Friday Forays In Fiction: Listening to Witty Kitty

moar funny pictures
Last week I was all down on my self and my files and threatening to hand them over to the cat to trash like a role of toilet paper. I was upset with myself for not being able to stay on task, for fiddling and fussing with my stories instead of getting hard copies printed off.

This week, having spent an inordinate amount of time on LOLcats while looking for lazy post concepts during this enervating heatwave I was reminded of a lesson learned and forgotten and learned again so many times I can't count. It is this: that every success I've ever had with my writing (fiction or other) has without exception begun with a sense of play and wonder. And every time that something bogs down the process or puts me in a funk the only way out is to go back to first things; to seek out the spirit of play. Who better to learn (or relearn) that lesson from than a cat?

Now if only I could figure out how to not forget it again. Maybe a string on my finger? A bracelet? A locket? A tattoo?