I love animals.
Adorable ones. Fluffy ones. Colorful ones. Scaly ones. Feathery ones. Some that scuttle. Others that flap or flutter. (not spiders, though – way too leggedy) But let’s say 98% of creatures that fall under the “animal umbrella” are my bag.
Aside from so many obvious qualities, I love the fact that animals are “pure”. They don’t live by any pretense or hidden agenda or measuring stick. They like you (or not) based on instinct and rarely hold a grudge. The exception to that might be our kitty, Noodle, who gets scared and hides under the couch (all 19 pounds of him) and won’t come out until he believes everything is safe, which could be hours after a visitor has left the house.
He loves me, though. I know this to be true. If there is any earthly way he could lay on me with his face up against mine, it’s going to happen. Many times, I’ll allow it. Other times, I move him off so I can, you know, read, actually see the TV, breathe…
As Spring starts to creep around the corner, I’ve noticed a few more animals making appearances in the yard. There was an enormous bunny hanging out in the backyard the other day. Geese just few over the house as I’m typing this. The presence of animals creates a sort of grounding for me. Call it a connection to nature or what have you, but I’d say I’m most at peace when I’m near them.
So, why the philosophical rambling? Many reasons, most likely. Thirty six years ago today, my dad passed away. I was 19. Nope – not looking for sympathy – just expressing my thoughts and the reasons behind them. I’ve got a birthday coming up in a month and I’m looking toward retiring (next year).
These are the kinds of things that push me toward introspection. It also creates a certain state of mind that will ultimately affect how I write the second draft of “Rage” (novel #4). While this book is going to be rather dark (more Track 9-ish than say, Badfish), it’s important that I am able to “live” in that kind of mindset when I’m composing/revising/editing. I assume actors do the same kind of thing – before filming a rough scene, they need to be able to get to that “dark place” in order to convey that feeling through their character.
For me, writing is the same thing. To write “dark”, I have to “know” dark, “feel” dark, and “understand darkness”.
I just don’t have to stay there. That’s where a good, fuzzy kitty comes in. 🙂
Thanks for reading – and if you haven’t heard, Buried is NOW on Kindle (for a mere $2.99)