The Project of Projecting

Projecting: It's what all ailurophiles do with their cats. I've been known to say that Kitty O is smiling; another friend swears her cat is a philosopher; yet another friend confessed that her fur baby preferred it when she spoke to him in Italian rather than Russian. We need to do that because cats don't tell us, in words, what, exactly, a particular meow or scratch means.
Books do something similar. Though every page is filled with words, we readers project our meaning on those words. If, for example, a character is going through chemotherapy, those who have had that unfortunate experience, will feel differently than those who have not gone to an oncologist. At the end of the day, all our feelings, thrust upon a book, make us either like or dislike it.
As a writer, I have to always make sure that my words invite a reader to either bring an experience, or try and experience it through my telling.
A reader of my first Oscar D'Costa mystery noted that she connected much more with Thalia, the girl who gives the novel its title, "The Girl Who Went Missing," because her friends had recently returned from a trip to India and had, on occasion, feared for the safety of their two young daughters. Of course another reader might think I was exaggerating the situation.
I often wonder how much I exaggerate re Kitty O. Is he really happy or is he simply purring? Does he want the comfort of my company or is he cold? I'll never know....all I can do is keep trying to figure out his needs, in much the same way I keep trying to write better stories.