Author
Leith, nap cats edition
Ashbless, nap cats edition
Isabelle, you woke me up to take a picture?
Jordan, who can nap with that damn chipmunk in the morning glories?
Nutmeg, Dude, does that camera taste as good as it looks?
(Originally published on the Wyrdsmiths blog August 8 2008, and original comments may be found there. Reposted and reedited as part of the reblogging project)
12 pound kitty in a 9 pound box
Gravity, I defies it. I def…zzzz
What’s wrong? Laptop, right? I puts my lap on top.
Should’ve popped for the bluetooth!
Of course my legs aren’t stuck! What makes you ask? Go away.
(Originally published on the Wyrdsmiths blog August 2 2008, and original comments may be found there. Reposted and reedited as part of the reblogging project)
I’m going to get you for this, you know that, right?
What do you mean I no can haz bedtime story?
What makes you think I did it?
Dear child, surely you don’t think that I of all cats…
What other cats?
(Originally published on the Wyrdsmiths blog July 25 2008, and original comments may be found there. Reposted and reedited as part of the reblogging project)
Mwah-ha-ha!
Hey, I thought I was the ebil geeenius in this house!
Are we plotting to take over the world today? Because I thought it was nap day.
Mmmmmm, naps…
Dude, ebil geeeeniuses are passe. Get with the times.
Wait, that’s not a cat…must be because it’s Saturday.
You think you’re funny don’t you?
Two paws down for lame jokes delivered a day late.
Ouch, that’s going to leave a mark.
Yawn.
Tough audience dude, and these are cats.
They’re going to dance upon your grave for 12 months and a day.
Dreaming of Conducting A Symphony
Still Life With Beer
And Steal Everyone’s Left Shoe
I Was Here First!
(Originally published on the Wyrdsmiths blog July 11 2008, and original comments may be found there. Reposted and reedited as part of the reblogging project)
Ahead warp factor 2.
Engaging.
These shoes would get you there faster than using an ear as a warp throttle.
What the hell, people?
Really, Stargates are much faster anyway.
Ha!
Bonus “working” with cats picture of the beautiful Laura McCullough.
Jordan and Isabelle:
Meglet (Nutmeg really):
Ashbless:
Leith:
(Originally published on the Wyrdsmiths blog July 4 2008, and original comments may be found there. Reposted and reedited as part of the reblogging project)
More Cat Blogging from 2008
I haven’t had time to upload any cat shots so, here are the feline overlords version 1.0. Moonshadow and Spot, both of whom have left this world and both of whom I miss terribly.
(Originally published on the Wyrdsmiths blog June 28 2008, and original comments may be found there. Reposted and reedited as part of the reblogging project)
I write full time at home with five cats who provide me with companionship and imagination insurance. I’ll discuss that in brief after a round of feline introductions. Meet my feline overlords:
‘Belle – don’t hate me because I’m beautiful, hate me because you’re not
Meglet – who is a very small animal
Ashbless – poetry in motion…Limerick
Leith – I’m old dammit, show some respect (RIP: Dec 11 2009)
Jordan – I used to be a cute kitten, now I’m a big thug
So, how is this a writing post?
Well, because pets and writers seem to go together like fire and smoke or some other equally trite pairing. Part of this is of course due to us human types being social apes. We’re wired for group interactions and pets provide people who work in solitude with the illusion of having coworkers, or a pack if you prefer.
That’s a part of it, but not the most important part, at least not for writers. For us they provide imagination insurance. What’s that you ask? Well, pretty much by definition fiction writers are endowed with overactive imaginations.
We are prone to wild flights of fancy, especially those of us who are speculative fiction types. In shadows we see ghouls and imps. Dragons hide in our garages, and trolls demand tolls when we take the laundry to the basement.
This is by and large a wonderful way to live. Except, of course, when it’s not. Like when the house settles with a horrible screech at three a.m. or when the bats start crawling about in the walls just after sundown. At those times, it’s all too easy to people the shadows with things of malign intent.
That’s where the cats come in. With five, there’s always at least one who’s out of sight somewhere. In a house with cats you don’t need to imagine what’s making that noise. You know. Any horrendous sound anywhere in the house, no matter how horrible or loud, was made by a cat. No trolls. No dragons. No axe-wielding maniacs. Just cute fuzzy creatures who can be safely ignored while you finish that paragraph.
(Originally published on SFNovelists, March 11 2008, and original comments may be found there. Reposted and reedited as part of the reblogging project)