Kitteh Haz No Payshunz Wif NaNo Neglektshuns

Kitteh haz no payshunz wif NaNo neglektshuns.

My cat, Merlin, an Orange Tabby, has figured out a way to ge my attention and even get me to stop what I'mdoing to fix whatever he thinks needs fixing.  He rubs his wet nose on my right hand that is holding the mouse.  He nudges,  He nips. He reaches out and hooks on claw into the skin of a finger or under the ring and pulls it toward him.  He pulls on the lid of my netbook while I'm typing.  He digs and burrows in the blankets by my hip endlessly trying to make a blanket cave for sleeping in and jostling the bed too much for me to type.

Still not cranking out the words.

But my plan, mentioned a post or two argo, to give my characters voices via long rant monologues, journals or dialog with each other has payed off some.  Odd thing is it was my protagonist Lucy's mother who spoke first.  I didn't know her name yet and she told me:

Call me Sin Thea, Goddess of Sin.  'Cynthia' is written on my birth certificate but everyone calls me Sin.  Of course they all spell it Cyn and so do I on official stuff but in my mind and sometimes on odd surfaces within reach I write, scratch, doodle or or draw 'Sin' and it seems to me to be my true and fitting name. 

Sometimes I think about sewing it on my shirt in big scarlet letters and watch the faces of the others  as they spot it and stare with unconflicted curiosity.  It seems to me that a public shame like that, like that of Hester Prin, would be so much easier to take than this slow churning, secret shame carried deep inside poisoning every thought, every relationship, every hope and dream.