Tag Archives: cats

Cat on a Hot Night

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Sophie doesn’t do well in the heat and is feeling sorry for herself and a bit grumpy. So is the cat. It brings back memories.

black and white photograph of a white wine glass falf full of water

Image by Samuel from Pixabay

Writing this week has been taking place between the hours of 5.30 and 8.00am. After that it is just too damn hot in London. During working hours I find I am either suffering or snoozing involuntarily. The head has actually hit the desk at least once a day.

If I sit down for a refreshing glass of cool, cool water, straight from the fridge, I’m quite likely to fall asleep before I start.

Which, of course, means that I’ve not been sleeping properly during the dark and steamy nights. And oh boy, have they been steamy. My room runs the width of my house so I can have two windows open, allowing a refreshing breeze to flow through. At least theoretically.

No breeze has obliged, so far.

substantial fruit bun, cut in two to with a slice exposed that looks as dry as cardboard.

Image by robwiggly from Pixabay

Result: I get up sleep-deprived and then try to apply myself to writing.

It comes out over-cooked and distinctly stodgy. This does not surprise me. It adds to the accumulated sum of unwellbeing. General grumpiness ensues.

So then I look at the Met Office weather forecast and see that tomorrow will be cooler. Lovely. Except that was what they said yesterday. And it isn’t. At least, It doesn’t feel like it. My thermometer agrees with me.

So does my cat, Perdita. Continue reading →

Body Language in Life and Fiction

Sophie’s thoughts on editing and people-watching, some with more than 2 legs…

Pretty fluffy tabby cat sitting in front of a mat with bowls of foot and water and staring hard at the photographer instead.

“Surely you’re joking?” photo by Jenny Haddon

Recently I’ve been obsessed by body language in life and fiction. It all started because the heroine of my current novel is supposed to be good at reading body language and I started to worry about whether she’d over-sold her talents.

But while I was worrying about issues with my lovely Gabriella’s USP, I had a small personal domestic crisis. It took my body–language–reading capacities into the realm of conflict resolution. Urgently.

The party of the second part was my beautiful, neurotic but, these days, occasionally, purrful cat, Perdita. And her new catfood. Continue reading →

Writers and their cats…

Liz ponders writers and cats:

“In ancient times cats were worshipped as gods; they have not forgotten this.” ~ Terry Pratchett

Cover of Seriously Funny. The Endlessly Quotable Terry PratchettWriting tends to be a solitary business. Many of the authors I know have a dog who will happily sit at their feet while they’re working.

Egyptian cat goddess

Egyptian cat goddess that lives on Liz’s desk

Cats, on the other hand, are unfamiliar with the “sit, stay” command. It’s not that they don’t want to be with you. On the contrary. When they aren’t sleeping, they demand your full attention.

American fantasy author, P C Cast, put it perfectly.

“You know how it is with cats: They don’t really have owners, they have staff.”

“Authors like cats because they are such quiet, loveable, wise creatures, and cats like authors for the same reasons.” ~ Robertson Davies

I like that quote for obvious reasons, but how accurate is it? Continue reading →

The Writer’s Pet: Who is Joanna’s Boon Companion?

Continue reading →

Libertà Christmas Wishes: Not Many Words, For Once

Last year, we gave you Town Mouse and Country Mouse.
This year, we’re doing something vaguely similar.
It’s up to you to decide which Hive member is which in our Christmas card, below.
We know, of course, but we’re not telling 😉

Since it’s Christmas Day, you’ve probably got plenty to do.
So we won’t add many words — mostly festive pictures that we hope you’ll enjoy. Continue reading →

The Writer’s Cat: Writers like Witches like Cats

Writers, like witches, seem to get on with cats. And not just slinky, sexy writers like Colette, of whom you might expect it, but grumpy old war-reportin’, game-fishin’, hard-drinkin’ Hemingway, of whom you certainly wouldn’t.

And me.

I’ve lived with several cats over the years. I can see that it’s not for everyone. But I find it fun. Basically, it takes negotiation.

My present feline companion, TK, arrived with a bad case of nerves and the hump. He hid behind the books in the bookcase, only emerging to throw up. Hid again. When I left the room in search of cleaning materials, he made a dive for some high ground and set up camp, prepared to repel all comers.

writer's cat - kitten on radio

His little face sprouted whiskers roughly comparable to five o’ clock shadow. He looked like a bottle brush. A fierce bottle brush.

Continue reading →