Awards

Each year the international Cat Writers Association (That's right--there are a lot of us. Be very afraid.) holds a writers conference and awards ceremony. I received notice in the mail yesterday that I'll be receiving "Certificate of Excellence" awards in the 3 categories I applied in: humor, column writing, and gift book.

The Certificate is the first step. Each category is judged by 3-5 judges and a point system is awarded. On a 100-point scale, you must earn 90 points or higher to receive the Certificate. The real award though, is called the Muse Medallion.  Let's say there are 3 certificate winners in a category. Those 3 will then compete against one another for the top award, which is the Medallion. I've won several Certificates of Excellence over the years but still haven't snagged a Medallion. 

I can almost guarantee I won't receive a Medallion for my book. I'm up against Chicken Soup for the Cat Lover's Soul and I (rightfully) don't see me beating that book.  Maybe for humor or for my column, which is also a humor column.

The one thing I've noticed with humor writing is that when in the same category against "reporting" or a "tear-jerker," it tends to get overlooked. I've talked about this with many humor writers at various conferences. Many of them complain that it's because people think writing humor is easy or anyone can do it, which is far from true. Humor writing is some of the hardest writing there is to do.

I think human nature comes into play. If you're looking at two columns and one is about rescuing a feral cat from a life of neglect and one is a humor piece about wiping a cat's butt, I think people would feel guilty "ignoring" the hard story in favor of the fun one. It doesn't mean the humor piece any less well-written, but I do understand why it's harder for people to select the humor articles as the winner. 

Anyway, it's still fun seeing who wins what. And the conference is held in conjunction with the Cat Fanciers annual cat show and that is a sight to behold. A coliseum full of felines--I'm in heaven. I'll do a book signing along with several other cat writers from our group. I was excited about the signing last year, thinking, "A cat show! What better place to sell cat books?"

Actually, it's a horrible place to sell cat books. That's because there are aisles and aisles and aisles of people selling nothing but cat crap - books, toys, food, furniture, jewelry, clothing, and on and on and on. It's so overwhelming that everything tends to just blend into one another and not a lot gets sold.

Besides, I've learned that people who own cats aren't the ones who buy my book.  People who have spouses, friends or relatives that own cats tend to be the people who buy my book as a gift for their friends.

Speaking of cats, there is a little feline face staring up at me now, wondering why I'm pounding away on keys instead of petting her. Good question. 

Don't Touch the Floor

Did you ever play that game as a child where you and your brother or sister pretended that the floor of your bedroom or living room was really shark-infested waters, and if either of you touched the floor you'd die a horrible shark-chomping death?

 I was reminded of this game yesterday when our younger tabby cat Olivia decided she'd had enough combing for the time being and jumped from my lap to the desk in our office. Lucy (black and white cat but with an outlook on life remarkably similar to that of a chomping shark) was prowling around on the floor beneath her.

Olivia managed to avoid Lucy (shark) and wind her way around the room to her favorite chair via the circuitous route of big desk to little chair to smaller desk. Smaller desk to green chair to ottoman. Ottoman to windowseat, back to ottoman and then coming to rest on the other green chair. I just burst out laughing as it so much reminded me of being young. We used to see how far we could make it around the house w/out touching the ground, stepping on toys or swinging from lamps, if need be.

Wow. How long has it been since you've done something completely silly like that? Blair mentioned perhaps we'd go out for Chinese tonight but I think we have other plans.

Something involving sharks... 

Bird Feeders

I like birds. Blair likes birds. Our cats seem to enjoy our feathered friends through windows so it seemed a logical progression for us to buy a bird feeder.

We really did it for the cats. I read yet another article about entertaining indoor cats and while we draw the line at turning over a room for their own private romping room, I was willing to shell out the 20 bucks for a feeder and birdseed.  

We went out 2 weekends ago and spent a good twenty minutes comparing the features of various feeders until we came to our senses, grabbed the cheapest one and bolted. But it appears all is for naught as area birds appear to have joined forces in one massive boycott of our feeder.

I've never heard of such a thing. If I throw breadcrumbs in the backyard I have to run inside to avoid the ensuing feeding frenzy. But we have a feeder full of seed right outside our library windows and it hasn't been touched in a week. Even the squirrels avoid it. I don't know if we've personally insulted the creatures of nature or if there's simply better grub offered elsewhere, but it's hard not to feel the snub. 

And our poor kitties. There's no hours of enjoyment of watching birds outside the window as I'd envisioned. Instead it's the same old, same old.

Now it's just a battle of wills. I refuse to change the birdseed until they eat what's there.  Come winter, they'll be begging to use my feeder. So HA! Take that birdies! 

(p.s. Please tell your bird friends there's free food at the Harris house). 

Docile Kitty?

No no no no no no no no.  NO.  Uh-uh. This can't be happening. My Olivia, my baby, my kitten, my silent-mewing sweetie-pie, just barked at me to pet her. I swear it was a full out "You will do it NOW - ROWR!"  cat bark.  But this can not be. Olivia is my gentle soul of a cat. She never makes a peep, just sits and stares at you with wide eyes until you do her bidding.  Silence is her constant companion.

To the contrary, Lucy, our tuxedo cat, won't shut up.  If she is in need of anything--water, food, playtime, combing, fresh litter, by God, you will hear about it.  And she doesn't even pretend to be nice about it. Her voicings have a definite "move your ass" quality to them.

What if Lucy has tainted Olivia? Dear Lord, I can't handle two of them bossing me around. I depend on silent angel Olivia to temper the storm that is Lucy-Cat. I always thought I wanted them to be friends, but now I'm not so sure.

I better cut this short and go comb Olivia. I'm afraid of what might happen if I don't.