This is it, you guys. I’ve found the One True Alpha. All the rest of you posers can go home. Nothing like vintage alpha for a bit of nostalgia, and at 1919, The Sheik is considered by some the first romance novel ever. Sometimes, the original actually is the best worst. NOTHING will ever be as terrible or as hilarious as this book. Hence the reason I read the entire thing with a gigantic smile on my face. IT WAS SO AWESOME. Except for…well, we’ll get to that. Continue reading “Somedaaaaay, my alpha will cooooome, or, a review of The Sheik”→
Once upon a time, there was a Russian soldier named Leon Nasevich. Like most of the people I know, he is fictional. He can be found here (yes, sometimes the Dear America series stays with you ten years later, which reminds me–I need to buy this book). I bring him up because he says something relevant to this post, which is that kittens’ genders are stamped on their bottoms.
Ha. Ha. Ha.
YOU LIED TO ME, LEON. Okay, fine, there IS something down there in a kitten’s um, area, but what is it? WHAT IS IT? Even our vets can’t tell at that stage, they said so.
As you might have guessed, I have a new kitty. Actually, it’s not precisely new–we’ve had it since Halloween–but it wasted no time in inserting itself into our lives and routine. I refer to the kitty as “it” because it hasn’t decided whether it’s a boy or a girl yet. Currently, it is a non-gendered entity that occasionally goes by the name of Toothless. Continue reading “The obligatory kitty post”→
I am incredibly lazy. Instead of actually writing this story, I’m going to reuse an old narrative essay about this topic. It’s a bit stilted, since I was (or am?) still figuring out how to merge personality with academic writing. With that in mind, I tried to make it more bloggable. Is that a word? No? Well, now it is.
My first story was terrible. Using increasingly elaborate notebooks covered with lighthouses and bees, I carefully composed a narrative involving princesses, stilted vocabulary, and talking horses. After roughly five years of this silliness, my original story had fallen into a sad state of neglect. Seeking distractions, I was lurking on the Amazon Romance Forum, as I often did, when a poster asked what sort of romance heroes and heroines our pets would make. I considered this question deeply. I considered it so deeply, in fact, that I wrote a novel about it. Pup, my little pit bull heeler mix, I made my heroine, and Midnight, my black cat with an ego the size of Alaska, was the hero. With those characters, I wrote over a thousand pages of drafts and tidbits. I learned something about composition from my original story, but my pets were the ones who really inspired my writing. Continue reading “What’s in a URL? Or, the story of how this blog got its name”→
Teddy, the kitten I sort of named myself after, died recently (my dog killed him. I’m still mad). We live on a farm, so all but the smartest cats generally get picked off by wild animals (or, occasionally, the wild animals in my backyard), so I’m sort of used to it, but I still really miss him.
Rest in peace, you little diva, you. May this blog be a memorial.