I see Katya has been at the computer again. Fortunately, she didn’t hide any of my files. If she had lost this post, I would have had a lovely new fur hat for winter wear. Yes, I would.
My guest today, you see, is none other than Cold Lake Cathy herself: Cathy Olliffe-Webster! Yes! ~fist pump~
Cathy Olliffe-Webster has been writing her whole life, much of it as a reporter and editor for community newspapers in southern Ontario. She now lives in Cold Lake, Alberta, Canada, with her infinitely patient husband, Dave and a whole lot of freezing-her-butt-off in the weather forecast. Cathy blogs at Cold Lake Cathy.
MA: Tell us about your book, GREEN EGGS AND WEEZIE, if you pleezie.
Cathy: You think you’ve got the world by the woo-hoo, don’t you? Happily married? Oh yeah. Good kids? Uh huh. That’s what Weezie Polk thought until one day the man who would never cheat on her (never, never, oh no, not him) was caught massaging bare boobies … and they weren’t hers! One thing leads to another and, before you can say Dr. Seuss, Weezie is changing her favourite ladybug underwear in the county jail. How does a respectable, middle-class woman wind up in the back of a police cruiser? How does she lose her house? Her children? And what possesses her to shack up in a dilapidated farmhouse in the middle of a harsh Canadian winter, with nothing but whispers from a long dead grandmother and a can of blueberry pie filling? Green Eggs & Weezie is a cautionary tale for all women who trust too much. There are things even the happiest married women should do to protect themselves and Mizz Weezie will lead them through the messy labyrinth that is a broken heart, with humour, passion and a recipe for the best meat loaf you’ve ever tasted.
Balding, middle-aged and slack around his hairy middle, lumber store manager Butch Polk was an unlikely Lothario and certainly not anybody’s idea of raging male beauty. Anybody but cashier Sharon Thompson, whose tongue was presently thrust in his cheek, burrowing thick around Butch’s back molars like the cordless drills the store had on sale that week in the Matthiasville Bugle.
Butch’s tongue was doing its own exploration, Christopher Columbusing its way in the spaces where Sharon’s molars used to be. She didn’t have many back teeth – it was one of her many charms. They hung together, mouths magnetized, glommed on like teenaged leeches during mating season.
As soon as Sharon had arrived that morning Butch ushered her into his house and out of her pants, boinking her with great enthusiasm over the kitchen sink. When he was done doing her with the dishes he hustled her into the bedroom and out of her remaining clothes, doing a mean missionary in the bed he usually shared with his wife, Weezie, who was in the city for a meeting.
When middle-aged reality took a toll on Butch’s manly parts, they drove to a trendy lunch spot in the next town for New York steak and frites. They drank house white wine, the expensive kind that didn’t come in a box, and talked smut until they were ready for round three. Forgoing tiramisu, they found a back road and did it al fresco against Sharon’s Sunfire, her bare fingers sticking to the back bumper while Butch’s bony buttocks got the precursor to frostbite, then drove back to Butch’s place, where he was to be dropped off in time to meet his kids when they got off the school bus.
A good-bye smooch was turning into something more rambunctious, however. Clothing was loosened, the springs on the Sunfire started squeaking as the grappling got tighter and the windows got steamier. An old Ernest Tubb song came on the radio and his walking the floor tied in with the rhythm of their fevered yearning so neither one of them heard the bus as it approached Butch’s driveway.
MA: Mercy me! ~fans self~ That’s certainly not the sort of thing I’m accustomed to posting. Oh, dearie, dearie me! ~dumps ice water over self~ …Er … Hi, Mom….
Er… Dare I ask what your favorite books growing up were?
Cathy: My favourite book was actually a series of books – Nancy Drew! I was addicted to those black and yellow hardcovers about Nancy, George and Bess, and Christmas night was always about curling up in bed and cracking those stiff covers. Bliss, sheer bliss!
MA: Who would play you in your biopic?
Cathy: Melissa McCarthy (Bridesmaids) would definitely play me in a biopic, especially in my younger years. Kathy Bates would play “old me.” I’d like to say someone glamorous would play my part but that’s just wishful thinking. We are who we are and I wouldn’t want it any other way. Besides, Melissa McCarthy cracks me up – she’s hilarious!
MA: If you could survive on only one food, what would you want it to be?
Cathy: One food??? Just one? OK, if I could ONLY have one food for the rest of my days it would be Barbecued Chicken Feast pizza from Domino’s. With blue cheese dipping sauce and Diet Coke over tons of ice. That all counts as one thing, right? What if it hyphenate it? Barbecued-Chicken-Feast-pizza-blue-cheese-dip-Diet-Coke-ice. Yup, I think that covers it!
Thanks SO MUCH for helping me and Weezie out, Marian. Can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. I know so many women who have lost everything – their homes, their children, money, their minds – when marital break-ups went bad. My life went in the dumpster when my husband left me so I wrote Weezie to help women navigate the jungle that life becomes when divorce hits. We all make the same mistakes, over and over, and it costs us in ways we can’t even imagine when we’re at the altar saying “I Do.” Green Eggs & Weezie is funny in parts, but it’s also sadly true. I hope your readers “give her a go” and enjoy Weezie as much as I enjoyed writing her.
A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: How would your main character answer the questions I asked Cathy?
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