Posted on by Catherine

The Gift She Never Thought She’d Get: A Scarred and Scattered Short Story

My intro and official return to this site is on the previous short story post. (The two are unrelated, so you don’t have to read one to understand the other, but it would make me very happy if you read both!) Without further ado, here is Comet’s story!

Comet

December 25th

7:30 am

Charlotte is home in Basil Hills for the Christmas season, and I wish I could have told Scar and Brescia. 

But Charlotte has no real reason or way to contact Jack and his family, and so I’m here in Basil Hills, where the light dusting of snow on the trees looks too magical to be real, and it’s early morning on Christmas day. 

The house is quiet. Everyone must be asleep. It’s been busy with Charlotte’s extended family staying the night too, as well as a new friend she’s met in her university classes who didn’t have any family to come home to, so Charlotte, in her ever generous nature, drove her new friend Clara home with her. 

Clara’s sleeping in Charlotte’s room on the floor in a sleeping bag, so I’m reduced to sleeping in the living room. But there’s Christmas classical music playing in the background from a radio somewhere, and the light on the trees is just light enough to be comforting while not having the disruptive power to keep me awake in its brilliance. 

Underneath the tree are brightly wrapped presents in silver, gold, green, and red. There are bags with tissue paper billowing out the top like smoke from a fire. And on the topic of fire, the fireplace is low and has been going all night, making no noise and just being there to provide ambience. Our windows are closed and frosty, with snowflake-like patterns forming a beautiful crust over them. 

A light goes on in the kitchen and I see Charlotte’s mom is awake and making coffee. I get up, stretch, and walk over to her. She grins when she sees me and gives me a loving pat on the top of my head. 

“Atta good girl, Comet. How’d you sleep? You sleep all right in this big, busy house full of big, busy people?” Charlotte’s mom kneels down and pets me, and I can’t help how my tail wags. I’ve gotten to love that little reaction of mine – when my big tail hits my legs and tickles my back, it brings me a small sense of joy that’s quite unique to family life at Charlotte’s. 

I want to start barking with joy, but I remember that most of the house is asleep, and I settle for panting and lying belly-down on the tile floor. Charlotte’s mom puts food in my bowl and as I eat, the sound of the coffee maker brings a certain home-y energy that I can’t quite put into words. 

Soon, there are more sounds of footsteps and the light creaking of a door. It’s Charlotte’s friend, Clara. She’s in an oversize tee-shirt with small candy cane patterns all over it, and some of the fuzziest red pants I’ve seen in a long time. Her dark, straight hair falls down her back and it’s somewhat tangled, and as she rubs her nose, I notice a little hole in it: she’s taken her nose ring out for the night. 

“Good morning, dear,” says Charlotte’s mom. “Do you drink coffee?”

“Thank you… yes, I do,” says Clara, her voice deeper than I remember. “Sorry, morning voice,” she adds with a clearing of her throat. Charlotte’s mom chuckles.

“Coffee will be ready very soon dear. Do you take milk, sugar, or cream?” 

“Milk would be great, thanks. You’ve been very kind.”

“Oh, it’s no worry at all! Any friend of Charlotte’s is welcome here, and you’ve been an absolute angel since you came!”

Clara flushes slightly, and smiles gratefully. 

“You know, you’re not the only one who Charlotte’s taken in, so to speak,” says Charlotte’s mom, pointing down at me. “Frankly, it’s none of my business what your business is with your folks, but Comet here used to be a stray. Charlotte spent many days getting to know her and getting her accustomed to life surrounded by love and kindness.” 

I was surrounded by love and kindness. But of course, Charlotte’s mom wouldn’t know that. 

Clara sits down cross-legged in front of me and looks at me with solemn, sad eyes. They remind me a little bit of Brescia’s eyes – they’re a darker brown than Brescia’s are, but they have the same depth to them. The same warmth. Clara hesitantly reaches her hand out and I walk up to her, placing my head underneath her outstretched palm. 

“My dad died before I was old enough to remember him. My mom did her best, I suppose, but we still never really had the best of relationships. Technically, I could have gone home with my mom and stepdad, but I felt like it would just dissolve into something uncomfortable,” said Clara in a voice just a little louder than a whisper. “I told myself I’d go if they invited me, because at least it would show they cared.”

I approach Clara and lay my head on her legs. I can feel her breathing more deeply now, and I can feel her visibly relax to the point where she almost slumps forward a little bit. 

“Thank you, again, Ms. Riemann. This has been the first Christmas in a while that’s actually gone well for me.” 

“You’re absolutely welcome, dear. Charlotte speaks highly of you, you know.” 

Clara grins. 

“Yo, Clara!” calls Charlotte from across the hall. “I’m up, where’d you go?”

Clara sighs, gets up, and goes to Charlotte’s room. I follow her, only to pass the many rooms of Charlotte’s siblings. Jeremy has a sports-themed room with trophies and posters on the walls. Quinn seems to be very much into space, with star stickers on her ceiling that seem to glow. Her twin Kyle has a pretty plain room except for two bookshelves against the back wall, neatly organized, but I can’t tell in which order.

“Morning, Comet – no, no, out of the room for now. It’s…” Charlotte looks back over her shoulder. “…there isn’t enough floor space with Clara’s mattress. No – Clara, I swear, don’t even worry about it. Jer and the twins should be already up by now, it’s later in the morning than I thought. No – Clara, if you apologize about being here one more time, I’m…” 

I turn from the friends and shake my head affectionately. This is to be expected from Charlotte. She is affectionate and stubborn, a lot like me and other members of my family. Maybe that’s why we get along so well. 

I get into Jeremy’s room first – the sports one – and he is fast asleep, his arm and almost half his body hanging over the side of his bed. I climb up onto the bed and lay down next to him, and I can feel the bed dip under me. Jeremy doesn’t move, so I make one low and loud woof. He snorts and stretches. 

“Oh god, Charlotte sent you. Okay, I’m up,” he says. “CHARLOTTE! COME GET COMET, I’M AWAKE!”

“GET HER OUT YOURSELF, I’M WITH CLARA!”

“FINE…”

Jeremy rolls off the bed and onto the floor, bringing the blanket with him. I follow him off the bed, sniff him once or twice, then saunter out of the room successfully. The screaming seems to have woken up the twins, who are standing in the doorway with tired eyes and a yawn or two. 

Clara and Charlotte get out of the room as well, and Clara sticks her phone in a pocket that I didn’t think existed on the fluffy red pants. 

“Merry Christmas, everybody,” says Clara with a grin. “I brought stuff for you, I didn’t know when the best time to give it out was…” she adds sheepishly. 

“In our house, we all sit around the tree and open gifts one at a time: I hope that’s okay!” says Quinn. 

“Oh – of course! Whatever works for your family, of course.”

“Santa could have visited a second time and left in the time it takes you guys to get ready for breakfast,” says Charlotte’s dad with a laugh as he comes down the hall. “Clara, how’d you sleep? These kids give you any trouble?” He ruffles Quinn’s hair, and she protests, waving him away from her head.

“The night was very peaceful, thank you,” says Clara gently. “It’s been a very pleasant stay.”

“Glad to hear it! Come on down, there’s coffee, hot chocolate, and pancakes.” 

🐾

Once everyone sits down around the Christmas tree, filled with pancakes but sipping on whatever hot drink Charlotte’s mom made, they start opening gifts. I watch as everyone opens a gift in turn, then hugs whoever it was that the gift was from. Clara brought the family a couple boxes of chocolates that are apparently some kind of luxury chocolates, by the way that everyone reacted to them. Clara blushed and said she ‘couldn’t come empty-handed’ and that Charlotte had once said they were her family’s favourite, so it was ‘only natural’.

Even I got a gift: a new chew toy and a big bone. 

As the family went to their various morning activities, I followed Charlotte and Clara, holding my chew toy since, according to the adults, the ‘bone stays in the kitchen’. 

Now that I had more time to think, I was brought back to the Christmases I had at the Den. We were stuck in an endless loop of having just enough, then having nothing, and needing to provide basic necessities. It just wasn’t possible to give gifts as extravagant and meaningful to those we loved. We would try, of course: Scar would take over some Alpha duties while Brescia was left to relax and enjoy a day off. Sometimes he would bring Brescia to special places and they’d enjoy a day to themselves, and I’d take over Alpha duties with Trey and M by my side.

We’d always joke, the three of us, about the kinds of gifts we’d give each other. It was more-or-less the same stuff every year, but it got funnier as time went on because they’d always get more elaborate. 

🐾

“Merry Christmas, guys – the most wondrous time of the year. Live, laugh, it’s really damn cold and our Christmas gift from the world this year is that another plank broke off the Den in the wind,” she pointed out with a snort. 

“I’ll push you into a snowbank,” I said. “It’ll be a surprise gift: forget Santa at night, it’s just Comet coming in the middle of the day to push you in a snowbank. Because what are friends for?”

“I think it’s just me being here that is a gift to you guys,” said Trey with her signature snark. “I’d appreciate a little revelling in my presence as a form of gratitude. I also accept a week of night duty instead of me having to do it.”

At that point, I’d push Trey into the snowbank, revelling instead in the peals of laughter from M. 

🐾

We joked about it, yes. But now, with Trey gone, her being here would be the gift of a lifetime. 

The day is slow, and I decide to nap under the (now empty) Christmas tree. But as I start getting closer to waking up, closer to opening my eyes and facing the day, a dream slips into my consciousness. Or is it unconsciousness at this point? Either way, a small conversation plays itself out in my head as my brain enters the final stage of sleep. 

🐾

I’m in the Den again, and it’s winter. It’s cold, or at least, I should feel cold, but it’s a dream. I’m comfortable, and I can enjoy the beauty that the light covering of snow gives my home. 

“Merry Christmas, Comet,” comes a voice from beside me, and I turn to see a black Labrador. One that I thought I would never see in my life. 

“Trey,” I breathe, and barrel into her with excitement. As we roll over, and I find myself on top of her, I jump off and start berating her. “Where do you get the absolute audacity to die six months ago and then wander into my dreams on Christmas like nothing ever happened?” 

Trey laughs, getting to her feet. 

“You said it yourself, it’s a dream. None of this is really my doing. I think, if anything, you brought me here. I’m probably saying exactly what you want me to say, or at least exactly what you want the conjured-up, dream-scape version of me to say.”

I lay back down on the Den floor with a sigh.

“I miss you, Trey. I’ve been missing you for months. I don’t think that will ever stop.”

“I miss you too. But… I also don’t regret what I did.”

“And I wouldn’t want you to. You saved lives. I would have saved yours if I could.”

“Comet, don’t go back to that. Don’t… don’t do this to yourself. What’s done is done. It was six months ago. I’m gone, yes. You can’t change anything anymore. There’s no point in ruminating over what could have been.”

“Right… right.” I sigh, and turn to look at her. She has a slight glow about her in my dreams. “Every dream I’ve had of you since has been a bad one. I wake up crying, or sweating, or heart racing. How is this happening?”

“It’s a dream. I don’t know.”

I stay silent for a bit. I don’t want to wake up, but another part of me knows the conversation is getting closer to ending. I’m bound to wake up soon, whatever happens next.

“Before you wake up, tell me about your life now and in the past six months. How are Scar and Brescia? How is M? The pups? Darrell?” asks Trey, sliding closer to me in the supposed cold.

“We’re alright, actually. You’d be glad to hear that…” I continue talking about the experiences we’ve had over the past six months, and it’s comforting to be talking to my best friend again, even in my dreams. Maybe she really has subconsciously given herself to me for Christmas, in some weird way. Whatever the case, I’m not going to complain, even when I wake up. Even a lucid dream moment with her is a joy and a moment to be cherished.

There is a rustle next to me. A rather large amount of rustles. 

“You’re about to wake up, now, I think,” says Trey lightly.

“Probably, but… oh, when will I see you again?”

“In which way?”

I think about it for a second. I’m now conscious about the fact that I’m manually keeping my eyes closed, and once I open them again, I’ll be awake, and Trey will be gone again. But something tells me I’m not going to have nightmares of her death again. And if I will, they will be fewer and far between. Trey grins at me with a wink. 

“Merry Christmas, Comet. Come here, really quick, before you wake up for good.” 

“Merry Christmas to you too, Trey. Where are you taking me?”

“Just come on!”

I follow Trey, trying desperately not to wake up.

“I love you, you know,” she says.

“I love you too.”

Trey looks at me for a solid ten seconds, then shoves me as hard as she can. I didn’t expect her to be actually corporeal and have any real effect on my body, but then I hit a snowbank with force, and that’s what forces me out of sleep.

🐾

What in the world was that for, Trey? I ask the lingering image of her in my head as I stand up and blink, seeing the family getting into snowsuits and carrying sleds throughout the house that must have come from the downstairs storage closet. 

The image in my head winks and says “Merry Christmas, Comet” before disappearing, and now I know I am fully awake.

Dream Trey told me essentially to move on, and to live my life without hoping that something about that one fateful day six months ago could be changed. I used to never take her advice. But for once, I think I will. I will never forget her, that much is certain. But she’s in a better place now, no matter how cheesy and sentimental that sounds. I’ll always love her and I have reason to believe she’ll always love me. 

🐾

Soon, I am speeding down a hill in a public park on a plastic sled, my tongue hanging wildly out of my mouth and my ears flopping backwards. I come to a gentle stop at the bottom of the hill, and Charlotte’s loving arms around me and her affectionate kisses on the top of my head make life all the more worth living. 

I’m ready for whatever comes next in the new year, and as long as Charlotte is by my side, we can do anything. I can do anything. 

I think the best Christmas gift of all, in the end, is knowing that there’ll be someone who loves you and will be by your side in the new year and in as many of the coming years as they can.

And I think I found all of that, right here in Basil Hills, and in the gloom and urban cityscape of Fog Lake City. 

I wouldn’t exchange it for the world.

OUTRO

I hope you enjoyed this little story and I hope you’d consider checking out my novels and I hope if you haven’t read the first story I’ve posted, that you’d go and do that! And if you’ve read both, let me know what you think!

Posted on by Catherine

Pup’s First Christmas: A Scarred Short Story

It has been a while since I posted anything on this site, but during the holidays I got inspired to write a few short stories of my characters having a good time during the holiday season following the events of Scattered. This is the first of two, with the second also posted on this site. I hope you enjoy these two short stories written pretty much on a whim as a way for me to get back into writing! As well, I hope everyone is having a great 2025 so far and I hope the rest of the year treats you well too!

THE STORY

Scar

December 24th

2:00pm

The snow is falling outside. It lands and melts on the sidewalk and on the road, and even when it stays, however briefly, on the windowsill. Every little slow-falling snowflake seems to dance in front of my eyes before it’s inevitably snuffed out by the heat.

It’s a gentle snow. It’s a snow that covers the city like a soft baby’s blanket: a type of blanket I see often and have gotten used to over the weeks leading into the season.

I’m not used to the cold anymore. I’m not used to the way the wind ruffles my fur, and the way that the ice under my feet forces me to bring my claws out to remain steady, lest I slip. A part of me feels that all that had made me me while I was out in the streets is slipping away, melting away from warmth, as the snowflakes do. 

But I have my wife. And I have my family. At least a little bit of them. I have Jack and Brescia and Kate and Rowan. I have Tina, Ellie, and Dusty in the neighbourhood, and I have Comet a few blocks away. I hope she’s partying hard and getting all the love she deserves from her owner, Charlotte. 

There’s a tree beside me. It’s tall, and fake (I know enough about what real trees look like to tell) and it’s decorated with blue and white baubles and sparkly tinsel. Underneath are boxes wrapped in beautiful patterns and ribbony bows. 

It’s Christmastime with the Millers, and that means comfort, good food, and family. 

We had been planning to go over to Ellie’s owner’s place for about a week now. It helps us to plan things in advance, especially as Rowan is still young and his parents will need to make sure that they’re ready for a disruption to routine. I’m excited to see my pups just as Jack is excited to see his nephews and nieces. I hope – no, I know – that things will go smoothly. I’m looking forward to the joyful energy of the holiday season in a way that I haven’t been able to in a very long time.

Brescia saunters up to me and watches the snow. Her breath fogs up the window in front of her, and I can see her reflection in the glass. Her eyes look like a fireplace: warm, amber, dark, and sparkling in the reflection from every which way. She’s beautiful. 

I want to give her something. I don’t know what to give her, given that I don’t have currency or the means to make anything. In the past, I’d give her experiences, or a break – I’d take over some of her duties, I’d bring her food, you know the drill – but now I can’t do that. We’re fed and rested, with little to no responsibilities. But as it’s our first Christmas away from the Den, I want to do something special for her. 

“We’re going to see the pups today,” says Brescia as she steps away from the window. “How lucky we are that it’s going to be a white Christmas with the family, without the worries we would have had even just last year.”

“Last year we didn’t have the pups,” I remind her, and Brescia nods. “Hard to believe that. They’ve been in our lives for so long, it feels like we’ve been parents forever. Of course, we had Comet, but she was pretty self-sufficient as long as we’ve known her.”

“I guess it’ll do that to you,” says Brescia with a smile. “I’m going outside to the backyard. You coming?”

I heave a deep breath and nod, and Brescia leaps off the couch. We head to the back of the house and step outside. The change in temperature is a little startling after being in the heated house for so long. Brescia steps onto the snow and takes a few steps, admiring her footprints in the snow. 

Kate’s tulips have been dead for many a month, but the light dusting of snow on them makes them seem beautiful. I suppose they are still flowers in the end. 

Brescia gasps as she finds a particularly deep patch of snow. She laughs after she finally finds her footing, and then turns to look back at me. 

“Guess there’s still some left over from last week’s snow,” she says. “Come on – it’s not that cold after you get used to it.”

I follow her into the snow, and for a moment I can forget the house behind me and I can imagine we’re traipsing in the forest, the snow too deep for us to actually notice our footsteps. The sounds of the city fade away into the distance.

🐾

The evening rolls around, as does a deeper layer of snow on the streets and slight frost on the window panes. Jack rings the doorbell of his sister Camryn’s house and she opens the door with a flush of pink on her face.

“Come in, come in! Merry Christmas!” she exclaims, shooing us inside. “If I’d have known you were walking I’d have told you not to! Tea, coffee, hot chocolate anyone?” 

“Tea for me,” says Kate, while Jack nods his agreement. “A warm fire and towels for the dogs, I think.”

“Right this way! Make yourselves at home.” 

Tina, Ellie, and Dusty are sitting in the living room as Dusty’s owner builds a little fence around them out of blocks. Tomorrow is officially Christmas, where everyone will open gifts and hug and thank one another. 

And I still don’t have any gifts for those I love. 

The fence around the pups is finished, and Dusty’s young owner, a boy of about ten, delicately attempts to place an archway over the entrance. Ellie doesn’t let him, however, and barrels out of the entrance to meet me and her mother. 

“MERRY CHRISTMAS!” she cries in excitement. “You’re all cold and wet!”

“We walked here with our owners,” Brescia explains. “The snow is still falling.”

“Oh! Cool! Dusty, Tina, look who’s here!”

“We see,” said Tina, also walking out of the fence. Dusty simply climbs over the fence, trying not to break the construction. He’s grown quite a bit over the past fall and winter, and sometimes I think he forgets how different in size he is now. He manages to step over the fence without touching the blocks whatsoever. 

We hug, and talk about what’s happened in our lives over the past little while since we’ve seen each other (which, granted, isn’t that much). But it’s such a beautiful relief to hear their voices, and for them to be okay and taken care of over the wintry months that I don’t even care.

🐾

The night is warm in the way nights seldom are. We watch the fire, warming up by the family as they watch a movie on the TV above, and for once I see my reflection in the glass and not the swirling images in my head of crumbling, splintering wood, and for once I hear how the fire is gentle and not destructive. Brescia leans in close to me and I know she is thinking the same thing as her amber eyes close and her breath becomes deeper, more stable and rhythmic. 

🐾

The next day we are woken up by the scramble of a family eager to open presents and experience the material joys of Christmas. We sit around the tree and everyone in turn picks up and unwraps their gifts. Even us dogs get gifts: from bones, to new toys, to new accessories. The pups are overjoyed at their new toys and I sit watching them eagerly as I gnaw on a bone. Brescia lays on a pillow she dragged off the couch, gnawing on a bone of her own. 

“I still wish I had something for the pups,” I can’t help telling her. “And for you.”

Brescia turns her eyes downward with a small smile.

“I’ll tell you something, right here, right now, Scar,” she begins. “Just being alive, being here with you, being surrounded by warmth and love and family… that in and of itself is a gift. After last summer, I didn’t think we’d be here. I didn’t think we’d ever be as happy as we are now. I didn’t think we’d be as safe as how we are now. I don’t need anything from you, except for you to be safe, happy, and healthy, and for our pups to be loved, cared for, and growing up to be beautiful and kind. That is the perfect Christmas gift for me.” 

I heave a sigh and lean against Brescia, letting my bone fall to the floor beside me. 

“What did I ever do to deserve you,” I murmur into her fur. “What is it about me that keeps you around, huh?” 

Brescia laughs. 

“Is it not enough for me to say I love you?”

“I love you too,” I reply, almost methodically, except every time I say it, I remember a time when there was a worry that I would never be able to. 

We watch our pups enjoying themselves, and the family setting up a Christmas breakfast with waffles and cookies, coffee, and warm milk for the kids. 

The snow outside has stopped and it seems that I’m not the only one to notice it. The kids dress in snowsuits over top of their Christmas pajamas and everyone goes outside to play in the snow. Ellie, Dusty and Tina jump into snow banks and slip around on the ice (after a gentle “be careful” from Brescia). 

For the first Christmas of our new life, and the first Christmas of the pups’ lives, it sure has been a successful one. It’s been one that I hope to relive every year for as long as I am around to be with them.

OUTRO

If you liked this one, consider checking out my novels which feature these characters and more! Also check out the second short story featuring our favourite girl, Comet!

Posted on by Catherine

Summer 2023: 24-Hour Short Story Contest

In July 2023 I entered the 24-Hour Short Story contest, hosted by Writer’s Weekly.

I’m very proud to say that my story was one of the winners!

My story, titled “How to Fall” was one of 35 Grab Bag winners, and I could select a free E-book about writing in whatever aspects I desired. I’m very happy with the results even if I didn’t win money or anything. I’m going to keep writing and submitting my work to many different places and I hope whoever’s reading this will do the same, despite rejections or successes.

You can read my story here.

I also have a bunch of new stuff happening for the rest of 2023, please stick around for all the updates!

I just finished a draft of a new novel I plan to release (don’t know when, but hopefully sometime either this year or in early 2024!) and I have ideas for books coming even after that. Follow my Instagram for more updates as I am more active there!

Don’t forget to check out my novel, Scarred, out now in paperback, E-book, and soon to be audiobook format!

Life is a story. How will you write yours?

Until next time,

Catherine Khaperska

Posted on by Catherine

Rating and Ranking: April and May

Here we go! I’ve been super busy (and chances are I’ll be busy again with exam season coming up) but here are my reads for April and May!

The Poetry of Robert Frost – Robert Frost

I got a huge vintage copy of this at the thrift store and was super excited to get into it! This is my first full poetry book I’ve ever read and I really enjoyed it! When I got to read the poems that I recognized from previous classes or any other place, it was a quick wave of nostalgia that felt good. I also liked that a lot of the poems talked about nature and all its aspects, the good and the bad.

I will rate this a four out of five stars for the nostalgia and simplicity and vibes of it.

The Atlas Six – Olivie Blake (The Atlas, #1)

I really liked this book! I’ve been wanting to read it for quite a while and I’d heard great things about it too. I heard it gave off dark academia vibes and was very immersive, which I have to say it did! But for me, the plot didn’t go as fast as I thought it would and it had just a smidge too much philosophy in it. Don’t get me wrong, philosophical books are great in their own respects, but I felt like I wasn’t expecting it to be as philosophical as it was.

The story is basically about how the top six most powerful mages (or medians, as they’re called) are brought to the Alexandrian Society to study and become caretakers of all the ancient knowledge stored within the Alexandrian Society, recruited and working alongside a mysterious man named Atlas Blakely.

The six initiates are Libby Rhodes and Nico de Varona (physicists that can control the natural elements of the world), Tristan Caine (who can see through illusions and see the world in all its real glory), Parisa Kamali (a telepath), Callum Nova (a manipulative empath), and Reina Mori (a naturalist who can understand the language of plants).

As they form alliances and get used to life in the Alexandrian Society, they learn that at the end of initiation, one of them will end up dead: eliminated by the other five initiates.

The characters are all incredibly well thought out, and I will definitely continue the series with The Atlas Paradox. My personal favourite is Parisa (she’s a powerful and confident woman who doesn’t have to sacrifice any femininity!). I give this book a 4.5 out of 5 stars.

Stone Blind – Natalie Haynes

Everyone knows the Medusa story: that she was a beautiful woman, sexually assaulted by Poseidon in Athena’s temple, and got turned into a monster for it with snakes for hair and a gaze that turns anyone who looks at her to stone. Then she is killed by the hero Perseus, who takes her head and uses it to do a bunch of things (save towns, kill evil people, etc). Out of her stomach comes Chrysaor, a warrior of gold, and Pegasus, the first winged horse.

There are many different interpretations of this myth, but this book takes the myth and sheds new light on it, a different perspective if you will. I really enjoyed this book. Immersive and beautiful, and even if I know the story and most of the Greek myths like the back of my hand, I still followed along with the story without feeling bored in the sense of ‘oh, I know what’s coming next’.

I will give this book a five out of five stars. An absolute masterpiece.

Iron Heart – Nina Varela (Crier’s War, #2)

Ayla and Lady Crier are back and sweeter than ever!

Iron Heart follows them both again as they work together to take down Scyre Kinok and his followers. Apparently, the Scyre has given his Automa followers a new substance called Nightshade (instead of the heartstone that they normally need for survival) but it turns out to be rapidly addictive and can turn even the sweetest and most harmless of Automa into savage killing machines.

Crier runs away from her arranged wedding to the Scyre in order to find Ayla, who is now working with Queen Junn (an enemy ruler to Lady Crier’s father, the sovereign of Rabu) to take down the Scyre and those of his followers addicted to Nightshade, terrorizing and killing any who get in their way.

There are epic battles, soft romantic scenes, pining, friendship, teamwork, and again, lovely world-building without infodumping. I love this series, and I’m sad it’s over but I’m so glad I had the opportunity to read it.

Five out of five. I think that’s obvious by now.

Mirror Girls – Kelly McWilliams

Mirror Girls is a novel set in 1953 at the dawn of the Civil Rights Movement in America. Two sisters, Magnolia and Charlene (who goes by Charlie) are separated at birth after their parents are killed for being of two different races. Magnolia is white-passing and is adopted by a rich white family, the Heathwoods, who live in a small town in the American South called Eureka. Charlie, on the other hand, is much darker-skinned and she is raised by her grandmother in Harlem, New York.

The story starts when Charlie’s Nana has to go back to Eureka so she can die in her hometown. There, Charlie learns of her sister, and around the same time, Magnolia learns of hers. Such brings about a curse on the two of them. Technically the curse started when they were originally separated, but now they’re starting to feel the effects of it. Magnolia’s reflection in the mirror disappears, and she can’t eat anything. She has to choose a side: pass for white her whole life, or live as a Black woman with her sister, and give up the life of luxury she’s been living with the Heathwoods her whole life.

I loved this book. It was very real, and I normally don’t read the acknowledgements section of a book, but something compelled me to do so when I finished this book. Turns out the author did a lot of research before writing this book, and it definitely showed.

I think it’s really important to read books about experiences you might not be familiar with and to learn about our world’s history even if it’s not kind in the slightest, because it can help us understand each other and why things are the way they are in the current world.

I give this book also 5/5 stars, and I truly recommend it to absolutely everyone, whether you’re a fan of historical fiction/fantasy or not.

Alright now to round up our final ratings:

  1. Stone Blind (Natalie Haynes), Iron Heart (Nina Varela), Mirror Girls (Kelly McWilliams) – 5/5 stars!
  2. The Atlas Six (Olivie Blake) – 4.5/5 stars!
  3. The Poetry of Robert Frost (Robert Frost) – 4/5 stars!

Do you agree? Disagree? Let me know in the comments!

Subscribe so you can see future posts as they come out!

Life is a story. How will you write yours?

Until next time,

Catherine Khaperska

Posted on by Catherine

Scarred is live!

Hey all! This is a really quick post just to say that Scarred is now in the pre-order stage!

It will officially come out on April 15th, but if you’re as excited as I am, we have the pre-order available! Links can be found on my publications page!

Thanks to everyone who helped make this a reality, it is a dream come true. Thank you from the bottom of my heart!

– Catherine Khaperska 🙂

Posted on by Catherine

My Writing Ritual

Every writer has those special things that they do before writing: whether it is to get them in the proper inspired mood or if it’s just something to make the experience special.

Today I am going to share my special routine/ritual that I do before writing. Every writer has their own routine, and I’m sharing this so you guys can get an insight into my process and also maybe to inspire you to create your own routine as well!

Location

I always write in more or less the same spot: my desk. I write best in the evening when it’s dark but I don’t want to be staring at a bright screen when my surroundings are dark, so I turn on a small lamp that I have beside me and it lights up the space pretty well.

Lights/Atmosphere

I have LED strips going around my closet doors, and each colour represents something different. Normally I know what type of scene I’m going to write, so that helps me decide what kind of lighting I should put. Turning on my LEDs is the first thing I do in my writing process.

Red lights are put on for battle scenes or arguments: any time when anger or very strong energetic emotions are at play.

I use green light (or sometimes light blue) for calm, nature-y scenes. Green is for when the emotion is relaxed and serene.

However, dark blue light is for sad scenes: death, or moments of vulnerability, or anytime when there could be tears.

I use a variety of different colours depending on the moment: yellows, oranges, purples, but the three on top are the most common light colours I use. (I rarely ever use the rainbow function on my LEDs… maybe for celebration/victory scenes? That’s an idea…)

Music and Sounds

I use two different platforms for my auditory atmosphere. I use YouTube as well as Ambient Mixer.

YouTube has a bunch of different classical/ambient playlists that can last from a half-hour to over ten hours. My favourite channel is called nobody and they have lots of playlists that range from energetic to white noise, and I love it. My current listen is called ‘you’re listening to the moon sing for 10 hours, 17 minutes, and 10 seconds’. I’m about halfway through, but paired with Ambient Mixer soundscapes, it makes a truly great experience.

My next step after this playlist (or any other YouTube playlist I’m using) is to put on an Ambient Mixer soundscape. Sometimes these soundscapes have music, sometimes they don’t. Another thing that’s great about Ambient Mixer is that if there’s one particular sound (for example, a scraping of some sort) that you don’t like, but everything else in that soundscape you do like, you can change it out for something else, or even mute it! You have complete control over what sounds you hear, how often, and even how loud or soft certain sounds are! It’s also completely free to use.

My current favourite is called ‘Sleepy coffee shop on a rainy day’.

Food/Drink

I typically don’t eat while I’m writing but I do make sure I’m fed. I enjoy drinking tea while I write but sometimes if I forget the tea is there and I’m absorbed into my writing it can get cold faster than I’d like it to…

A small update on Scarred:

The publication date is set to April 15th! I will share the cover design as soon as I can but from what I know so far it is super cute!

And that’s all! Thank you so much for reading! Subscribe so you can see future posts as they come out, and leave a comment and tell me what your writing routine is, if you have one of course! 🙂

Life is a story. How will you write yours?

Until next time,

Catherine Khaperska

Posted on by Catherine

An Update to my Publishing Story

Guys: It’s time for the big reveal.

I’m getting Scarred published: in it’s entirety!

I don’t know much about it other than it’s going to be published by Sulis International Press, located in Los Angeles, California. I don’t know the cover page, the length, or when it’s coming out, but that information will be released as soon as decisions are made!

Thank you for following me so far and I hope to see you follow me as I keep working!

Posted on by Catherine

My Publishing Story (this far)

Today I am going to be writing about my story as a writer and my story in the publishing world specifically. This story takes place over the course of several recent years and is not finished yet! If you want to read about my humble beginnings as a writer, let me know and I will gladly share that!

But this story begins with the first COVID-19 quarantine in March of 2020.

My friend and I were bored. For the sake of my friend’s privacy, they will remain unnamed. Our school work was coming in once a week, all at once, so we’d be spending the whole day working to get it done, then all the rest of the week would be a mindless, repetitive routine of staying home, not being able to see anyone outside of your household, and worrying about the whole pandemic thing going on. 

So my friend suggests that maybe we should write a novel together. Something to keep us occupied and to keep our heads from turning into mush. 

Of course, I said yes. And soon it became a daily routine that every day, in the evening, for an hour or so, we would call each other on Skype and talk, and write, and joke, and we both got things done and grew closer as friends.

And over the course of six months, March to August, we had finished fifty thousand words. We were twelve at the time. It was a great achievement for the both of us.

That was when I suggested that maybe we should send it in to a publisher. My friend said ‘okay’, so we researched publishers until we found one that we both liked and that was local. We sent our cover letter and first three chapters to Nevermore Press, a small publishing company located in Lunenburg, Nova Scotia. 

Now all we had to do was wait two months.

On schedule, two months later, on November 2nd, 2020, came our reply. We were super excited. This was our first experience with publishing, and this would be the first serious email that would determine the future of our novel. 

The email came from Ernest “Ernie” Hadley, the co-owner and editor from Nevermore Press. He congratulated us on completing our novel and told us that while he couldn’t publish our book just yet, he was willing to work with us on revising and editing our manuscript. 

We were ecstatic. You’d expect us to be disappointed that our book wouldn’t be published, but it was completely the opposite. These publishers, who had seen many adults send their work in, who had many more years of experience with writing than we did, still were willing to put effort into working with us! At this point we would’ve been thirteen years old. 

We accepted and were a hundred percent willing to work with these publishers. We knew very little about what was going to come out of it, but we were excited to see where it would take us. 

After the text was edited and all seemed to be in order, we were beginning to think more of where the book would go after that. Would it be published? Would the editing be the end of our correspondence? 

We were told that there was going to be a collection of stories published in a book, and the proceeds would go to support the SSPL (South Shore Public Libraries) Bookmobile project, which we were very excited about. A Bookmobile is basically a library on wheels for rural communities. It would be the first time our names would be in print next to our work!

Plans were put on hold when, in April 2021, Ernest, or “Ernie” as we called him, passed away. We were devastated. After months of work, and getting to build a relationship with him and Nevermore through our work, we were so, so upset to hear of his passing. 

At this point we understood that Nevermore was going to be going through some major changes. So we took a long, long break from writing together. It wasn’t until July 2021 that we decided to email Annie, Ernie’s wife and co-owner of Nevermore Press, to ask what our next steps would be. We learned that the ownership would be transferred to Jayme Spinks, who had been working as production manager before Ernie’s passing. 

So we emailed Jayme and were told that they wouldn’t be able to work with us to publish our book. However, the first chapter would still be published in the SSPL Bookmobile collection fundraiser, and we would be notified when it came out. 

That seemed to be the end of our correspondence. Me and my friend began a second book in the series, but our writing period was much more sporadic as we got busy with school and what meagre extracurriculars we could do as the pandemic went on. 

I kept writing. My friend unfortunately gave up the project last year. We agreed that I will take full ownership of the project, and I am grateful that I had the experience of working on it together. I love the characters we’ve created and I am still incredibly proud of what twelve-year-old me was able to accomplish with the time, resources, and experience I had. I am still working on it in hopes that it will eventually get published. 

I was sending my book to other publishers, trying to see who would pick up the project. I got very little replies, but was determined to get my debut novel out there. 

In October of 2022, the night of my school’s Haunted Halls Halloween event, I got another, unexpected email from Jayme. Turns out, the SSPL Bookmobile fundraiser book was finally out, and I was invited to the book launch! I could barely contain my excitement. 

The book is called ‘Inside’, and it is an anthology full of stories from Nova Scotian authors, specifically around the South Shore and Lunenburg area. There is really no feeling quite like seeing your name in print on a book cover, or inside one (get it?). I don’t think I can ever get used to that feeling. 

Now here we are in 2023. I have many plans for Scarred. To quote Ernie:

“”As an editor, you hope somewhere along the line you’ve helped save someone’s career. These two are writing at a level beyond their age and I really hope they stick with it.””

I’ve stuck with it. I’m still sticking with it. I don’t plan to stop writing, ever. Without Ernie’s and Nevermore’s help, I likely would not be where I am today. 

If Scarred does end up published, the first page will read: 

“For Ernest Hadley. Thank you for seeing the potential in Scarred and thank you for your dedication to working on this project.”

Until next time,

Catherine Khaperska