Posted by CBethM on June 12, 2025 in Author Posts |
I’m a huge scaredy cat.
I don’t use this term lightly, nor without full knowledge of its meaning; I live with a seventeen-pound cat named Shiloh who is frightened of many things, including: the vent under the pantry, shoes, the occasional misplaced school bag, any new item put on the kitchen table, and the cat bed I bought for him in May. Upon encountering any of these things, he hunches down, tail puffed wide, and stretches his neck to its limit to sniff at whichever dreaded item he has encountered before deciding that it’s not worth the risk, and rushing off.
He’s a huge scaredy cat, and so am I.
I was reminded of this during the past week when I returned to Galveston Island. There’s a lovely state park there (and by lovely, I mean terrifying) that is filled with tall grasses, prickly flowers, innumerable insects, loads of birds, and probably many hidden alligators. (I say probably because there are signs warning of them, but I’ve never seen one.) I journeyed to this state park for the first time four years ago, and, looking out over the wide expanse of largely untamed nature, I got the idea for my second middle grade book, Keepers of the Marsh. It seemed like the perfect place for a witch to live, but unlike Baby Yaga, this witch’s house would stand on alligator legs.
So I was back in the place that inspired my novel but the trail my family had walked before was closed. We went in search of a different one, called “Alligator Loop.” This was not my idea. In fact, walking around a small lake on a trail called “Alligator Loop” was the last thing I would have suggested. Dying while on vacation because a fierce and dangerous reptile dragged me into the water and chomped me to bits was not, and would never be, on my to-do list. Yet, I wanted to be a good sport, so I followed my husband and daughter as we set off. Fortunately or unfortunately, we went the wrong way and when we realized our mistake, we decided just to go with it and hike the next trail. We soon found a path; I can’t call what we walked down a trail. It was merely a strip of mowed grass, which was, we learned later, “Oak Mott Loop.” It wasn’t long but it was scary. The path was about two feet wide and bordered with long grass and tufted, high vegetation. It was filled with flies and mosquitos and mud and puddles. My husband went first, the trailblazer. My daughter was next, striding with confidence. I was at the end, swatting at flying things and holding myself back from crying out (more than once) “What was that?” I stopped at every strange noise, only to push on again. I gasped at every movement, which I quickly followed with a silent, internal peptalk. I was, in short, a huge scaredy cat.
This experience made me reconsider Lana, the main character in Keepers of the Marsh. Although she is only twelve years old, she’s brave. She goes into the marsh—this exact marsh—and faces the witch. She asks questions, and then, when the witch curses her family, she must save them. Lana is far braver than me.
In fact, most of the books I read and hold dear are filled with brave characters. Perhaps it is because I’m such a huge scaredy cat that I appreciate their bravery.
Coyote Sunrise bravely tricks Rodeo into driving across the country, trying to get as close to her old home as possible without him realizing it.
Katniss Everdeen bravely steps in as District Twelve’s tribute for her sister, Prim.
Alina Starkov bravely faces The Darkling and his monsters, the nichevo’ya.
Jane Eyre bravely returns to Thornfield even though she thinks Mr. Rochester is going to soon marry Blanche Ingram.
These brave characters are dear to my heart not because they blindly run toward danger, but because they rush toward threats knowingly. They are not fools. They can see what’s coming. They understand the risks. But they choose to face the peril anyway. Why? For some of them it’s passion. Coyote Sunrise needs to get that buried box with family pictures. Jane Eyre loves Mr. Rochester and will stay with him until she is forced to go. For others, it’s love. Katniss Everdeen won’t let her little sister be a part of the Hunger Games. Alina Starkov knows the Darkling must die to save her country. Whatever the motivation, these characters face danger bravely and they teach us how to. They show us that you can feel scared and still act with courage.
And that’s is the point, isn’t it? Not just in books but in life. Life is scary. It’s filled with dangers, unknowns, and hidden alligators that might drag us into the water and chomp us to bits at any moment. (Metaphorical and real, I suppose.) There are terrors everywhere. But if we don’t face them, we’re not living. We’re hiding. We’re cowering in fear. And although I’m a huge scaredy cat, I try to live like the characters in the books I love. This is why I write brave characters as well. Lana knows that saving her family will be difficult, but she is determined to do it, even if it means working with her twin sister and telling her Nana the truth. And like her, I want to live bravely, even when I feel terrified. This is why when my husband said, “Hey, let’s go check out Alligator Loop,” I nodded and replied, “Okay.” Sure, I never made it to there, to Alligator Loop. Sure, I was scared while we plodded down that wet, buggy path, but I did it, and I’m happy that I did.
Maura Jortner teaches creative writing and literature at Baylor University. She lives in Waco with her husband, two daughters, and a cat that knows tricks. Although she is not a fan of alligators, she wishes she could move to Galveston and hang out in the marshes there every day.
English (US) · 