Imagine you, sitting at your computer, slaving away at your novel, clickity-clickity, hen-pecking those seemingly mandatory one million words in before you can call yourself a true novelist superstar. Eventually you tire, naturally, and your brain ceases to form ideas, your eyes blur, your fingers cramp. Burn out and fatigue sets in.

What ever in the world do you do?

You gently, quietly, remove your Taskmaster Kitten from atop your mouse and bring up a little entertainment. Yes, Mahjongg will work well. Superb! Shortly, everybody will be happy!

But stray too long from your task at hand and your Taskmaster Kitten comes to the rescue. Using highly specialized technology, Taskmaster Kitten awakens, senses your IQ level draining, and turns into a raving, howling maniac, paw poised over the keyboard escape button, threatening to shut it all down. Don’t let this tragedy happen to you. Order your Taskmaster Kitten today and see your productivity soar!

I probably shouldn’t have been playing Mahjongg anyway.

There were a lot of tears and confusion in this class. One or two sessions almost had me believing we had signed up to be Marines. There was more than just a bit of breaking one down before building one back up. Last night’s class teetered on the breaking down aspect more than I thought it should. With three weeks left, shouldn’t we be over that part by now?

What I’ve learned: It’s easier, albeit just a little, to find and pick apart story elements. This is something I have struggled with. What one person called the transition from Act 1 to Act 2, another would call the story midpoint. What was said to be the Fun and Games aspect could also be labeled as when The Bad Guys Close In. Bad Guys Close In could be interpreted as The Dark Night of the Soul.

It was enough to make my head feel as if it would explode from lack of understanding. For a good number of years, I thought I was the only confused idiot in this writer’s world, so you might imagine at what level my self-esteem has hovered around.

I’ve learned letting go is a skill that needs constant work and care and yes, sometimes it needs to be forced. Forced letting go. There’s some confusion for you. Yet, it does make sense if you think about it, just don’t think too hard. Do not add alcohol.

I relearned you can’t edit a blank page. Duh. Get some words, any words, on the page first.

You can’t learn motivation. You can catch it however.

I learned that lots of people can come up with novel ideas using the seemingly easy three elements game – A person, a situation, a conflict. But those don’t always make for good novel ideas unless one is able to think outside the box. Otherwise, the idea has probably already been done, hundreds of times and is therefore, boring.

But if you really believe in your boring idea, go for it. Hollywood likes boring ideas. Either they won’t buy your story or they will and then, will promptly rewrite it to convey messaging aspects of producer/director pet peeves. What have you got to lose?

The class was a great study in human behavior. I’ve always enjoyed watching people, wondered what and why they do what they do. For as long as I can remember, I mentally made up character profiles of people I didn’t know but who had publicly exhibited a quirk or two. There was more than enough material to work with in class.

I’m looking forward to summer session, and to see who will be back. My brain, while really, really full at the moment with class and writing and thinking and M.S. related male self catheterization hygiene practices (TMI) and kittens, needs stuff like this.

May I present our found kitten pics, because everyone knows if no pics are uploaded, kittens don’t exist. The real question is, if no cat pics/videos were uploaded, would there still be an Internet?

Little Kitten Lost & Found. May 11, 2012.

Kitten Found. May 11, 2012.

Kitten Found - May 11. 2012.

Technically, our place is already kitten-proof, particularly since adopting 1 year old Newton in early April. Not much work was necessary. We’ve had pets of all ages all our lives and are well versed in the routine.

There’s this saying. You know it: When it rains, it pours.

So, naturally, when a couple of young girls rang our doorbell last Friday at dusk with a squirming grey and white kitten in their arms and asked if we could help care for it, we said absolutely before they could complete their long-winded, teary-eyed plea.

As the story goes, kitten was found crying at a neighbor’s door. No one knows where it came from. Girls’ mothers wouldn’t let either keep it. Someone recommended us (o rly?).
We did what we always do – kept it isolated in our closed off bedroom with everything a new addition could ever want, except feline companionship. Flea-combing, observance, and disease testing always, always, comes first.

For a “lost” kitten, it had one flea total and no flea dirt. Its white paws were soft and clean, not dirty or rough like an outside-dwelling kitten would have. Nor was it thin or dehydrated in the least, that being a sunny, near 90-degree Fahrenheit day. Hmm, this kitten couldn’t have been lost for very long.

Early Saturday morning, kitten found posters including our number were plastered in the neighborhood. We made up the posters; the girls distributed them. A check a couple of hours later, I discovered the flyers weren’t really distributed very well and seemed centralized in one area. I printed out 20 more and spread them out.

Sunday afternoon, the neighbor whose door the kitten was crying at mentioned to us they had heard one of the girls may have liberated the kitten from an ex-friend who wasn’t terribly thrilled with the kitten’s sharp pointy parts. Sunday evening, the actual existence of the ex-friend came into play. No one knows of any young/teen named [something withheld] who lives in the area missing a kitten.

Monday, I canvassed the area neighborhoods looking for lost kitten/cat flyers. Nothing. We searched Craigslist, Facebook, and our local city newspaper – both online and actual. Nothing. We reported the kitten at the humane society. They took the information and told us if we hadn’t heard anything in a couple of weeks, we ought to keep it and license it.

Okay.

Tuesday, at our expense because when we can afford such things, we just do, we took the kitten to our vet, whom we been in love with for 23 years, and had it tested for all those nasty things pets can be exposed to. This morning, Wednesday, we picked it up, confirmed as a female, with a clean bill of health and a first round of shots. She’s 9 weeks old, very healthy for being “lost,” and was very happy to see us. The bonding had already begun. I could have told everyone that. She shares The Man’s pillow every night. He’s in love with her.

Through all this, we still haven’t received a single call about her.

One of the young girls, the one we consider most likely innocent and naïve about a rumored “kitten liberation,” has stopped by twice to visit the kitten. She’d like us to wait until the end of the month before we pull the neighborhood flyers and officially adopt it.

I’m not saying she gets to call the shots here. I’m working on steering the conversations toward a faster acceptance that we’re not going to give the kitten back. I’m prepared to fight to keep it. And if all goes well, in three weeks another kitten joins the family. Two kittens at once, to grow up together. How sweet is that going to be?

Now that that’s out of my system, onward.

My car officially turned ten years old yesterday. Still sitting, covered, in the garage. Not a care was given. Onward more so.

Writing class last evening for the remaining students (three of us remain) devolved into reasoning of dragged feet and de-motivation. I’m the only one regularly turning in full homework assignments. Four weeks left (three if you discount Memorial Day weekend when it’s anyone’s guess at to who’s going to show up) before a short break and my summer session begins. Have I learned anything thus far? Somewhat, with a hesitant yes.

I figured the subject matter would block my writing today, similarly to what happens with any mental drama, but no. I’m up, feeling good, and my brain-meat is working. All that’s left is making a few character/plot connections and the WIP will once more, skip along merrily.