January 18th, 2008


Celebrating V.

I have a friend with whom I have coffee on a regular basis. We never have to worry about scheduling, and she doesn't mind that I don't bring her a latte or share my croissant. It's V, the long-haired Siamese from two apartments over. I pull up and get out and can see her on her usual chair, ears perking up. By the time I'm out of the car, she's there, with a long slow stretch intended to let me know she's not really waiting for me, she just happens to be there..

We sit on the front steps and watch the finches hopping around through the rhododendrons while Raven sits in the front window keeping a jealous eye on me. She curls on my lap, bird-like herself -- she's an older cat, a puff of hair around thin bones -- and purrs and pushes her head into her leg. We don't talk about politics, or lovers, or fiction-writing. We just stay there, sharing our time, and it's such a lovely ritual that I found myself worrying when I hadn't seen her for a week and relieved this morning when there she was. What is it that makes us feel so good when we have someone that looks glad to see us?

In writing news, a story bounced back from F&SF with a note that they usually stay away from high fantasy, that such stories usually work better in longer form, and the frighteningly accurate suggestion that perhaps it work better as a longer work. Which is true, and which I'll do - once the novel is done.
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