Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday. Anty is feeling a little under the weather right now (she does not do summer very well; that is why my blog entry is late today, but she will be fine with a little rest and a lot of water) so I may have more wiggle room for artistic expression here than I usually do. I still have to talk about her writing first, though, so let us get that done first.
Anty’s latest Saturday Discussion post at Buried Under Romance is about delayed gratification, so I thought about putting it at the end of today’s entry instead, but Anty reminded me which one of us can reach the treat shelf in the pantry, so it is in the regular place, which is here, and it looks like this:
This has been an interesting week around here. I am all done with my antibiotics, and, from the way I run when Anty rustles my treat bag, the humans are really sure the site of my butt explosion does not hurt me anymore. I did not need the cone of shame even once during my recuperation. Anty suggested that maybe she could put the cone of shame on a stuffed animal, because I was not going to need it but Uncle did not want her to do that. I have to side with Uncle on this issue. Well, really, on every issue. Uncle is my favorite; everybody knows that. Uncle also got a new people vet (the regular kind, not the emergency kind) this week, and he likes them very much. Anty and Mama did not have to fight very hard to get him into the carrier, and he takes his own pills. I admire his fortitude. That takes courage. Also opposable thumbs, which probably have something to do with said pill taking. Anty does have power to make executive decisions, though, so I am still not sure where the cone of shame is going to end up; as long as it is not on me, I do not really care.
Anyway, it has been an interesting week for Anty’s writing, as well. She has had better production weeks, but that is okay. These things tend to balance out, and, for every day that is less than she would have liked, there is another day where it will go much more quickly. The important thing is to keep moving forward. On both projects, Her Last First Kiss, and the Beach Ball, Anty (and, in the case of the Beach Ball, Anty Melva) has reached milestones. Anty likes milestones. Those are markers of how far she has come, and remind her that she can make it to the next one, because she’s already made it this far. Anty does not normally count words while writing a draft, because that is too distracting, but she does have an outline, and seeing how far she is into the outline makes her happy. Maybe she can find or create some kind of chart so she can track her progress that way. Anty loves organizing things, so I think she might like being able to see at a glance how much progress she is making, her way.
When Anty’s story people hit a milestone, that means that they cannot go back to the way they had been before they hit that milestone, because they are different now, a sort of different that cannot be undone. At the very end, because these are romance novels, that is the biggest milestone; the humans have promised to be with each other forever, and they will never be all alone again. Before that, it is more of a matter of tracking the humans’ changes from who they thought they were (sometimes, who other humans told them they had to be) into who they really were all along.
Anty finds that kind of thing very interesting. A once-upon-a-time friend once said that all of Anty’s stories are about moving on after a loss, and that is true, because they (at least the ones that I have seen) are, and they are also about the humans finding out that they do not have to have somebody else tell them who they are; they can figure that out for themselves. That does not mean that all of Anty’s stories are the same, because they are not. Every human has their own individual challenges along the way, and when it is two unique humans, fighting their own battles, who find each other, well, that it what Anty finds the most interesting of all. Even during the cat days of summer. I know most people call them the dog days, but the only dog I know is Bailey, and he does the same thing I do; lie around and drink water, same as Anty wants to do on hot days. Also work on her stories. Some things never change.
Anty has also rallied enough to want the computer back, so that is about it for this week. Until next time, I remain very truly yours,