Eliot, Hemingway, Tolkien, Twain, Yeats, Dickens, Gaiman… one thing I’ve noticed about authors; we all pretty much love cats. What is it about cats that attract authors? Or is it the other way around? Are cats naturally inclined to hang around with authors?
Is it the isolated lifestyle? Cats by nature are independent creatures. Authors, by trade, are alone most of the time. When we’re not surrounded by a dozen characters, all demanding to be the centre of attention in one particular chapter. Wait… is that just me?
Is it the smell of coffee? The warm keyboard? The stacks of books that make for excellent climbing frames?
What I’m basically building up to here is that, after years of not-so-subtle hinting and batted eyelashes and promises of chocolate cake, I’m finally getting a cat. Excuse me while I squee.
This is Luna, my lovely new kitty cat. She’s just had kittens so she’s all tired here, but sadly they’ve all gone on to new homes, so she’s coming home with us in a few weeks time. She’s still at the rescue home at the minute, so we’re busy making up her new home all cat-friendly. She’s going to be spoilt rotten, poor thing.
And I really won’t mind if she takes a liking to my hair and wants to tangle herself in it. It won’t be any weirder than the other things I’ve found in there. (Read: 6 leaves, 3 cherry blossom petals, 4 dandelion seeds, 3 twigs, 1 piece of straw, 2 spiders, 3 flies, 7 bits of fluff, and one fragment of a receipt for a bottle of lemonade. It wasn’t even mine.)
So, that’s my big announcement. I’m getting a cat. Which, according to my Facebook feed, is quite minor compared to the rest of the world, who all seem to be either getting married or having babies. Me? I’m getting a kitty.
In other news, Prince Oberyn died a horrible death by having the Mountain shove his thumbs into his eye sockets. I would have felt very sorry for him, had he not been prancing around his still living body and taunting him. Now that’s just dense.
Maleficent is magnificent. Heh. Lazy-rhyme. I really identified with the story. A beautiful faery queen with fantastic cheekbones who has an affinity with forests and earth magic gets her heart broken by an arrogant prince, then becomes a lot darker in nature and starts wearing a lot of purple and black, becomes close friends with a crow-like man and is associated with wolves– wait…
Were I a vengeful woman, I would wreak havoc upon the world. But I’m not bitter. Mab is a better faery queen. And Erlik is a more arrogant prince. And he’s a REAL prince, thank you very much. Not some peasant upstart.
Why yes, I am in complete control of the keyboard and I am in no way influenced by aforementioned prince nor the very large sword he happens to have upon his person.
(Send help. Quickly.)