communiCATion

Ever experienced that look on your cat's face when you know he is telling you something but clearly, you are too dumb to get it? Last night as I was eating dinner, Kitty O cocked his head to one side, eyes alert, and I knew he was communicating with me. This time, much to my surprise, I got it. He wanted more food, so I dutifully followed him to his bowl and, ever the good parent, filled it.

Books often beckon inn the same way, communicating from the shelves, such that I reach out and start reading a novel I had long forgotten.

At other times, however, I am the one who has a question as I scan the titles of my growing library. Something is going on inside me, and I need a book to allay that feeling, answer that question, take me out of myself.

Every now and then Kitty O must have that exact feeling of want, and then I am at my wit's end, trying to calm him because he simply won't stop meowing. Those are difficult times indeed, and then I long for the days when all I needed to do was fill a bowl.

As a writer, I am often in quest of something to fill out a scene, flesh out a character, round out a chapter. Sometimes the answer comes quickly, sometimes it takes weeks. When it is the latter, there is nothing more daunting than the blank screen of my computer. I know it is waiting for me to fill it, in the same way that Kitty O waits for me to soothe whatever it is that is causing him to meow at the sun and moon.