Tag: cats

  • I Have No Idea What to Blog About, So I’m Posting Pictures of Cats

    Tenka Bellyrub
    Tenka, begging for a belly rub.

    You thought I was kidding, didn’t you? You thought you’d click through on that link and you’d maybe find a cat picture or two, but the rest of this post would be filled with meaty, substantial advice about writing, or marketing, or improving your discoverability.

    Zak Posed
    Zak in his CAT FANCY cover pose.

    But no, I’ve got nothing. Or rather, what I really want to do is get back to my super-secret new series that I’m working on, but I haven’t blogged in six weeks and feel an obligation to get a post up. Since the one thing I always have in abundance is cat pictures, cat pictures are what you get.

    So feel free to ooh and aah, or turn away in disgust (I see you dog lovers curling your lips in disdain). But this is all you’re gonna get today.

    Actually, I take that back. You can also get a screaming good deal on my paranormal romance, Hearts Redemption for a limited time. This book is usually $2.99, but until March 31st, it’s only 99 cents. Buy it at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Smashwords.

    Zak
    Zak as an itty bitty
    kitty.
    Zak fighting aliens with his laser eyes.
    Zak fighting aliens with his laser eyes.

     

    hp photosmart 720
    “The boys,” Charlie (ginger tabby) and Casper (mackerel tabby). RIP
    Cozy
    My sweet lovebug, Cozy, gone now for many years.
  • Taking Responsibility for Your Pets–Or Your Fictional Characters

    ZakAlmost three-and-a-half years ago, I had to say goodbye to my orange long-haired cat, Charlie. He was a wonderful cat, and sorely missed. But after a few months, I started thinking about how much I like having three cats and decided I would be open to the possibility of adopting another kitty.

    As circumstances would have it, a feral cat had kittens right outside my son and daughter-in-law’s apartment. My son and dil coordinated with a local cat rescue organization and planned to capture the kittens and bring them in. Sadly, they could only grab one before the rest of them scattered.

    Zak CuddlingStill working with the rescue group, they got the little kitten fairly comfortable with humans, then arranged for me to adopt him. Rather, they arranged for me to adopt her–there was a little confusion about gender, even after the kitten arrived at my house. It took me calling the vet and confirming that yes, she did a neuter and not a spay, to establish that the new addition was Zak, not Zoey.

    It had been a long time since I had adopted a kitten and a feral kitten was a…well, a cat of a different color. He lived in my office for a few weeks, and whenever something startled him (which was often), he would race into the corner under my printer, completely out of reach. He would burrow under the covers at night, keeping me awake. He would play fetch with a toy mouse. And sometimes he would hide somewhere in the house, terrifying me that he’d gotten outside and was lost.

    He’s now one of the best cats I’ve ever had, although at 13+ pounds, he can be quite a lapful. He still dips a paw into his water dish to lick it off and test it before drinking. And although he doesn’t play fetch, he’ll still run around the house carrying that mouse in his jaws.

    Awakening Final cover-sWhat does this have to do with fictional characters? Well, they may not be living, breathing beings, but they can be as complex and problematical as a finicky feral kitten. You have to consider characters them from every angle, and take as good care of them as you would that pet cat.

    How do you “take care” of a fictional character? You get to know them inside and out. You write dialogue for them that fits them, give them actions that are realistic for their personality, write a storyline for them that allows them to achieve the goals you carefully set up for them. You make them seem as real as that wide-eyed kitten I adopted.

    You don’t make them a prominent character at the beginning of the book, so your reader thinks they’re important to the story, then drop them partway through, never to be seen again. You don’t introduce them a hundred pages in, as if they’re an afterthought. If it’s a minor character that’s intended to have a small role, that’s okay. But even minor characters must be necessary to a story, and have their part to play out. They can’t just be dropped in and dropped out at a whim, any more than you would adopt a kitten for no particular reason, then return it a week later.

    Full CoverOkay, maybe I’m stretching the cat analogy a bit. I am this close to being a cat lady and could go on and on about felines until your eyes glaze over. But I’m also a fanatic about characters, about every one having a purpose, and each character behaving in such a way that makes sense. When a character acts out of character in a book, it spoils the story for me.

    So, cats or characters, make a commitment. Take responsibility. Give them the care and feeding they both deserve.

  • My Father’s Daughter

    Years ago, my mom told me a story about my dad that was both funny and telling. Early in their marriage, my dad decided to paint the picket fence surrounding the house they lived in. The thing is, he didn’t just get out a can of paint and start painting. He had to figure out a better way. As my mother told it, he spent more time rigging up a contraption to hang the paint can around his neck for handy access than he did actually painting the fence.

    I am so my father’s daughter, luckily with some modifications. While I have that same compulsion to find that “better way” to do a task, I resist that urge when the straightforward way will do. But I can come up with thingamajigs with the best of them.

    For instance, I’ve been spending more hours than usual at my computer working on the developmental edit for Awakening, the sequel to Tankborn. I was ending up in a fair amount of pain by the end of the day. Not only was there some carpel tunnel type inflammation, the pressure on my wrist bone from my mouse pad and laptop led to quite a bit of soreness.

    So I put on my thinking cap (the one I inherited from my dad) and considered options for protecting my hands. I went digging through my fabric supply in the garage and came up with some black fake fur I’d used to create some stuffed animal or another. I started out by just cutting a couple rectangles, then folding them in half for extra padding. Resting my hands on those made a world of difference to my comfort.

    But I still had a few issues. How did I keep the rectangles from unfolding? How did I keep the pads on my wrists? Once they were on my wrists, how did I keep them from slipping too far down my arm?

    What you see here is what I came up with. I stitched the rectangles into squares. I added a piece of black elastic to hold the guards to my wrists. Then, to keep them from slipping down, I tied on a couple of hair bands. Hmm, I suppose I should have looked for hair bands in black to keep the same color scheme.

    This is how they look in action. They are dorky looking in the extreme, but since I had all the material on hand, they were free to make (and not too time consuming). Plus, they work just fine, at least to pad my wrist bone. As a protector against carpal tunnel syndrome, they suck, but that wasn’t their purpose.

    For that, I had to rearrange my work space. I use a laptop, and I could never get a very good wrist angle while typing on the keyboard. Not to mention with the screen being down at desk height, my neck was having issues with my head constantly tipping down to see the screen. So I did two things. One, I got an external keyboard with its keys laid out in a slightly more ergonomic way. It allowed me to a) have my forearms level with my wrist (essentially parallel to the floor) and b) have a comfortable angle between elbow to fingers as I type rather than straight on.

    The second thing I did is elevate my laptop. This allows me to look at the screen straight on rather than tipping my head down. I feel rather smug that I didn’t have to buy the rack it’s sitting on. It was tucked away in the garage (because we never throw anything away), just waiting for a brilliant idea to put it into use.

    What you can’t see in the pictures is that I have a drawer open on the mouse side, and a board on top of it to give my arm support when I’m mousing. All of these changes have made a big difference in my comfort as I make my way through my manuscript.

    Unfortunately, my cats tend to thwart my ergonomics when they lie in my lap and drape themselves across my arm. Casper here isn’t as much a problem as Tenka, who suspends half her 14-pound body across my left arm. Ouch.

     

    But I think my solutions are pretty cool. And I think my dad would be proud.

  • Rent-a-Cat

    I’m heading down to L.A. tomorrow to attend the international summer conference of SCBWI (Society of Children’s Book Writers & Illustrators). Although I’ve been to three regionals since I joined the organization last October, this is my first time attending the big SCBWI conference. I’m really looking forward to it.

    As a former member of Romance Writers of America, I’ve been to several of their big annual conferences, so I have some idea of what to expect. There will be too many workshops to choose from (although this time I have a spiffy app to help with that), over-air-conditioned rooms, rubber chicken lunches, and bleary-eyed mornings spent groping for coffee.

    Although I’ve pubbed plenty of romance novels, my book Tankborn, due out in September, is my very first young adult. I still feel green-as-grass, wet-behind-the-ears about the children’s market. So I plan to do the sponge thing at SCBWI LA and soak up as much wisdom as I can.

    To save on expenses, I’ve entered into an “arranged marriage” (sounds like one of my romance novels) to share a room with a fellow SCBWI member from Kentucky. I’ve done that in the past at RWA conferences and it’s both weird and fun to spend a few days with a total stranger. (Of course, there was that one conference where I roomed with three other women and ended up going home with someone else’s panties in my laundry. Eew.) I’m thinking I’m really going to enjoy my time with Meredith in L.A..

    The hotel looks like a nice one and it’s in Century City, a very vibrant part of L.A. But like any hotel, it has one drawback–no kitties. I’m used to having three of them snoozing in bed with me, snuggled up beside me or maybe draped across my head or curled up at my feet. But I will be catless for the three days of the conference.

    Here’s what I think all hotels should provide–a rent-a-cat. They should have a collection of some nice, mellow orange tabbies, or couch potato torties. Hotel guests could reserve their kitty when they reserve their room. There could be pictures posted on the hotel website with profiles of each cat. The cat of choice would be waiting for the guest in their room when they arrive, ready for belly rubs and scritches behind the ears, more than happy to curl up in a lap.

    Yeah, yeah, I can hear your objections. Some people are allergic to cats. Won’t that be traumatic for the cat? And what about that catbox?

    Minor issues all to be worked out. Just as some hotels provide smoking rooms, they can provide “cat rooms” for the non-allergic. Kitties would be chosen for their laid-back temperament and would enjoy the attention of one and all. The hotel guest can clean the cat box since they likely have plenty of practice at home.

    Yeah, not ever gonna happen. But I still think it’s a lovely idea. My toes kept toasty by a cat. The sound of purring in my ear as the hotel cat uses my pillow as his bed. And then there’s that familiar cat hair in my morning coffee.

    Just like home.

  • When the Neighborhood Thug is a Black Cat

    I am a dyed in the wool cat lover. I have three, two of which I’ve managed to persuade to be indoor-only and a third who’s an old guy and still set in his indoor-outdoor ways. Even still, he stays mostly close to home, too creaky to wander far. And he’s always in at night.

    But there’s a cat thug in the neighborhood. A miscreant. A hooligan. A hoodlum, a lout. My husband and I call him EBC–Evil Black Cat.

    He’s not a stray. He’s in good flesh, his coat looks good, his eyes are clear. I believe the neighbors own him. I went over there once to discuss the problems I was having with him and they promised to keep him in more often. But if this is the same black cat, that promise didn’t stick.

    So what has he done? He launched himself at my leg and bit me (thank God I was wearing jeans). He’s attacked the neighbor twice and scratched him.

    Back when my girl cat was allowed outside, he chased her and bit her twice, both times requiring a trip to the vet. Once when we had the slider open and the screen door shut, he went right through the screen, knocking it off its track to attack one of my other cats. He went running through the house (admittedly freaked out) before I could finally herd him out the door. I didn’t want to touch him out of fear he’d make mincemeat out of me.

    So no, I’m not a fan of the EBC. He’s a pretty scary guy. There are times I’m tempted to catch him in a humane trap and tote him off to animal control. But I know what would happen to him there, so I just put up with him and keep my cats in as best I can.

    So, any advice out there? What would you do?