August 4th, 2009

lilly

Sleep is for people who don't have cats.

Lilly and Alice have figured out that I'm leaving.

This always happens. I try and try to change the obvious signs of impending departure, packing in different rooms, hiding the suitcases, but let's face it: I went and got myself cats from two of the most intelligent breeds of domestic feline, and they know what it means when the cosmetic bags disappear from the bathroom and Mom starts coming around a lot. They put two and two together, come up with five, and devote themselves to making my life a living hell, because if I'm going to leave them, they're going to make me pay. Last night's method of making me pay involved waking me up every twenty minutes. Lilly does this by licking my eyelids. Alice does this by punching me in the face.

I love my cats.

At midnight, I was too tired to cope with any more feline interference, and got up, locking them out of the room. I went back to bed. At one, I was too tired to cope with any more feline interference, and got up, locking them out of the room. I went back to bed. At one-thirty, I was too tired to cope with any more feline interference, and got up, locking them out of the room. I went back to bed. At two...

...I realized that Alice is now long enough to turn the handle on my bedroom door, and that Lilly has understood handles for at least three years. They are conspiring against me to punish me for leaving them.

I am doomed.
me

Thoughts on Writing #34: Obligations 'R' Us.

Hello, and welcome to the thirty-fourth essay in my currently ongoing series of essays on the crazy little thing we call "writing." All fifty essays are based around my original set of fifty thoughts on writing. The fifty thoughts were written in a single sitting, and thus wander aimlessly through a wide variety of aspects of the writing life. The essays were not written in a single sitting, because I am nowhere near that crazy. Here's our thought for the day:

Thoughts on Writing #34: Obligations 'R' Us.

I tend to enjoy the process of not being hit, but it might help to have a little context to go with that summation:

The only people you owe your work to are your agent, your editor, and your publishing house. Don't let anyone pressure you.

This is one of our simpler thoughts, on the face of things, but once we start digging into it, it rapidly expands in complexity. Don't we, as writers, have an obligation to our readers? More, don't I keep saying that we need to be gracious? Well, what's so gracious about saying "I'm sorry, I don't owe you anything"? It's a difficult line to draw, and it's an even more difficult line to hold, especially now that we're here in the Internet age of instant gratification. So how do we cope with the pressure when we've been praying for that pressure all our lives? Let's discuss obligation, pressure, and why they matter. Ready? Good. Let's begin.

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