Saturday, October 25, 2008

I Can Haz Don McLean?


(to the tune of The Day the Music Died)

It wuz a long, long time ago
When moosic still maded Happy Cat smile
I knowed if I had a chanse
I cud makeded teh hoomans dance
And dey wud be like Happy Cat fer a while.

But teh cold months, tehy maded meh hungry
Wif every election ad hoomans brung meh
Wuz depressing to see dat crap
Not even a mousie in teh trap

Iz not sure whut I ated
But all dat coverage I sure hated
Wif passion burning deep inside
Teh day, teh cheezburger died.

Oh hai. Miss Cheezburger Pie
Kitteh hates Ur TV and
Teh doggie must die.
But teh press is still writing blogs
And until November 5
I no can haz cheezburger pie.

Kitteh no can haz cheezburger pie.

Kitteh red teh Book of Love
And haz faith in Ceiling Cat above
Teh intrawebs tells him so
You believes in all Ur told
Teh president can saves ur soul
And teach to us how to put on showz

All media in luff wif dem
All day talks about her and hims
Dere campgain busses on teh news
All dis talk gifs kitteh teh blues

Nobody has feeded meh
Dey only wants to watch TV.
Iz hiding under UR setee
Until Novemeber 5.

Oh hai. Miss Cheezburger Pie
Kitteh hates Ur TV and
Teh doggie must die.
But teh press is still writing blogs
And until November 5
I no can haz cheezburger pie.

Kitteh no can haz cheezburger pie.

Thin-Q! Hope you enjoyed the LOLZ. FYI: my writerly stuff all goes to A Really Nice Murder now.

Thursday, October 16, 2008

I Can Haz Edgar Allen Poe?

Once upon afternoon, Iz thinkded time to move self soon
An getz off teh couch to look outz door
Butz then I starts to kitteh napping,
if teh dawg wud quit hiz wagging
Every time hiz tail hits teh floor.
I iz annoyed an nuffin more.

mebbe November (iz just cant member) mebbe wuz December.
Or mebbe just dat it waz winter cuz sno outside mah door
I wisheded dat it was Caturday an all gud kittehs cud haz play
Or mebbe mouse or somefin to eat
I needed sum gud kitteh treats
I wished I can haz cheeezburger

I hearded sounds like paper toyz
Dis mebbe prey dat I can scare wif ROAR!
Or other kittehs here to play. Oh joyz!
But sumfing gud waz making noise.
Quick before dere is no moar…
I can has opened door?

Mah hooman can be way too slow.
He only haz two legs u knowz.
So I nipz his ankles an bitez his toez, Den
Faster to teh door he goez but stoopid dawg
He iz in tow and follows hooman to teh door.
Teh dawg must die and nuffin more.

I hatez teh cur so much it makeded all mah fur
Stand on end espushully when teh hooman giveded him frankfurter
Before he finally goez to teh door and opens to see teh stare
Of Basement Cat who standing dere scared dawg under furniture.
Quoth teh kitteh, "Cheezburger."

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

I Can Haz Hamlet?

Oh hai. 2B or not? Iz gud question.
Iz better to put up wif dawg or getz ruhvenge
But endz up wif Basement Cat? Oh noes! Iz dead!
Or maybe iz sleeping and jus duzzent care
If kitteh hungry. Dat not so bad akshully.
Ded or sleeping, perchance dream of mice.
Rub mah belleh. Deres the rub.
I shuffles off teh couch but wunders
If Ceiling Cat or Basement Cat real and waiting.
Iz cat carrier ride to sky and no kitteh returns
To say if vet dere or gud or bad.
Iz thunkeded too much an hurts mah hed.
Iz hungry.
To haz cheezburger or no haz cheezburger?
Dat is better question.


Friday, March 28, 2008

I Can Haz Teh Eagles?

Hotel Kitteh For Ya (sung to tune of Hotel California)

Iz on a desert highway, wif wind on my tail
I smell teh roadside attrakshuns, dey smell like ginger ale
An den ahead I see a shimuring lite
I can haz mah sleepz now?
I haz to stop fer teh nite.

Dere's a hooman in teh doorway
I hearded teh dinnur bell.
An I thinkeded to meself:
Will dez feed me well?

I followz her to dinnur table
An thinkeded I hear sumone say:

Well, iznt dat teh Hotel Kitteh for ya?
Such a lovely space (oh hai. Lovely place)
Hooman haz lovely face.
Dere no cheezburgerz in the Hotel Kitteh for ya.
Some udder time of year,
U could find 'em here.

But mah dinner I misseded, I haz got hunger bendz.
U haz some tasty guests here. Are doez bunnehz Ur frends?
Bunnehz dance in teh courtyard, an I still hazn'et eatin yet
Some bunneh dance to remember, Some bunneh dance to forget

Iz callded to teh waiter
Bring meh ur best wind
He claimz dey haz no spirits since 1969
But still I asks fer cheezzburger. I no eatin all dis day.
My belleh iz all emptee
But I heared teh voices say…

Well, iznt dat teh Hotel Kitteh for ya?
Such a lovely space (oh hai. Lovely place)
Hooman haz lovely face.
Dere no cheezburgerz in the Hotel Kitteh for ya.
Ur bunnehs iz gone? Say dats a surprize.
Good thing I broughted mah alibis.

Why dere mirrors on teh ceiling?
Oh hai. Dey lookz reel nice.
Teh hooman says teh cheezburgers
Was taken by some mice.

But hooman takes me to the kitchen
We haz gathered for the feast
I see teh mouse all running around.
Why nobody kill the beast?

I thinkeded I had enuff so
I runned fer teh door.
I tried to find mah way out
To where I wuz before.

Iz okay, the hooman tellz me
Dere lotz of gud things to reads.
You can cook any time U wantz
But the cheezburgerz U cant eat.

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Like a Bad Penny

I'm baaaaaaaaaaack! Sort of. Where have I been? What have I been doing? I know you're intensely curious. Hah! Anyway, I've been super busy and I hope to have some exciting news soon. Maybe. On the not so exciting front, I've been sick. I haven't had the flu--not just a virus, but true influenza--in years. Well, at the start of this month, my number came up in the Sickness Lottery and when you add the Powerball prize of asthma I've been miserable. The flue turned into a respitory infection and then x-rays to make sure I hadn't developed pneumonia. Blech.

But I'm much better now and just trying to dig out from under everything that piled up while I was snuggled between the covers trying to breath.

But this week, there will be Friday Kittehs.

Oh yes there will.

Thursday, February 28, 2008

Why I Write for Kids

Okay, so the kittehs are all good fun, but it's time I posted about writing again. I enjoy writing for the adult audience, it's freeing to cuss with abandon and let my characters explore their sexuality. But my heart belongs to kids.


I could pretend that it's because I'm a soccer mom. I spend so much time with children, that it's only natural that I write for them. Between soccer, cub scouts and Sunday school, I spend the majority of my time around those under the age of 18 and I like it that way.


I like kids. I care about the things kids care about. Kids have an innate sense of justice. They like to know that they will be okay. They like to feel that no matter how grim things seem, there is hope. The good guys will win. Order will be restored. The guilty will be punished. I'm down for that.


Kids are honest. By the time we reach our upper teens, we become masters at putting on different faces depending on what the world expects us to be. We choose our own labels and slap them on. But kids will tell it like it is.


Kids are uninhibited. Roll in the mud? Where cowboy boots with shorts? Pretend you're a dog and bark all your words for a day? Why not? I'm down for that too. Which I guess brings me to the real reason I write for kids.


Cause I never grew up myself. I'm always up for a good game of pretend. I love silliness and frivolity and candy. I have trouble behaving like a grown up when I'm surrounded by pompous folks who take themselves waaaaaaaaaay too seriously. Honestly, when I'm watching a political debate, I can't stop thinking it would be hilarious if someone made farty noises right in the middle of a speech. I'd love that.

I read children's literature because I like it. I write it, because I read it.

I hope I never grow up. I've managed it thus far.

Friday, February 15, 2008

I Can Haz Limericks?

Dere once wuz a kitteh from Reading
Who had a very strange feeling
Dat whenever he peed
He wuz being seed
By a kitteh up hi in the ceiling.

Dere once wuz a cat from Frankfurter
Who wished dat he can haz cheezburger
But wuz stuck in teh john
Wif nothing to nom
So instead he killeded UR paper

Dere once wuz a devlish sqirl
Who plotteded to take over world
But he not gets so far.
He wuz squished by a car.
B4 hiz grate plan wuz unfurled.

Dere once wuz a kitteh who wrote
Teh lolrus a ransom note
"I not haz UR bukket
But I noes who tukket
An I tells U fer a cheezburgr an Coke"

Dose were fun to write. Now write UR own limerick and post in teh comments. Dis a a play along week. If U not like to Rhyme, U can writes a haiku.

Teh lolrus mourns it.
Hiz bukket iz losted or
Mebbe waz stolen.

Now iz UR turn 4 kittehs.

Friday, February 8, 2008

I Can Haz King David?

Oh hai. Iz a Psalm fer U today. Iz kitteh translashun. Not King Jamez.

Iz beleef in Ceiling Cat- I no wants anything.
He maded me nap in nice plants

Even tho I walks past valley of bad doggies
I fearz no bitez.

He giveded me fishbowl to drink frum.
Mah foodbowl runned over

I haz no fear.
Celing Cat iz wif me.

Hiz claws and lazer vision
Dey comfort me. Let me show U them.

Ceiling Cat maded cheezburgrs for me
Rite in front of bad doggies.

Surely dis goodness will follows me
Fer all mah nine lives
And I will live in house of Ceiling Cat
Wif mah hoomans and mah fwiends.


Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Poor Little Thingymablog

Poor little bloggity has been gettin no love, not from me or from anyone else. What's to love about a blog that never gets updated? Yeah. RL or meatspace or whatever you want to call it has been more enticing. I've actually been writing. Don't get to excited, I'm working on a synopsis and query. I've had more fun. At least when you've had a root canal they give you Novacaine first and people understand why you're drooling.

The enticing part? Two new donkeys.

The bad part: We lost one of our horses.

I had planned on a new kitteh last friday and had diligently worked on a bit guaranteed to roll Edgar Allen Poe over in the grave. Kitteh said, "Nevermore," and the piece was lost in the depths of cyber space. Gack! Not sure if I can recover it, but this friday...

Oh yes, there will be kittehs.

Monday, January 28, 2008

And Books For All

I was moved by Doris Lessing's plea for books in Africa and wondered what I could do about it. Then life caught up with my contemplative moment and moved on. It's wonderful that others were already there, doing what I only thought about momentarily.

Books are indeed scarce in Africa. In 1996, three camels and a handful of visionaries changed all that. I give you, The Camel Book Drive.

Friday, January 25, 2008

Kitteh Can Haz Robert Frost?

Oh hai. Iz Friday and time for kittehs. Dis one is gud. How gud?

Compare fer Urself.

Kitteh even kept teh aaba, bbcb rhyming scheme.

Iz verra nice, I tink.

Stoppin By Couch when TV is Showing

Oh hai, whose nice place is dis
I dunno. Oh wait, I does. He not live here tho.
Sneeky cat iz 2 sneeky. No fear,
He not see meh watchin show.

Mah hooman thinkz Iz weird
I starez at space wif nuttin near
Not even a Cheezburger, fer gudness sake
An Iz hungry at dis time of year.

Mah hooman giveded hiz head a shake
And tries to pick me up. Misstake!
Mah claws com out to cutz him deep.
Iz last time that wrong act he makes.

Teh cushons on the chouch iz deep.
And I haz naptime skedul to keep
Now iz teh time fer kittehs to sleep.
Now iz teh time fer kittehs to sleep.

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Going Half-Azzed

Have I mentioned the latest shiny in my life? No? Just look to the left. Right there. No, he's not one of mine, but his kind has been absorbing a great deal of my time.

Just this is the part where I blog about my ass. His name is Blackjack and he's an adorable, miniature donkey. He's also the foundation sire for Mossy Oaks Miniatures--even though he's only ten months old and doesn't know it yet. Soon, his future harem will arrive. Three prosepective young ladies are being evaluated at this moment.

My hubby and I have become smitten with these little guys and have been taking in Donkey and Mule shows. I love my horses and riding, but my back interferes with this more and more. I also love driving carts and let me just say that having one of these little guys wheel you around is more fun than ought to be legal.

Each donkey has his own bray, and I must be a smitten mommy because I think Blackjack has the most adorable sound. My youngest misunderstands his name and calls him Jack-Jack like the baby in The Incredibles. So Blackjack's registered name will actually be "Nameoforiginalbreeder's Jak-Jak Attack."

Yes, it's a sickness, but I love playing farmer. The only two animal breeding groups I belong to are the American Rabbit Breeders Association and the Southwestern Donkey and Mule Society.

I guess I'm all about the ears.

Friday, January 18, 2008

Rawr--I iz fierce!

Okay, I've been tagged with a new meme called Roar for Powerful Words by Melanie. She gets a nifty award for taggin me and since I loves me some awards, here's what I gotta do.

1. link back to original tagger (done!)

2. list three things that I think are necessary for good and powerful writing. (done!)

3. tag five more people via comment. (to be done.)

Oh goody. Another list.

1. Curiosity: Do I need to explain this? To me, this is truly the key to what makes me a writer. Curiosity is what drives me forward. People always ask creative sorts "where do you get you ideas" and the answer for me is simple. I find them everywhere. Curiosity is the reason I have a bookcase filled with esoteric subjects. You can find everything from ancient Japanese myths to books on tropical fish.
Take for example a children's space fantasy I've been playing with. I don't really need to know everything about our solar system in order to write Planet Hoppers, but the book has sparked my interest and find myself reading endlessly about gaseous giants and orbits and suns and moons. All this reading has given me new ideas and enriched the story.
2. Perseverance: I know of some writers who are taken on by the first or second agent they query and sell their book to the first editor who reads the manuscript. But we all know that this is a rarity. Publication isn't a sprint but a marathon. You can cross the finish line by outlasting your competition. If you give up during the process of learning your craft, you'll never find out how far you can take it. It's easy to say that you shouldn't get disheartened by all the rejection that goes with being a writer, but in reality, this is a bitter pill. You must have some sort of love for writing or it simply isn't worth it.
3. Insight: If I don't have something to say, then why even bother? Writing should illuminate something. You need a new way to tell a story or a fresh perspective or an original character that reveals something about the human condition. We always hear "show don't tell", but writing really is about showing something.
Okay, now I need to tag some folks and I will. I will. I think I'm going to tag Tori, Kristine, Carrie, AJ, and Lori. Play if you want to or ignore if you want to. Now I need to go polish something for the kittehs. I've been working too much to have new kitteh posts and I need to rebuild my Friday kitteh writings. Believe it or not, they take some time and thought to draft.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

I maded you something.

This is my gift, my offering if you will. Today I went to a funeral for someone I always admired. Cheryl fought cancer for five long years, endured over four hundred surgeries, maintained her position as matriarch of her family and kept the other ladies at church in line. I don't think I ever saw her without a smile.

So today I'm celebrating Cheryl and her spirit by letting go. I'm also celebrating breaking my writer's block. And what's a celebration without gifts? So here is my gift for all my friends. I could have sold this story, but I'm giving it away just because I want to. I'm doing this because I can.

I hope you enjoy it.

_story delted_

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Writer's Block and Other Bad Things

We all have our favorite music to write to and mine would have to be Sergei Rachmaninoff. His works have a soaring beauty, underscored with a quiet pain. His pieces are complex, moody and strongly rhythmic, all things I respond to. He suffered from depression and periods of when he was simply non-productive. He started with an early splash, winning a gold medal for composing as a child.

It was his first symphony that nearly did him in. The first performance of Symphony No. 1 was a disaster. The conductor butchered the piece so badly that Rachmaninoff's wife later insisted he was drunk. It was so bad, that Rachmaninoff went and hid in another room. Critics savaged him and made a mockery of his promising career. The piece was never performed again in his lifetime. And he stopped writing music. For three years.

Imagine that. One of the greatest composers of his generation--indeed of all time-- a veritable musical genius. And he just stopped. He plunged into a dark despair. A psychologist finally helped him unlock the chains that bound him and the result was one of his best known and loved compositions, Piano Concerto No. 2.

During this time of blockage, he received some great advice (although little sympathy) from Leo Tolstoy who reportedly told him something to the effect that he should "work every day, young man. Just as I do. It's the only way. Do this or you'll never amount to anything." Not terribly helpful for someone with depression, but good advice for anyone whose craft requires you to work alone.

On another note, I had a parent/teacher conference today at the school. My son is flunking the writing portion of English. His paragraphs are short and thin. Here he should be able to write 250 words on a topic, he only manages 50. Or 30. Or 25. I asked him about this, but he got flustered and said he just couldn't think of anything to say. What if it was wrong? What if he sounded stupid? What if he was just repeating himself? So instead of say something wrong, he said nothing. If you don't try to write, you can't suck at it. I expect that sort of logic from a nine year old, but I'm surprised how often I see that from wannabe writers. They talk a lot about writing and they write a lot about writing and they blog about it and post about it in message boards. Someday they will write that novel. Someday they will finish that book they started three years ago.

Tolstoy (and Uncle Jim and a host of others) have the answer to this paralyzing self doubt. The only way to be a writer is to write. You'll never know that you write crap if you don't actually write it. So what happens to the writer, one who actually does it for years and then just stops? I go through an annual writing stoppage around December and January of each year. For me, it's two parts hectic schedule and one part seasonal depression. I get caught up in the craziness of meat space and family life until I feel myself sliding towards the darkness. So I try to keep the darkness at bay by filling it up with more activities and responsibilities and lots and lots of food. Gradually, I'm jolted out of this bad place and emerge blinking into the light a good ten pounds heavier.
I'm unstuck once again and productive this week. I don't have the answer to getting out of writer's block. I just do it. The good news is that I seem to do this even faster each year. Last year was bad. It took me until March. But here we are in 2008 and I'm writing again in January.
If you came here expecting kittehs, have no fear. They will return. Writing my Friday kittehs was something I could do, even when blocked. This year, I wasn't completely blocked. I thought I was, but the truth is that I edited, beta read for people, wrote the occasional blog post and kittehed great works of fiction. Hey, I just wrote 704 words about not being able to write. And I call that progress.

Friday, January 4, 2008

Kitteh Fairytails

Happy Friday! Here is a kitteh tail for Friday.

Dis story of Goldycat and 3 kittehs Dere a Mama Kitteh, Papa Kitteh, and Babee Kitten. Dey lives together in nice hawz. Wun day, Mama Kitteh maded cheezburger wif gud flavor, but wuz 2 hot. So Kittehs go fer ride on invisible bikes to let it cool off.

In comez bad Goldycat. She sitz in dere beds. She plays wif dere toyz. She eats dere cheezburgers wif good flavor.

Dey comez back and find her. Uh oh. Dis meanz trubble. Dere a big fight. Goldycat triez run away but failz! Oh noes, she is caught. Now whut do? Eat her? Sit on her?

Mama Kitteh haz better idea.

Oh hai. Dat better. Dat story wuz tasty and nootrishus. But wate. Dere is moar.

Oh hai! Iz speshul 2 fer 1 day. I haz won last Catmus Song. Let me sing U it.

U know Wordsmith and Jeanne
U know Carrie, A.J. and Tori!
U know PeeDee and Kristine!
U know Ferret and Lori!
But doez U recall most famus kitteh of all?

Rudy teh lazer kitteh
Had 2 very shiny eyes
And if U evah seen dem
Dey wud makeded U cry
All teh udder kittehs
Wuz afraid to calleded him names
Dey always let scary Rudy
Win dere kitteh games

Den 1 foggy Catmus Eve,
Santy Paws came to say
Rudy wif UR eyes so brite
Won't U guide my slay 2nite?
Now teh udder kittehs still fear him
As Rudy runs teh elf crew
If U has been naughty,Santa Pawz sending him 4 U.
K that wuz fun. But Epiphany iz tomorrow so no more Catmus stuff until December. Hope U enjoy and smileded.

Thursday, January 3, 2008

Great Expectations

I had the best of intentions this week. I would edit, write a couple of blogs for this week, clean my house, yadda yadda. None of this has come to pass. Instead of a fresh burst of New Year energy, I seem to have found inertia. I remember this happening last year. I finally seem to have crawled into motion and begun editing again.

Okay, I've been asked what the verdict was for my NaNo outline. Truthfully, I loved it. I know I'm supposed to find it confining, but I can't help it. I love a good outline.

And I finished the novel. 93K and some change which is perfect for me. Not so long that I can't add to it in rewrites or so short that I'm afraid to whack scenes that just don't do it for me.
I've been editing heavily and it makes me feel like the Godfather. I shamlessly kill my darlings--both characters and scenes--with the cold heart Don Corleone.

I look back to editing my first book and have to laugh at the amount of angst it caused me to delete scenes and lose characters. Now I read a scene, realize it's garbage, and simply hit delete and rewrite it. I don't save endless copies of my book in every revision phase. I just keep my current version (with appropriate back ups).

If the scene works but simply doesn't belong, I might save it in a folder that I call snippets for further use. If it doesn't work or there is no chance I'll ever want it again, I rub it out with savage glee.

Die! Die! Die!

Goodness but I've become ruthless. Good thing I write mysteries.

Tuesday, January 1, 2008

Teh Twelve Kittehs of Catmus

Hope you had a great New Year's Eve! I sure did, even without champagne.

And cause UR all speshul, I maded U something.



On teh first day of Catmus, mah hooman gave to me a Lolzcat in a tree.

On teh secund day of Catmus mah hooman giveded to meh two DONOTWANTS, and a Lolzcat in a tree.

On teh third day of Catmus mah hooman giveded to meh three demon cats, 2 DONOTWANTS, And a Lolzcat in a tree.

On teh fourth day of Catmus mah hooman giveded to meh four comfy beds, 3 demon cats, 2 DONOTWANTS, And a Lolzcat in a tree

On teh fif day of Catmus mah hooman giveded to meh five kittehs of peace, 4 comfy beds, 3 demon cats, 2 DONOTWANTS, And a Lolzcat in a tree

On teh sixth day of Catmus mah hooman giveded to meh six Narnia portals, 5 kittehs of peace, 4 comfy beds, 3 demon cats, 2 DONOTWANTS, And a Lolzcat in a tree

On teh seventh day of Catmus mah hooman giveded to meh seven trojan kittehs, 6 Narnia portals, 5 kittehs of peace, 4 comfy beds, 3 demon cats, 2 DONOTWANTS, And a Lolzcat in a tree

On teh eigth day of Catmus mah hooman giveded to meh eight lolrus buckets, 7 trojan kittehs, 6 Narnia portals, 5 kittehs of peace, 4 comfy beds, 3 demon cats, 2 DONOTWANTS, And a Lolzcat in a tree

On teh nineth day of Catmus mah hooman giveded to meh nine babushka kittehs, 8 lolrus buckets, 7 trojan kittehs, 6 Narnia portals, 5 kittehs of peace, 4 comfy beds, 3 demon cats, 2 DONOTWANTS, And a Lolzcat in a tree

On teh tenth day of Catmus mah hooman giveded to meh ten pimped alpacas, 9 babushka kittehs, 8 lolrus buckets, 7 trojan kittehs, 6 Narnia portals, 5 kittehs of peace, 4 comfy beds, 3 demon cats, 2 DONOTWANTS, And a Lolzcat in a tree

On teh eleventh day of Catmus mah hooman giveded to meh leven kitteh costumes, 10 pimped alpacas, 9 babushka kittehs, 8 lolrus buckets, 7 trojan kittehs, 6 Narnia portals, 5 kittehs of peace, 4 comfy beds, 3 demon cats, 2 DONOTWANTS, And a Lolzcat in a tree

On teh twelf day of Catmus mah hooman giveded to meh twelf cheezburgers, 11 kitteh costumes, 10 pimped alpacas, 9 babushka kittehs, 8 lolrus buckets, 7 trojan kittehs, 6 Narnia portals, 5 kittehs of peace, 4 comfy beds, 3 demon cats, 2 DONOTWANTS, And a Lolzcat in a tree

Oh hai! Bought time I gotted a cheezburger! Happy New Year!