Saturday, February 20, 2010

Things I learned from my Cat

Steve:
Yes, we haven't been posting here much lately.  I'm hoping to change that.

It's not that I haven't been working on posts.  You can't see it, but from this side, the blog is a nest of incomplete drafts of ambitious essay-posts that never quite seem to get completed (often before the issues they're covering are already old news).

Since I started blogging, I've always subscribed to the idea of "quality over quantity."  I hated the early blogs where people reported every detail of their lives.  "Had peanut butter and honey for lunch.  Bread dry."  "Difficult bowel movement this morning."  "Cat looking at me funny again.  Think they are plotting to kill me, or possibly start literary agency."  You know, the sort of thing that has since moved on to Twitter (where I also hang out, as @JStevenYork, and where I also don't do think kind of over-sharing).

It's an admirable sentiment, but damnably difficult to do if you aren't a full-time blogger or journalist, which has never been my intent.

Recently, in another one of those run-away side-projects that I tend to have, I helped my cat become a literary agent. 

No, really.  Sorta.

See, some writers and I were talking about how unregulated agents were, how many scam agents were out there, and how anybody who called themselves an agent and printed some business cards effectively was an agent.  So I joked that anyone could be an agent, even my cat.

Famous last words.

People started asking where to send submissions, and was she taking on new clients?  So, before you knew it, the cat had tee-shirts, and mugs, and a Twitter account @BadAgentSydney and a blog (http://www.BadAgent.Me) and I found myself (since the cat doesn't type well) with another blog to fill.

So I decided to do things differently.  I started posting "Bad Agent Wisdom" on a more-or-less regular schedule.  Three times a week.  All the posts are short, often only three or four sentences.  But each one is complete, carries a little hidden message or lesson about the writing business, and they get done.

So I'm going to try that for a while.  Short.  Complete.  Done.

And no bowel movements.  I promise.



1 comment:

  1. You must have trouble sleeping sometimes when your brain won't turn off. Too many ideas, but I like them.

    ReplyDelete