National Cat Day

See all the pretty pink notes? For this revision, I printed out the ms and attacked it with a felt-tipped pen. Now I’ve got to input all the changes. It was helpful, though. It made me slow down and read more carefully, critically. I think it gave me a better sense of the pacing. I’ll be spending the weekend here, in my office, revising instead of rallying while my husband and friends traipse off to the Rally for Sanity.

See my new chair? I love it.

I am not the only one who loves it. Happy National Cat Day! That’s Monkey, my furry muse. He’s 14. He came with my husband, which means he’s been in my life for 10 years. He used to be enormous. Then we moved into a house where he can run up and down stairs all the time like a crazy thing. I find him remarkably handsome, brilliant, and talented (he’s really good at catching treats in his mouth, and he comes when you call his name. If he feels like it). He enjoys napping in sunbeams, on blankets, or on anything you’re trying to read. Also eating paper and watching squirrels and having that spot behind his ears scratched. Really, though, eating is his favorite.

He’s not actually a very good muse, though. I think he hates my laptop for taking up valuable lap space. He would prefer that I pet him, or feed him, or curl up next to him and take a nap. Sometimes I give in to the siren’s call. Sometimes I nobly resist. 

This weekend I must resist. I will probably incur his tiny wrath. See?

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