The privacy issue: Cats v Writers

I was watching Kitty O take a bath the other day and while it occurred to me that yes, he could absolutely pose for Degas, I also realized that he was blissfully unaware of the fact that a bunch of my friends were watching this very private moment. He had gained a certain amount of comfort in their presence and, as we kept talking, decided to tongue on with his ablutions. One friend who has never been around cats, was particularly amazed by Kitty O's legs-apart exposure and attention to detail.

"That's exactly what writers do," I announced, much to their surprise. And then went on to explain that a book contains our entire life, as it were. I'm not talking about a memoir; I'm talking about how the details in a novel are the result of the life a writer has lived. It is full on nudity --in words. If critics can spend years trying to figure out who Shakespeare really was, and how he lived, based on his writings, it stands to reason that we writers pick analogies, topics, etc, from what we know and have experienced. A writer is really putting herself/himself out there, naked, as it were, saying, "This is how I think and this, in a way, is who I am."

And just like my friend could not stop commenting on Kitty O's ministrations, readers can share their opinions about a book on any number of media outlets.

It's scary, really, to be a writer. So why expose oneself so willingly, you might ask. I guess we writers keep on writing because we need to, in much the same way that Kitty O keeps on cleaning himself, no matter who is in the vicinity, because it's in his nature to do so.