Deep down I knew. All day I stalked round the house ‘just knowing’ that whichever coffeeshop I picked for meeting Cathy Cassidy in, it would be the one that was closed. Luckily I was wrong. The place gave us half an hour before turfing us out. We drank fast and then we ran. But not before Cathy had insisted on paying. I told her it was my turn as she paid last time, and her retort to that was incredulity that anyone would remember. Remember? I even have a photo of her money.
So, anyway. Cathy came to Stirling on this momentous day for Scotland, feeling jealous because she is no longer eligible to vote. She was doing an event for Off the Page at the Tolbooth, and she is such a nice person that she agreed to meet up with me before it, only to be shown the door. Cathy even acknowledged that I had been right when I said her hotel was posh. (Of course I’m right about these things.) And it was conveniently close to the venue, so we only needed to climb that hill once and then back down again. (Note to Stirling Council: At 19.45 a witch needs street lights to manouvre herself safely down that hill!)
Over our swift ‘coffee’ we swapped family stories, and then we climbed some more. The nice people at the Tolbooth let us sit the remaining time out in the bar, which was closed, but still nice. After some prepping in the auditorium, we went and sat in Cathy’s dressing room, where I could have had a shower had I been so inclined. (Glam!)
It was good to be able to case the joint before the event, and I found myself a suitable seat at the back. Met the helpful lady from Tuesday, who recognised me as the troublemaker, and I pointed out that I am not stalking her literary guests, even if it looks like that. (Not much, anyway.) When the guy with the lights heard there were two chocolate fairies coming, his face lit up. Tsk.
At half past six the first girls came in and claimed the middle seats in the front row. All the girls (I am fairly sure there were only girls) were beautifully dressed, which is something I’ve observed about Cathy’s fans before. Quite a few mums and two dads.
This event was mainly about the latest of the chocolate box girls, Sweet Honey. Cathy said she’d answer any question – within reason – except if it had to do with numbers. And there was a no teachers allowed rule, which broke, because ‘they always slip through the net.’ So any fan who wanted detailed information on daydreaming, Cathy’s favourite subject at school, was directed to her website.
The teacher who told the young Cathy that daydreaming wouldn’t get her anywhere was wrong. Cathy has visited most parts of the world in her role as very popular author. (So there.) She talked about her research on chocolate, and how she ‘had to’ travel to a beach in Somerset to find where her chocolate girls live. Cathy plans her books with the help of a mood board, and we saw photos of some charming young men for Honey in the new book.
Persistence pays, as the teenage Cathy found when she finally had a story published, before landing her dream job working for Jackie magazine. These days she runs the blogzine Cathy Cassidy: Dreamcatcher with the help of her fans.
Her favourite book as a child was Watership Down, and it taught her that reading is cool, because although she tried to hide the silly rabbit on the book’s cover, she was chatted up by the coolest boy in school, and discovered that he loved the book too…
The most fun book to write was Dizzy, her first one. These days Cathy has to get past the throwing-the-laptop-out-of-the-window moment. Earlier this week she had a mishap where she lost a week’s work when her computer crashed (not through a window, I expect), so she now has to promise to save and back-up everything a hundred times.
As for the dreaded number question, she might have written 22 books. But generally her fans know the facts better than she does. There is more and more to do, and she feels as if she’s never going to catch up with herself. But if she does, there will be an Alice in Wonderland kind of book for us next year.
When question time was over, Cathy’s fans formed a signing queue faster than you could say book signing. And those who weren’t in that queue, were in the other one, buying more Cathy Cassidy books.
I tried to take photos, but basically, Cathy disappeared behind the hordes of lovely girls. And that is as it should be.
Me, I hobbled down the hill in the dark, as I said, musing over how Cathy manages to make every event feel special. I am an old cynic who has heard much of it before, but even I felt pretty special. If I were an 11-year-old girl I would worship her. I mean, I sort of do anyway, in my ancient way. But you can always worship more.