The Unadoptables: “Catnapped!”

Below is our awesome, cat-tailed logo made by Autumn Haynes!

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Our first issue of The Unadoptables is titled “Catnapped!”. I have to say, Brooks has written a damn good comic (with my help of course).


Above is a pencil sketch of the first page. This page has actually been inked and colored, but we’re not ready to show it yet because we haven’t finalized the colors. Until we’re ready, you can admire Beth Morrell’s amazing talent with layout, perspective, and facial expression!



The Unadoptables: Marmalade

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Meet Marmalde, an adorable Scottish fold kitten living at Calico Coffee with the other unadoptables. Marmalade knows her mind and what she wants. She has a clear vision of the perfect life for her and Vincent, the elderly cat with whom she is bonded. In her mind, she won’t accept anything less than a good home with nice people who give them affection when they want it, but leave them alone otherwise.

Marmalade really wants this for Vincent. Though she is totally devoted to him, Marmalade is a little blind to his age, so she often pushes his limits. She wants him to be happy, but feels like he doesn’t have the gumption to get the life he deserves, and so she feels it’s up to her. But since Marmalade is fearless and the Captain Janeway of cats, she’s up to the task.

Our Kickstarter campaign will launch on June 6th, 2017!

Guest Post: Brooks’ Cats

Why is it that when we tell stories about the cats we’ve loved, we so often talk about the accidents, the near-catastrophes and the horrendous messes? One of my very favorite cats, name of 149, was a friendly and affectionate little moggy. Every single morning he nuzzled into the crook of my armpit to knead me, purring while I writhed in happy agony because I’m ticklish. But in conversation I’m more likely to tell you about that time he got a huge abcess under his skin: The vet had to shave his whole side, make two incisions, and thread a plastic tube in one incision and out the other so the abcess could drain. 149 came home in that state. He could only walk sideways, tube side first, as if proudly showing it off.

Once I raised a kitten, Mekon, who indulged in every kittenish virtue: pouncing, chasing, snuggling, passing out in the middle of play. If we get to swapping cat stories, though, I’ll probably tell you about the time he licked my toast and then sneezed into my tea. My cat Quiktrip, a high-strung part-Burmese (with a voice to prove it), slept tucked in behind my knees every night for a year—all night. More often, I remember the day he was inside his cat carrier and got so worked up that he threw himself, carrier and all, off the table where I’d put him while I unlocked the front door.


I think we remember these moments of terror, exasperation and indignation best because those are the times when we most strongly relate to our cats. We aren’t simply cohabitating or engaging in some common owner/pet exchange, but connecting. Even if that connection is the cat saying, I am angry at you for going away, and now I’m going to piss in your suitcase.

We especially remember when those connections are about trust. During the reign of Mekon, I woke one night to find him tapping my head. But he didn’t want to play, he just sat still until I noticed an inch of dental floss dangling from his mouth. I gave it a tug and pulled out a good couple feet. He’d gotten himself into trouble, and even with only a quarter-teaspoon of brains he knew I would help him. We were communicating. Wet, gag-inducing (both of us) communication, but still.


And on the day 149 had that tube put in his side, I walked into the exam room at the vet’s, and the instant 149 saw me he stood up on the examination table and put his paws on my chest, meowing, looking me in the eyes, clearly recognizing me as a friend and ally; begging me to get him the hell out of there. Out of over ten years of living with that cat, that’s the moment I remember most.

The Unadoptables: Jasmine

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Jasmine (Yasmeen), age 19, has just started working as a barista at Calico Coffee. Hank hired her right away after she gushed for twenty minutes straight about how much she loves cats. She wishes she could take all the unadoptable cats home with her, but her dorm room is too small and it doesn’t allow pets.

Jasmine has a strong need for every cat to love her back, making her relationship with the cafe’s resident calico, Ripper (pictured above), a bit one sided. Despite a number of scratches, Jasmine keeps trying to affectionately nuzzle Ripper (just like Brooks!).

Jelly, the resident gross cat, usually has a hard time finding people to pet him, but now with Jasmine being a sure thing, he gets lots of cuddles. Jasmine is pretty good about keeping extra clean aprons around as well as plenty of hand sanitizer.

Jasmine is hiding something, though. You’ll find out exactly what she’s hiding in the first issue of The Unadoptables.


Mendel’s Inheritance Sketches

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The first illustration for Mendel’s Inheritance is done, and now Louise Kay Uy, the artist, is working on the second and third. Above is a sketch of the talking rabbit Lep. I chose A since she looks a bit more evolved from a regular rabbit than B. She will appear in the second illustration along with a new, fantastical creature.

I have about 16,000 words left to write for Mendel’s Inheritance, the second book of The Alchemist’s Theorem series. I’m aiming to get this first draft done by the end of May, but with the upcoming crowdfunding campaign for our webcomic The Unadoptables, it’s gonna be tight. But I am determined!

The Unadoptables: Vincent von Toast

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Vincent von Toast is a bit on the elderly side. At age 13, not much surprises him, or gets him excited, or anxious. He is a little anal retentive, though, and gets grumpy when the cat toys are scattered about the cafe instead of collected neatly in the toy basket. Napping takes up most of his day and he manages to tolerate the other cats.

Until recently, Vincent had resigned himself to never getting adopted, but then something unexpected happened. He bonded with a feisty and determined kitten named Marmalade. Marmalade is hell-bent on getting herself–and Vincent–out of the pokey and into a comfortable home. She’s got endless plans for how they are going to either catch themselves an owner or break out and live free in the wild.

Vincent knows that Marmalade would have a much better chance of being adopted without him, but she won’t leave his side. Still, he encourages her dreams. But Marmalade’s optimism about the bonded-pair’s future forces Vincent to keep up appearances, and even get a little hopeful from time to time.