Anna Carrasco Bowling's Blog, page 18

Typing With Wet Paws: Early December Edition

Tails up, Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. Shockingly, the Christmas tree is still not up around here, though Mama Anna assures me it will be soon. It’s been a pretty decent week over here. All the humans are working, including Mama Anna. Most of her work is either at the glowy box, going tappity tappity on the keys, or (my favorite) lying on the bed on her side, writing on paper with a pen. I like that best because then I can lay out with her and carry out my mews duty, Of course I can also do this with the box (aka my house) next to her desk, but the bed is comfier. Either way, I have a good chance of scritches, so I win either way.

me, hard at work

The big thing this week is that I had to work super hard on Sunday morning. One thing to note: Aunt Linda is usually up and out of the house before six in the morning. This day, though, it was seven, and she was still there. Obviously, an emergency, of course. I tried my best to wake Mama Anna, but she was having none of it (or very little) but was not deterred. This was an emergency. Potential Dead Aunt Alert.

I did what any family-oriented kitty would do. Papa was right there, and if I couldn’t wake her, maybe I could wake him. I balanced on Mama Anna’s shoulder and bapped Papa in the face, three whole times. No claws, I should add. I am not a monster Still, no reaction. Fiiiiiine. I tried again with Mama Anna again and then I finally got her to come check. She said nothing was wrong; it was just Sunday. Aunt Linda didn’t have to go to work, so she didn’t have to get up early. Eh, fair enough, I guess.

Anyway, if you’re here, you have a higher chance than usual of wanting to know about Aunt Anna’s writing work. (Either that or you appreciate a quality calico. Possibly both.) She kind of just reaches down to pet me without looking, maybe grunts, and keeps writing. Apparently, this is good? She says the Kanban board is still working, She will probably get some super sticky sticky notes, because I have been eyeing the notes that are tuck on there already, aka my future toys when they fall, as they inevitably will. It might even count as Christmas ornament practice.

On Mama Anna’s reading front, which is also another opportunity for me to get cuddles, she is closing on on her goal. Though she is three books behind schedule, with 79 books read out of 90, the audiobook industry should get her back up to speed. I prefer when she uses audiobooks, because that means she can pet me with both hands instead of just one.

Headbonks!

Storm

Home Stretch of the Year

Well, it’s December. For any of us, it’s the holiday season. For many of us writers, it’s time to take a breath after NaNo and then get down to editing. I did not NaNo this year, but I did make a Kanban Board, and that’s actually proving to be more helpful than I thought. With things out there when I can see them, it’s easier to stay on track. It’s a good feeling. For those who have been reading this blog for a while, you’re familiar with the roller coaster of the last couple of years. Things are evening out, and I am feeling more like myself. Which means writing. Which is nice.

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Where December comes in is that I am coming to the end of my current planners, and that means looking at next year. Which is…interesting. While I’d been hot and cold with morning journaling, using an outdated/redated horizontal planner for that, a few lines before I try to write anything close to morning pages , has worked out surprisingly well. In short, thrash about until something works, then stick with it. At the end of the month, I can either archive the pages I have now, and put new pages in the current setup, or archive as is and stick Dec-Sept pages into new discs and cover I’ll figure it out when it’s time.

Though the Kanban Board is much much much newer, as in last week, there was an immediate “ding” in my mind. I am even thinking about using the back for a specific project, or starting another board, or maybe dial back on the manipulatives and remember I have Scapple, which can totally work like a digital Kanban. Though the in-person variety does mean I get to use my Post-its and once they are used, I can get more.

All of it, though, means nothing without the actual story, without the actual hard work, the putting of butt on chair and fingers to keyboard, even after I have put pen to paper, because Mark Twain was probably the last writer to get away with handing in handwritten pages. Which isn’t always the fun part, or the interesting part, but it is the part that can’t be separated from anything else. Otherwise, t’s only having a fine time with stationery. Which isn’t a bad thing. Stationery is a fun hobby. It’s also writing adjacent. I have this pen, I have this paper. My as well do something with it.

So, where is this post going? I’m not sure. I have blog post on the schedule and I want to cross it off, so that’s why we are here. Also, my family is currently on their way home, and I want to get in some plotting work today. Much easier to do when it’s kitty and me than the entire company. With the end of the year only one month’s inserts away, I want to knuckle down and put the focus on the fiction. Part of that is going to a two entry a week schedule instead of my usual three. One from me, and one from Storm, ideally, but we will see.

How’s your week going?

Typing With Wet Paws: Black, White and Orange Friday Edition

Tails up, Storm Troopers! This is going to be a quicker than usual entry, because A) It is Black, White and Orange Friday, meaning Mama Anna and Aunt Linda are going to make out like locusts at the craft stores, and B) Mama Anna started yesterday out by slicing her middle finger in a freak bathing accident. She is okay, but it also means using that finger isn’t the most fun thing she can do. Apparently, it is an important finger in typing. I’m glad I have paws and my grooming routines do not require any sharp things. I wake up like this every day.

several times a day, in fact.

Not sure what came over me with that whole wanting a boy cat thing. Papa is the only boy I love. No boys, just toys. Preferably with catnip.

Pretty chill day yesterday, except for the whole finger slicing thing. Everybody was tired, so they took lots of naps and then ordered pizza. Then more naps. Nap, food, nap…were they practicing being cats? Because they did a pretty good job. There may be hope for them yet. Also, it was cold. We were fine, thiugh. They have blankets and sweaters and I have fur. Also radiators.

Anyway, the humans are very thankful for all of the above. Except for the finger slicing. I am thankful that I have had TWO great mamas in my life. My first mama, Mama D, did a super amazing job of getting me through the awkward kitten stage and making sure I am happy and healthy and scarily well adjusted. Even more than the humans, TBH. She can still see me on social media, so she knows I am okay.

Since it is now shopping season, I have told the humans that I want a red dot for Christmas. i think “laser pointer” is how to say it in human? If you know where they have good ones that are kitty safe, put it in the comments and I will give my humans a gentle reminder.

Headbonks!

Pre-Thanksgiving Rambles

This morning, for my weekly chat with bud Mary, I turned my folding desk around, so that my back was not to an off-white wall, but the rustic bookcase festooned with white fairy lights. Note to self: get more fairy lights. I had every intention of writing a “real” blog post (what is a real blog post, anyway?) but then after an extremely good chat that ended with online ornament shopping and discussion of the big epic novels/miniseries of the 1970s, aka high drama, it hit me that we are on Thanksgiving Eve, which means it’s basically a holiay, and I do need to set up my Christmas planner, because the day after Thanksgiving, is Black Friday, and it’s go, go, GO into Holiday Mode.

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We do have our tree to put up. This year, beyond the basic colored balls, we have a gorgeous Tudor rose ornament from Mary, and that means it is high time to have some more personalized ornaments on the tree. Cats, writing instruments, that sort of stuff. Can’t go into that unprepared and still face myself in the morning. Which will be Thanksgiving morning.

This year, we are going with a theme of “we tired,” and will be ordering in or getting takeout like the city dwellers we are. Pajamas all day if possible, relaxing, getting current on streaming backlog, reading, and hitting the ground running for full on holiday mode. I will be armed with lists, more lists, and lists of lists. No, I am not kidding on that one. I can take organization to meticulous levels when I have a mind to, and when I am all hopped up on visions of sugarplums and all that other good stuff, well, think of the logical outcome. All of that means that putting thought into a “real” post is not on my agenda.

One of the things I am list-ing is a somewhat loose TBR for the coming year, though I may not wait that long to get started. It all depends on what the library has in store. When I fell down the rabbit hole of V. C. Andrews analysis videos, I glommed hard on to the high drama factor, and what captures high drama than those big 70s epics I mentioned earlier? I was a bit young for those the first time around, but getting a taste for them now, so sprinkling them through the coming year might be something to add to my plans for 2022. Reading high drama fuels writing high drama and I do love my high drama. I know, big surprise on that one.

Anyway, the lure of a pillow fort and hand-knit afghan is calling, with a Kindle full of books, and a paperback Christmas historical romance anthology right there on the nightstand. I have a cuddly kitty and a plentiful tea supply. Also, my brain wants, very very strongly, to go back into fiction mode, and that pillow fort would put me verrrry near a lot of my pens. If you’ve been here longer than five minutes, you know all about me and pens. (Did I mention that I have started to see holiday pen gift sets popping up in stores? Have to say PaperMate is stepping it up this year.

What’s on tap for your holiday?)

Plot Bunnies in the Attic

First of all, Storm is on heat lockdown (we do plan on getting her spayed) and thus was not allowed to use the computer unsupervised. She kept attempting to log onto Cat Tinder, and we could not have that. Seriously. I found her profile picture.

single black, white, and orange female….

Beyond that, things are going pretty well over here. I was a bit under the weather over the weekend, but feeling much better now, and excited over the holiday season proper being right around the corner. For those of us who are stationery aficionados, that means new planner season is coming. For those of us who write fiction, it’s time to look ahead at the coming writing year. For those of us who are both, that means time to work on a writing planner.

One of those sections is creating a “stuck list,” aka books, movies, TV, other media that usually gets my idea hamster on the wheel and running like they think they are Wilma Rudolph or Usain Bolt.

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For me, the book section includes romance and non-romance books. One of the non-romances, that I come back to time and again, is Flowers in the Attic by V.C. Andrews. As a romance writer, that does give me a moment of pause. Trigger warning: incest, child abuse.

Dollenganger #1

Though there is an intimate relationship between teen protagonists Cathy and Chris, who are full siblings, under extremely extenuating circumstances, this isn’t a romance. It’s a tragedy. I’ve classified it as horror, of the psychological sort, and it is that, but as I wandered down my most recent FITA rabbit hole (it happens every once in a while) I found myself thinking, as I usually do when I revisit good ol’ Foxworth Hall (sarcasm mode on for that house name) “how would this work as a historical romance?”

Not, I should note, that I would ever want to have a hero and heroine who are full, half, step, foster, etc siblings. Not my thing. The big old house with centuries of heritage behind it, though? Oh yes. The family secrets? Yep. The family dysfunction? Well, of course. The creepy-deepy atmosphere? Um, have you met me? You know this is all Anna-nip when it comes to inspiration. I do have to admit that I had some degree of shock when I saw the Lifetime TV movie adaptation of the first book (there are five in all, number five being a prequel; when I reread, I read FITA, then the prequel, then FITA again, as the prequel is the origin story of the villainess) and very seldom pay any attention to the books in between. That’s just me, though.

My other listening obsession is podcasts on romance writing/reading, of which there are delightfully a lot. Though I don’t recall the specific episode where I heard author Sarah MacLean say that she also always thinks “how would this work as a historical romance?” my brain did catch on that. Fellow author Corinna Lawson once told me, after I’d given one of my very first workshops on what is now Play in Your Own Sandbox, Keep All the Toys, that I tend to “take fantasy inspiration and file off all the fantasy.” She’s not wrong, as I first got my start writing Star Trek: The Next Generation fanfic that read like historical romance with blinky things. I think the same thing might well apply to horror.

I did mention above that I have always classed FITA into horror, and with the discovery of some analyses of the Andrews books (only the actual V. C Andrews, thanks. Not the ghostwriter.) that it also fits into gothic drama, and since most of her stories take place in the south, Southern Gothic elements abound. I love that stuff. I gobble the classic gothic romances of the late sixties/early seventies when I can find them, and some authors who are on my top tier historical romance list, like Valerie Sherwood and Aola Vandergriff, also wrote in this gothic genre. Hmmmm. Hmmm. Hmmmmm.

Romance, though, particularly historical (the tone of my contemporaries with Melva Michaelian are decidedly different and equally natural) with HEAs and dating outside of the family line. Right now, I am at the phase of noting things on my stuck list and leaving them to marinate, to ponder in days to come. Maybe this will come in handy when I revise Orphans in the Storm, which may be on tap for 2022. Maybe not, but it’s always fun to examine something that gets the idea hamster on the move, and that’s a worthwhile end in its own right.

What surprising items might you put on your stuck list?

A Good Writing Day

Today is a good writing day. I don’t have an idea for this blog post, but I do have workers in the apartment across the hall banging on things, a sleeping kitty, and about one hour before the rest of the family comes home and settles in for the evening. Thankfully, it’s Real Life Romance Hero who is cooking tonight, but I do have to take out the trash. Which is fine. Not doing it right now because Storm doesn’t like it much when she is left alone-alone, which means that if we are indeed planning on visiting friends out of state any time in the tucked away week between Christmas and New Year’s, we will need to start harness training her so she can come too.

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Storm is a natural traveler, which worked well in our favor when we had our vagabond year, and for future adventures (by choice!) yet to come. She’s also an excellent office companion. I am her hooman and she is my purr-sonal assistant. If I spend too long in Housemate’s room or the kitchen, she will come in and yell at me until I follow her back into the master bedroom, which is also my and RLRH’s shared office.

Se have learned, to our astonishment, that we share an office extremely well. My pro tip: headphones. The over ear kind. For both parties. Also, don’t face each other. If we face each other, we will indeed enjoy the view, but we will also talk to each other and get very little work done. We usually leave the door open, as A) Housemate is a strong introvert, and as long as she has her book and/or tablet, she will be well occupied, and B0 we both need easy access to bathroom and kitchen. Most importantly to cat food, because cat.

Anyway, this is my roundabout way of saying it’s been a good week so far. Okay, apart from when I thought my Monday night scene deadline and chat with Melva was on Wednesday, but I managed to turn that around, and hey, free evening. This could mean Sims, Netflix, or reading, either electronic or the old fashioned kind. I haven’t decided yet. I might also, as RLRH says, fall asleep next to a good book (highly likely.)

there is always a chance that I will bring some sort of journal with me to the comforts of bed, and then capture the mind meanderings that only come in the twilight hours of a rainy grey day spent with one’s imaginary friends from multiple centuries. I have been doing a lot of journaling as of late, which is proving to be a pretty useful tool. There is also the fact that as we get into the middle of November, that means January creeps ever closer, meaning that it’s time to get the 2022 planner and notebook lineup finalized. I have my eighteen month classic and mini Happy Planners, buuut somehow acquired (October birthdays’ll do it for you) a second classic and second mini planners, which might end up being writing planners but it’s early days yet.

The weekly chats with friends, online but face to face (yay, video) are also huge helps. There are times when I need to blabber at someone and then find the answer to my own questions in the blabbering. Not much at all to say on the whole matter, but to say that writing is, for the first time in a while, writing feels pretty good. Smaller goals, more easily reached. That’s important, too, leaving room for just one more sentence, paragraph, page, ect. I am rather fond of that. How is your week going?

Typing With Wet Paws: The Gravitational Pull of Afghans Edition

Tails up, Storm Troopers! It’s a rainy day here in Albany, the leaves are falling in tons of colors, Papa is currently taking a nap under a hand knitted (by Aunt Linda) afghan, and Mama Anna is having a good writing week. She and Papa had delivery for lunch, which I did not touch because I am a kitty and kitties eat kitty food, not people food. That’s an important distinction, and Mama D taught me that early on when I was still a baby kitten.

Anyway, this is the kind of autumn day Mama Anna loves best. Later in the day, she and Aunt Linda will go hunting for groceries, including cat food, but after I am done with this post, she needs the keyboard so that she can write.

The current working setup; photo by Mama Anna

Last night, she had her weekly meeting online with a local writer friend, which is one day after her weekly talk with Aunt Mary, so she does tend to get charged during the latter half of the week, because talking. She is also drinking a lot of tea. These are good signs. On Wednesday, she walked all around the lake in the park when she went to take out the trash. I did not authorize that trip, and complained to Aunt Linda until Mama Anna got back. Oh, and I ran to the computer when I saw Mama Anna was talking to Aunt Mary. They both liked that a lot. I do aim to please.

Right now, the gravitational pull of the pillows, afghan, real paper book and freshly brewed cinnamon tea is very strong. Add in me and Papa also on the bed, not to mention Mama Anna’s catchall notebook and pens, so she can even do some writing there. This sounds like good napping time for me.

photo by Mama Anna

Papa wanted to get a good picture of me in Mama Anna’s desk chair, facing the computer, but I was at such a position he couldn’t get a good angle. He will, later, though, so a greatest hits picture for now. Mama Anna says he and I need a photoshoot, so she can have a reserve of pictures. That’s not a bad idea. I am rather gorgeous.

Speaking of gorgeous, there are a lot of gorgeous covers in the books Mama Anna has been reading this year. She is currently back on track with 77 books read out of 90, and she is reading a few at the same time, pretty much. Getting back into it. This kind of day is conducive to reading, so again, strong draw towards the reading nest.

Yesterday was a really good writing day, even working on Her Last First Kiss, and it didn’t feel forced. That is a very good sign. I have to believe my emotional suport goes a long way toward that, as well as Mama Anna increasing the amount of blabbering to other people that she has been doing. Snuggling with me and a book couldn’t hurt, though.

Headbonks!

Storm

Off-Center, Now With Fairy Lights

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Yesterday was an organization and planning day. Normally, I like to do this while it’s the weekend, preferably Sunday, but that didn’t work out, so yesterday is good enough.sk moved somewhat on its own to its current position off-center of where it used to be, now bumping against the corner of my rustic crate bookcase. It’s a lot better to have a bookcase to look at while I work , rather than a blank wall (why did I ever think that was a good idea?) The white Chirstmas lights, aka fairy lights, though, those are intentional.

I’m not sure what it is about white fairy lights, but I love them. For Christmas trees, I like colored lights, either blinking or chasing, but white lights have a certain classy factor to them, and combined with the rustic wood of the bookcase, I am definitely feeling this. Also might end up putting some of the books from my post-birthday haul there, so I can get a glimpse of where I’d like to see my name in the very near future. Or present, for a copy of Chasing Prince Charming. Because I do that, too.

See? My name. Also Melva’s.

I had snapped a shot of the current setup with the lights and all, but Amazon Photos is not cooperating, so here is Michael, one of my current Sims, who was on the screen when I took the photo

picture taken ingame, lots of ccfd, ReShade, etc

We’ll work on that later. The above screenshot is from my current Sims save, one where I wiped allll the premades and their houses, replaced with my own and painstakingly built my own world. Yes, that sounds a lot like writing. But with visuals. Plus I have to have my Sims living in houses built from real floorplans Yes, always. Except for apartments, which I can’t change, which is annoying, but fine.

I have been doing intense searches for custom content, checking decorating trends past and present, relying on color theory as only an artist’s kid can, and it has now spilled over into my actual life. Which is actually kind of fun, and conducive to writing with more comfort.

When I decorate a Sim’s environment, it matters what I choose for their “clutter” or decor, because it’s part of their story. As mine is part of mine. I do want to do an un-bagging of my birthday haul, so when I do that, I will have to do some rearranging of the bookshelves, which do not currently have actual books on them, as mine have been in storage. Probably rearrange the lights as well, and more than likely add to them, because I have met me, and those things are in stores everywhere. Also they are probably good for Real Life Romance Hero’s craving for more light in these dark months. (I, on the other hand, loooove the early nights. They are the best and fill me with joy.) More pictures coming then, which will give me more to talk aobut than mindless blabbering, but some of you are into that kind of thing, so this is your lucky day.

As it is mine, as now that I have a blog post down, I can go play Sims.

How’s your week going?

NaNot, Mislaid Plan(ners) and Other Stories

Once again, I am not doing National Novel Writing Month, though I am peeking through the cracks in the fence. Maybe next year? Maybe so. If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you’ll know the last couple years have been quite the trip. Several of them, as a matter of fact, so that staying home now is actually kind of exciting, because I have a home to stay in, which I figured would have some sort of effect on my productivity.

If we are talking about blogging, I am doing okay. If we are talking about journaling, I am absolutely crushing it. We’ll talk more about that later. If we’re talking about writing romance fiction, that’s where it gets a little murkerier, and yes, I did put that distancing phrase in there on purpose. Melva and I completed one contemporary romance novel, which we now need to do some surgery upon before we can give it another shot with our current publisher. That’s not a bad thing. We are currently working on another one, and starting a new contemporary series after that. We are working our way to a new sort of schedule as both of us have had changes in our day to day routines, but we are getting into the swing of it, and it’s good.

only the tip of my big bag of books iceberg

For historical romance, that’s where I feel the most guilty, meaning that I’m not where I thought I was going to be at this point. I mean, it’s in sight, and I am getting my way back there. I am now in a two person critique group with a local writer friend, who is newer to the game. We write different subgenres, but both under the romance or romantic elements umbrella. I do read the genre that she writes in, though she is new to historical romance, and I am very interested to see what I can learn about historical romance from seeing it through fresh eyes. So it’s steps in the right direction. Historical romance is also a very common topic on my weekly three hour chats with my friend, Mary, who gifted me a huge bag of classic historicals on her recent visit. I also owe a letter to another writer friend, which is all moving in the direction of getting back to talking about my work, which, for me, is definitely a thing. #extrovertlife

The writing planner I had set up for the last six months of this year is sitting in its cover, glaring at me. Not to say that the planner isn’t working. What it means is that that method is not working for me, and I need to find the one that does. Which means trial and error and blabbering about it here, because, metaphorically, I have a microphone and you all have to listen to everything I say. (The Wedding Singer is a work of genius; fight me.) In short, all part of the process. As we near the end of the year, the planner possibilities are endless, and I will find the right one at the right time. For now, it’s going to be more a matter of blundering into the forest with oven mitts on my hands, and recording what actually worked for me. That tends to be how I work. Stumble my way halfway in, survey, and make a plan. I am bound and determined that A Heart Most Errant is not going to have a birthday of sitting in my documents file, edits unaddressed. Nope, nope, nope. February is not that far away, which means I need to get on it.

How does yoeur week look?

Typing With Wet Paws: Nipped Edition

Storm’s up, Tail Troopers. Wait. That’s not right. It sounds kind of right. Close to right? Almost right. Right words, wrong order, yeah? Ever since Aunt Mary and Uncle Brian brought me some special mousies, things sometimes get kind of…wavy. Not that I mind. I mean, look at my paw.

Did you know I have switchblade fingers? Well, I do.

Have you ever really looked at a paw? Paws are amazing. I can put my claws in, put them out, pull them in again. Any. Time. I. Want. How great is that? Also, I have four of them. Plus one tail. No switchblades in my tail, though, but it goes up when I am happy. New toys always make me happy. Especially when they are special toys, if you know what I mean. I mean catnip. I love that stuff.

All the humans did fun things on the weekend, like having dinner where Papa works. While he was working, even, so they got to see him do his job. He is super duper good at it, but a lot of people know that already, like Mama Anna. Nice to have it confirmed, though. There was the time when the chef accidentally tried to kill Mama Anna, though. I say accidentally, because they probably did not know that Mama Anna is allergic to mushrooms, and there were mushrooms in the soup when it didn’t say that on the menu. She is okay, though. She had the soup put in a to go container, ate other food, and took it home for Papa.

Keeping Mama Anna’s seat warm.

I, purr-sonally, did not get to go to Aunt Mary and Uncle Brian’s hotel, which I am told was very nice, with a big couch, so there was room for me, and pets were allowed, so I hung with my special mousies that evening. The humans did all agree, though, that the next visit has to be soon, and at Aunt Mary and Uncle Brian’s house, and that I have to come along, because separation anxiety. This means that A) I will get two car rides (there and back) and B) Mama Anna will need to harness train me, so that when I get out of my adventure cave after the car ride, she can keep eyes on me at all times in a new environment.. I should probably also mention that While Aunt Mary and Uncle Brian have my Cousin Andy (who is a young grownup, and will be getting married to my Cousin-to-Be Leah, and moving to his own house next year; dibs on his room when we visit after that) but also my Cousin Aiden, who is a Golden Retriever. That is a kind of dog, who will not be getting married and thus will stay licing in that house. I am not sure if he knows a lot of cats (probably not) so only one of us will be free range at any given time, and I will be on the lead when it’s me.

In related news, Cousin Andy asked Aunt Anna if she would be a character reference for an important job he wants to do, and she said yes. That means that she had to talk to an important person on the phone and answer questions about whether she thinks Cousin Andy is a good human (spoiler alert: he is) and can do important job (Spoiler alert: he can.) She said yes and yes, so that is on the record now. She of course countered this very adult responsibility by playing video games, so the balance is restored.

Also restored is her love of reading historical romance, since Aunt Mary did in fact give her a honking big bag of classic historical romances (she will talk about that on Buried Under Romance, later.) Some of those were books she had once owned and wanted to get again (score!) while others were books she had always wanted to read, but never got the chance (also score) and a couple were even brand new to her, even though they had been written and/or published before she was even a grownup herself.

Mama Anna also read one entire book this week, but it was from the library, not that bag, and it was not even fiction. It was Idiot, by Laura Clery, who is actually very smart and very funny. It is a memoir, which means it is about her life up to the time she wrote it. There is another one coming in spring, and Mama Anna already wants to read that one, too. She will read other books before then, though.

Did you know that my special mousies have knots in the end of their tails? They are super good for biting and throwing so I can pounce. Yeah. That’s fun, Think I’m going to go do that soon, or maybe nap in that sunbeam.

Headbonks!