You shall receive “Freudian Saturday” tomorrow, as today has been a wicked day, and I must recover by going to see Titanic in 3D.
To slake your thirst for Kristin-content, though, here is a picture of my princessly cat, Portia.
She is a princess on a pedestal. We’ve had that scratching post for three years, and she’s only sat on top of it the one time. (That we know of.)
Tune in tomorrow for my musings on Triangles (and Quadrangles, etc) of Love in urban fantasy.
We don’t always have to reinvent the wheel. Take this cat for instance:
This cat just wants a nice, refreshing drink of water. And he gets it by sticking his whole head in the water and enjoying the droplets running down his face.
Um… you’re doing it wrong, kitty.
New writers (and I can say that now because I was guilty of this when writing my first novel) tend to think the rules don’t necessarily apply to them. They don’t want to take advice because they have a brilliant idea and no one else will know how to execute as well as they do.
But sometimes rules exist for a reason. Basic plot structures (three-act, I’m looking at you) work: that’s why so many people use them. Suggestions like, “Don’t write a ten-POV epic your first time out,” are intended to help you learn, not make a judgment about your ability. People who give advice aren’t out to get us: they’re usually trying to help us.
Instead of getting a drink, writing my first novel, I jumped fully-dressed into the pond. It quenched my thirst, sure, but it also ruined my outfit and the rest of my day.
Don’t be like this kitty—don’t be like me—and try to do a simple task in the most difficult manner possible. Sometimes it’s best to just dip into the stream, not jump headfirst into the deep end.
This time last year, I was working my tail off to finish the first half of The Radiometry Conspiracy. This year, I’m going to take Mucinex cough syrup at regular intervals and enjoy a Ciaran Hinds movie marathon.
In 2011, I finished writing two books, boosted my blog, moved across the country (again), lost a beloved grandmother, and met a lot of wonderful new friends. Sweet and sad both, it’s been a lovely year. I feel okay giving myself the day off this last day of 2011 to recover from a cold.
Instead of a real blog post, I give you a cute cat picture. (I hear they do well on the interwebs.)
This is Portia. She’s about eight pounds and very fluffy, but in spite of appearances, she’s an evil genius and a criminal mastermind. She vomits on the carpet at least twice a week, she bullies our fifteen-pound male cat, and she bosses us around incessantly, but somehow we love and protect her and let her sleep on my pillow. She also spends a large portion of her time meowing in a high-pitched voice and demanding that I throw a plastic milk-jug ring for her to chase.
She’s very distracting.
So if you need some time off today, too, you can gaze at this picture, admire her cuteness, and let her distract you. Enjoy.
See you next year!