My Plott Hound is an Introvert

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There have been many famous and talented writers who had special pets in their lives.

  • Mark Twain owned a “large and intensely black” cat named Bambino who went missing from his household when he lived in New York. This author offered a $5 reward for the return of his beloved pet. While the entire world lined up at his door with an assortment of cats just to meet the great Mr. Clemens, Bambino eventually returned of his own accord and saved his owner the reward money.  I have two enormous black cats, so logically, I should be twice as amusing a writer as Mr. Clemens.
  • Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s constant companion was a Cocker Spaniel named Flush. She was one of the most prominent poets of the Victorian era. I have no talent for poetry, but I do own a Cocker Spaniel named George. Based on this connection, I hold out hope that I will one day wake up with a sudden ability to write lyrically.
  • John Steinbeck had a near-final, handwritten draft of his classic work Of Mice and Men eaten by his dearly loved Irish setter, Toby. Now, that’s what I’m talking about.

Continue reading “My Plott Hound is an Introvert”

My Plott Hound is an Introvert

Introvert’s Dilemma

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When I decided to start writing full-time, I was under the impression that I would turn into a reclusive author. I had visions of holing up in the house as a snowstorm raged outside, typing away on book after book, a dog curled up nearby, and a hot cup of coffee in easy reach. Too soon, I was disabused of these notions as I learned that writers must engage in an obscene amount of marketing, so that a book will find its audience. To me, this seemed a damned shame, since my basic nature seemed to align so well with the fantasy aspects of being a cloistered writer.

I am a militant introvert and I am uncomfortable participating in acts of self-promotion. Continue reading “Introvert’s Dilemma”

Introvert’s Dilemma