I like being a reader and I like being an author and I think the relationship between the two is a little strange.
Readers, like cats, are an ungrateful bunch. We lap up books like a dish of milk, which we fully expect to appear every day. Then we lick our fur self-righteously, as if we have done a good deed by lapping up that milk. We wander off. If we found the milk a bit sour, we wander off in a huff. Occasionally we purr as a note of thanks, but we know it isn’t expected. We pick and choose as we wish.
Authors, meanwhile, put out the milk. We watch the cats and enjoy cuddling up to them, petting them, and hearing them purr. We expect things from our cats, even though we know we won’t get it unless they want to give it.
Cats wander off when they get bored. And so I will wander off from this blog post. Look for a book. I might like it.