The Joys of a Dysfunctional, Symbiotic Relationship

The Joys of a Dysfunctional, Symbiotic Relationship

by Rasmenia Comment Closed
“Authors like cats because they are such quiet, lovable, wise creatures, and cats like authors for the same reasons.” ― Robertson Davies“A cat has absolute emotional honesty: human beings, for one reason or another, may hide their feelings, but a cat does not.” ― Ernest Hemingway“Women and cats will do as they please, and men and dogs should relax and get used to the idea.” ― Robert A. Heinlein * * * "I think you might have a dysfunctional relationship with your cat," Olivier said as he watched the cat curl herself around the top of my head."What? Crazy talk. Nonsense. We have a perfectly normal and healthy relationship." I nuzzled my face up against her whiskers. "I'm sure lots of people share their pillow with a cat every night.""Lots of weird cat people.""Careful. You're offending the cat."I suppose he could have a point. Me and Cat (yes, my cat's name is Cat) might have a dysfunctional relationship, but it's been functioning...
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Survival is Triumph Enough

Survival is Triumph Enough

by Rasmenia Comment Closed
  “Being a fiction writer is a good way to go crazy, it’s a good way to be a nervous wreck, it’s a good way to become a drunk. You continually pick at yourself, the little sores that you have. They scab over and you pick them open again. Other people not only let them scab over, they let them scar over. They leave it alone. Writers don’t do that. They can’t keep their fingers out of the sore. They’ve got to keep it bleeding. And it’s off that blood that they make their stuff.”  -Harry Crews   "You have to go to considerable trouble to live differently from the way the world wants you to live. That's what I've discovered about writing. The world doesn't want you to do a damn thing. If you wait till you got time to write a novel or time to write a story or time to read the hundred thousands of books you should have already...
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The Misanthropic Heathens & the Quest for Christmas Magic

The Misanthropic Heathens & the Quest for Christmas Magic

by Rasmenia Comment Closed
“Christmas is doing a little something extra for someone.”  - Charles M. Schulz“What kind of Christmas present would Jesus ask Santa for?” - Salman Rushdie, Fury*When I was a tiny, brand-new person, I knew what it felt like to be overwhelmed by music, cookies & twinkling lights. I knew the absolute joy that can only come from a tiny, brand-new person's sense of wonder when presented with stories & images of magical elves, animals & places.I knew Christmas magic. It was nothing less than magic.Like any kid, I got excited about presents. But, wasn't the anticipation & surprise always more fun than the actual object wrapped up inside all of that pretty paper?I consider myself lucky that for the first few years of my life, I had grandparents who I always spent the holiday with & that they got more excited about Christmas than anyone I've ever met since. There was always an enormous tree, standing upon a big...
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There Is Nothing More

There Is Nothing More

by Rasmenia Comment Closed
“Do I fear death? No, I am not afraid of being dead because there's nothing to be afraid of, I won't know it. I fear dying, of dying I feel a sense of waste about it and I fear a sordid death, where I am incapacitated or imbecilic at the end which isn't something to be afraid of, it's something to be terrified of.”"The only position that leaves me with no cognitive dissonance is atheism. It is not a creed. Death is certain, replacing both the siren-song of Paradise and the dread of Hell. Life on this earth, with all its mystery and beauty and pain, is then to be lived far more intensely: we stumble and get up, we are sad, confident, insecure, feel loneliness and joy and love. There is nothing more; but I want nothing more.""So far, I have decided to take whatever my disease can throw at me, and to stay combative even while taking the...
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Stay Away From the Weird Writer Woman

Stay Away From the Weird Writer Woman

by Rasmenia Comment Closed
If you have a little girl, don't let her grow up to be a writer. You'll only regret it. Here's what could happen: you could end up with a weirdo. A weirdo who sits alone in her room, scribbling in notebooks. A weirdo who you wish would try a little harder to be "normal". But instead, you've got this strange little shit, sitting in her room, organizing these stacks of notebooks as if they actually meant something. When her birthday rolls around, or Christmas, you hope that she'll ask for one of those cute little fluffy whatever-the-hell those things are called because that's what your friend's daughter wants and they're the same age, so... you hope. But, no. Your little freak asks for a typewriter. Never mind that she doesn't even know how to type. Whatever. You'll buy her the damn thing and try not to stare at the awkward, hand-flying, key-banging style that she's developing as she's teaching herself to type. Then you'll...
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