Seven things my cats have taught me about writing
That’s one way to get someone’s attention.
If you’ve interacted with me in any way, shape, or form more than once, you’ll know that I have cats. Or they have me. Whichever. Felines have been woven throughout most of my life starting with family cats (Lucky, Lassie, Fred, Sasha) and moving on to my own adoptees (Hedwig, Jake, Aang, and Cloud) as an adult.
Likewise, if you’re a writer—or, let’s be real, anyone who is on a computer at home for any length of time—you’ll know that cats like to be very involved in your efforts. Here are seven things I’ve learned about writing from my cats, largely through no fault of their own.
Perseverance. None of my cats have ever quit when they wanted something badly enough (from me). This includes, but is not limited to: ear scratches right now, my bowl is largely empty, I desire your warmth, etc. Even if I remove the cat from my personal space and set it aside, it is not deterred. The same is true with writing. You’ll experience all manner of roadblocks, and then several people setting your work off to the side. Like a cat, just keep jumping back on the desk.
Make a Space for Yourself. If my cat wishes to sit on my hands, he is not going to politely wait until I stop typing. He is going to sit on my hands and force me to move my keyboard—or something else—until he is able to rest in the space he wishes to occupy. Likewise, very rarely is simply writing the best book you can going to be enough. That’s the first step. Then you have to get it out in front of people, find the space that you want, and see if you can wedge yourself in there. It may not be very comfortable at first, but, hey, growth rarely is.
Rest is Important. Have you ever seen a cat apologize for taking a nap wherever it damn well pleases? No. In fact, try to disturb said cat and observe the look on that little cat face. Writing a book is a lot. Querying a book is a lot. Getting a book published is another layer of a lot. Sometimes you need to just take a Sunday and lay around in your pjs and read something (completely unrelated to your career) or watch a movie. Take the moments when they come and don’t apologize for it.
Sometimes you just need to yowl. Aang is the king of mournful wailing for no discernible reason. He also wails right before he’s about to do something scary, which is adorable. For instance, jumping to a high place he’s never jumped before. While he’s revving himself up, he’ll wail. He does this whether anyone is watching him or not, but when I go in to investigate, it’s hilarious to see that he’s just about to make a leap. Just as often I’ll go check and nothing is wrong. He just yearns. Sometimes you just need to let it all out. For me, the process has been a lot easier since I’ve found a few writer friends that I can yowl at before I take a leap, or just yowl at because things are hard and my heart needs to let the sound out. Find your people and yowl away.
Feedback makes you stronger. Aang and Cloud spar every morning and sometimes more often. Their fights are intense. They battle royale throughout the house, changing levels and fighting inside of things, around things, on top of things—once they started a fight on top of me when we were all cuddled in bed—all over the place. It’s hilarious, but I’ve watched them improve their game over time. Likewise, you need critique partners that you trust to read your work and give you honest feedback. You can’t grow in a vacuum, and classes will only get you so far. And yeah, sometimes the feedback will hurt, but you’ll get used to it and you’ll get better.
Self care. Every cat I’ve ever lived with has taken regular baths and paid attention to their grooming. As tempting as it may be to just write under blankets without emerging for days when you’re on a tear, or hide under blankets without emerging for days when you’ve hit a particularly bad creative low, you should make time to take a shower and perform general hygiene. It will improve your mood and possibly give you a creative boost. (Shower thoughts, anyone?)
Control Z is your friend. (Or CMD + Z if you’re a Mac user). My cats frequently make creative suggestions that I strongly disagree with or may even cause me mild cardiac episodes. And they never approach these suggestions gently or with any kind of consideration. Once Cloud managed to highlight an entire section of the manuscript I was working on and delete it before my brain could even reconcile what my eyes were taking in. Control Z. Nothing is permanent. Keep calm and save often.
If anyone else has additional tidbits that they’ve learned from family members, I’d love to hear them! Happy writing and hug your kittens often. (They like it. Promise.)