I woke this morning, tangled in sheets, a cat meowing in my face, and realized an absolute truth. Writing and cats have a lot in common. They both plague me.
That’s correct. Writing and cats.
Doesn’t seem logical, I know, but hear me out.
Both are Relentless
Some mornings I would love to roll over and get fifteen extra minutes of sleep, or maybe forty-five. You get the idea. It’s early, the sun isn’t up yet, or it’s cold and raining. I have a million excuses for staying in bed.
But my brain has other plans. I shoot out of bed desperate to capture the dozens of ideas that flooded my dreams during the night. Remember Stephanie Meyer said she dreamed all of the Twilight Saga; clearly, I am not alone. The ideas are literally compelling me to start my writing day.
Perhaps I am overcome by story ideas that can’t wait, or snippets of dreams that will transform into witty dialogue if I get them on paper NOW. These thoughts are so compelling they cannot be delayed, and they will not stop.
Always something. My author brain kicks in as soon as I open my eyes and will not be stilled.
Even if my brain could be silenced, my cat ,Gracie cannot. She who must be obeyed must be dealt with immediately—usually an hour earlier than I want to awaken. The sweet, loving bundle of fur that has been happily sleeping nestled into my side, morphs into a loud clawing, jumping banshee. She won’t let up until I get up, put my feet on the cold kitchen floor and feed her. I have tried locking her out of the room, but I fear she would wake the neighbors!
So you see, both writing and cats are relentless.
Both have Claws
Annabelle, my new kitten is cute and cuddly in the morning, snuggling tightly into my hip, reluctant to get going. When I try to move—after all, I need to feed Gracie and get my ideas on paper—she objects to the disturbance by turning into a snarling furball, with claws.
How does writing show its claws? Some days those words won’t flow, or it’s a day when I must do research, but I want to write. People think writers just sit down and spew forth a book, and maybe author’s like Stephen King and James Patterson are fortunately enough to do that. They have had a lot of practice.
For the rest of us, there are writer’s block, one-star reviews, and the loathsome rewrites. There are any number of things that derail a perfectly good writing session. Writing, like cats, has claws.
Both involve eating
Annabelle and Gracie cry for food even when it is right in front of them. They aren’t hungry, they want attention. Maybe they are bored. Perhaps they are restless. For whatever reason, they want to eat.
Me too. When my writing is going well, words flowing, dialogue witty, I can skip meals without a second thought. But writing isn’t easy, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. It’s hard, demanding, unforgiving. (Good thing I love it!) On those tough days, I can’t keep my butt in the chair and my fingers on the keyboard.
Instead, I head straight for the kitchen. First, I try water, then tea, then I admit what I really want is pizza, or chocolate, or ice cream. Because, like cats, when things aren’t going our way, writers want snacks, not wholesome food. We want a little something to spoil ourselves.
Cats and Books are our Darlings
How many times have you heard your friends call their pet their baby? I know I refer to my kitties that way, more than I should. We lavish them with love and attention, and buy them treats and toys.
Books too are our darlings. The first time I was handed back a manuscript covered in proverbial red ink I wanted to cry. This was my labor of love, my baby and it had been desecrated . Authors grow too close to their work. Although we are eager to publish, in some ways we are reluctant to separate and send our work out into the world.
Suffice it to say, writers are too close to their work and their pets. We find it difficult to be objective about either.
Characters and Cats are our Friends
When I was a child, my sister had an imaginary friend. She talked to him, often inviting him to dinner and sharing her life with him. She knew he wasn’t real, but he was real enough to her.
I have bachelors, billionaires and bossy broads to converse with. They stay with me through dinner. I know these characters are not real, but they are real enough for me. I chat with the cats too. And they invite themselves to dinner, hovering over my plate hoping for a few choice tidbits.
I once told my therapist that I revised a chapter in Bedazzled because my hero told me to. I didn’t anticipate the reaction, it seemed natural to speak with my characters. My psychologist asked “Do you actually hear voices?” alerting me that this statement was in desperate need of clarification.
Authors spend enormous amounts of time with their characters, carving out the details that hopefully make them leap off the page and into your hearts. We know them intimately, and we live for days, weeks or even months putting words in their mouths. We humanize them.
What pet owner doesn’t attribute human traits and emotions to their animals? We worry that we offend them or that we hurt their feelings. We share their fears and we believe them capable of undying love.
You see the correlation, right? Cats and writing, writing and cats.
I believe I have made my case. Cats and writing have the same effect on an author — relentlessly claiming our attention, allowing us to humanize the nonhuman. We grow zealously attached to both, because they offer us a heightened level of satisfaction.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, Annabelle and I are craving pizza.
You might also like:
“Inside the Mind of Cats”, Netflix