charge of his writing and his books. Those two guys were as close as Jesus and I, and I know that Armand will oversee things with as much attention, patience, and determination as I have for Jesus.

I met Jay maybe fifteen years ago? I can't be sure of the year because time grows fuzzy when you've been doing this as long as I have, and even fuzzier once you've passed age fifty-five. In all the years I knew him, I never once heard Jay say a bad word about anyone in this business. He was a unicorn in that regard. And believe me, there were plenty of people he had right and reason to speak ill of, but he never did. I was a fan of his writing, and have a shelf full of his books, but I was a bigger fan of Jay Wilburn, the human being. Thoughtful and empathetic, caring, an armchair philosopher and a very deep thinker. He was the type of Christian I wish we had more of -- one who did not judge others, who broke bread with everyone, and who was a friend to everyone, provided they came in peace and good will. Our business could certainly use more like him.

As I said, Jay and I believed different things about what happens after we die, but when we last discussed this subject back in April, he allowed that my vision of the afterlife, as recounted at the end of END OF THE ROAD, could easily be assimilated into his. If that's so, then I like to think that he and Dave Thomas are sitting in that hotel convention bar right now, and ordering up some drinks. Dave adored Jay, and Jay him. And they wont be alone. Many more of our friends are there now.

Yes, Wile. There's been too much of this lately. I'm tired of writing these remembrances for friends. And I know the time is coming when you or Wesley or Somer or Kozeniewski or Lombardo will have to write one for me. Hopefully, it will be a while before that happens. But when it does, just know that I believe I will be walking into the place where everybody else is waiting right now, and there will be lots of smiles. I will take a seat between Dave and Jesus, and Dave Barnett and Gak, and Dallas and Dick and Pic, and everybody else that have passed on already. And I know that Jay will be there, too, grinning, and saying, "See? I told you they were compatible afterlives. I ordered you a bourbon."

Rest in peace, brother.    

Matt and Pam Blazi, myself, Jay, from earlier this year.

The next time our community will all be gathered together is for Scares That Care’s AuthorCon II early next year, so I’ll make sure we have something in the programming so that we can all honor Jay’s memory together.

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Currently Reading: It Came From The Sea by Matt Wildasin and Hairspray and Switchblades by V. Castro

Currently Listening: Brian Keene Radio

Currently Watching: Ghosted (Hulu)

I’m very happy to tell you that there’s now another way to listen to Brian Keene radio. The nice folks at Radio Garden have added it to their network. If you’re unfamiliar with the site, it allows you to tune in to radio stations from all around the world. Click here to listen. Note: That link tunes you directly to my radio station. From there you can experiment with finding other stations.

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Work This Past Week: First draft of SPLINTERED: THE LABYRINTH Book 3, final draft of GWENDY’S BUTTON BOX, signed books for Lifetime Subscribers, recorded something for Military dot com, proofed the almost-final draft of ISLAND OF THE DEAD so it can go off to pre-readers, wrote an Afterword to Mike Lombardo’s new book, and tooled a little with the first drafts of THE FALL and BENEATH THE LOST LEVEL, and two short stories.

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And that does it for this week. I’m typing this on Saturday morning. My 14-year old has a marching band competition today, and Robert Swartwood and I are going to a book signing for Richard Chizmar and Billy Chizmar (we already have the book — we’re just going to support them), and Mary has a baby shower to attend.

Tomorrow, when you’re reading this, Mary and I will be taking our annual trip to Centralia, Pennsylvania (our tenth or eleventh such excursion, according to my math). Later tonight, we’re meeting up with Wesley Southard, Stephen Kozeniewski, Mike Lombardo, and John Urbancik to have dinner with the passing-through-our-state Jeff Strand, Lynne Hansen, and Bridgett Nelson.

I hope that you are also doing fun things, or relaxing things. And I hope that this was a nice way to start your Sunday morning. Hang in there, and I will see you back here next week.

— Brian Keene