Inside my local library in Montclair, New Jersey. (Photo by me.)
You know you’re a book addict when…
…despite a broken big toe, you make a hobbling visit to the library to borrow a new bunch of novels. (Which I did on June 13.)
…you read while waiting in line (at a store, the post office, etc.) even though you might be also holding something else (a purchase, a package, etc.).
…you uncomfortably grasp a large hardcover to read while on an exercise bike.
…you read even if you’re in a room with poor lighting.
…you read while a passenger in a car even though that makes you feel kind of sick.
…you bring a novel to a doctor’s appointment and are almost disappointed on the rare occasion when you’re summoned from the waiting room on time.
…you try to read in an eye doctor’s waiting room after your pupils have been dilated.
…you read almost as much as you usually do despite an eye infection. (Happened to me last year.)
…you read a novel while watching something on YouTube even though splitting one’s attention in half is not wise, so you only do this for a little while.
…you know the year of birth for many novelists.
…you know the year of death for many novelists. (I don’t think this includes living authors, but I’ll ask the supposed psychic in Liane Moriarty’s Here One Moment novel. 🙂 )
…your brain practically breaks when you’re forced to reduce your book collection by two-thirds because of moving from a house to an apartment. (As I did in 2014.)
…you’re upset when a screen adaptation doesn’t do a novel justice.
…you exult when a screen adaptation DOES do a novel justice.
…you’re chagrined on the rare occasion when a screen adaptation is better than the book(s) it’s based on.
…you continue reading a compelling novel late at night even though you’re tired and should go to sleep.
…you delay posting on your literature blog for an hour or two because you’re so engrossed in a book.
Any additions or comments? 🙂
Last-minute postscript, after last night’s disgusting/dangerous/unprovoked bombing of Iran by the United States: You know you’re a book addict when you wish Trump and the officials in his administration were also avid novel readers — which would perhaps give them a bit more empathy, decency, common sense, and historical knowledge. Actually, perhaps not. 😦
Misty the cat says: “I’ve used an inhaler since 2018, a year after asthma was invented.”
My comedic 2024 book — the part-factual/part-fictional/not-a-children’s-work Misty the Cat…Unleashed — is described and can be purchased on Amazon in paperback or on Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And Misty says Amazon reviews are welcome. 🙂 )
This 90-second promo video for my book features a talking cat: 🙂
…and a 2012 memoir that focuses on cartooning and more.
In addition to this weekly blog, I write the 2003-started/award-winning “Montclairvoyant” topical-humor column every Thursday for Montclair Local. The latest piece — which includes an election postmortem, discussion of a large local “No Kings” protest against the Trump regime, and more — is here.
I, the feline Misty, realize most novelists celebrate their birthdays with cake. I eat cat food. (Photo by my human Dave, who has informed me that today is not my birthday.)
Hi! Misty the cat here. I haven’t guest-blogged for Dave since December 8, which was two months ago. It was also sort of a year ago: 2024! Four millennia ago, too, because it was 2024 BC (Blogging Cat). Time flies when you’re…swatting a clock off the mantelpiece.
Anyway, Dave can use the break because he recently had a nasty case of the flu as well as various family matters keeping him busy, including explaining to the ghost of his 17th-century ancestor why her on-the-mantelpiece antique clock is splattered across the floor. Or maybe that cheapo clock was purchased for a few bucks this century at Kmart. (“‘Attention, Kmart shoppers.’ Get the hell of here because our chain filed for bankruptcy seven years ago, in 2018.”)
But what topic should I, Misty the cat, discuss today? It occurred to me that authors have birthdays in all 12 months — except October because someone stole a briefcase with Bono’s notes and lyrics while he and the rest of U2 were recording their “October” album in 1981. Anyway, authors have birthdays in the other 11 months, except for those who have birthdays in October, so let’s discuss some novelists who were born in February — this month! (“I’m dreaming of a white…Presidents’ Day…with every Presidents’ Day card I write…”)
Born on February 1 (1918) was Muriel Spark! She’s best known for writing the 1930s-set novel The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, whose title character was the first Amazon Prime customer.
Also born on February 1 (1901) was Langston Hughes, whose debut novel has a title — Not Without Laughter — that contains valuable advice for writing my blog posts. Heck, the only time I’m 100% serious is when my cat-treat container is empty and I consequently wear a mourning veil. Unlike someone marrying on the rebound who wears a basketball net for a veil.
Coming into the world on February 2 (1882) was James Joyce — who, if he had been a cat with nine lives, would’ve written “The Dead” nine times. Rather repetitive.
Ultraconservative icon Ayn Rand’s birthday was also on February 2 (1905). She decried government-run programs, yet hypocritically collected Social Security! Meanwhile, Atlas shrugged after his job as a book of maps was supplanted by GPS. “Turn right at the fountainhead.”
James Michener! Born on February 3 (1907). He wrote so many “doorstop” books that The Doors stopped…being a rock band. But not before one of my cat ancestors sang “Light My Fur” when one of those laser pointers was aimed at her.
Charles Dickens came to be on February 7 (1812). In his immortal words, “It was the best of cats, it was the best of cats,” because what other kinds of cats are there?
Sinclair Lewis was also born on February 7 (1885). He’s known for his 1920s run of excellent novels as well as for the iconic Lewis and Clark Expedition that involved setting a pick for Indiana Fever hoops superstar Caitlin Clark.
Another February 7 (1867) birthday was that of Little House on the Prairie series author Laura Ingalls Wilder. The diminutive nature of that house inspired the tiny green plastic houses used in Monopoly games.
Jules Verne? Born on February 8 (1828). Verne was a science-fiction pioneer, though he didn’t invent the genre. Sci-fi’s inventor was in fact my good friend Garfield the cat, who crafted a spaceship from lasagna and the rest was history.
Also a February 8 (1850) author was Kate Chopin, whose The Awakening novel shocked felines accustomed to napping 24 hours a day.
February 8 (1955) brought us John Grisham, too. His novel The Firm was great, but not quite an accurate representation of my jiggly belly.
Alice Walker was born on February 9 (1944). Given that me and other cats are partially color-blind, I have to take people’s word that Walker wrote The Color Purple.
February 10 (1890) was the birthday of Boris Pasternak, whose Doctor Zhivago is not about my vet. But my vet is welcome to change her name to Doctor Zhivago.
Toni Morrison was born on February 18 (1931). Her masterful work included Song of Solomon, whose initials remind me that I send out an SOS when my humans are gone for more than five seconds.
Amy Tan’s birthday is on February 19 (1952). Her books include The Kitchen God’s Wife, but religion continues to confuse me. What’s God doing in the kitchen? Does God really have a wife? If so, does that couple file a joint tax return? Who’s their CPA (Celestial Pair Accountant)?
The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter author Carson McCullers was also born on February 19 (1917). I know something about hunting, as I illustrate whenever I leave my apartment for my daily leashed walk. Let me know when chasing chipmunks becomes an Olympic sport.
David Foster Wallace, born on February 21 (1962), wrote Infinite Jest. If this post of mine became similarly infinite, could the WordPress blog platform handle that?
Anthony Burgess was born on February 25 (1917). Best known for A Clockwork Orange, but me and other cats aren’t into fruit. Our digestive systems are built for meat, and we don’t have the taste receptors to detect sweetness. Burgess could have written A Clockwork Tuna Melt, but noooo. Sheesh.
Victor Hugo! Born on February 26 (1802). Les Miserables is what happens when someone sticks a fruit platter in front of me.
I’ll end with John Steinbeck, who entered the world a century after Hugo (1902) on February 27. I don’t mean to harp on fruit, but The Grapes of Wrath…really? Steinbeck did also write East of Eden, which is definitely not east of an apple orchard.
Dave will reply to comments because I need to enter the contest for “Best Cat-Written Blog Post Focusing on Authors Born in February.” If I win a cash prize, maybe we can afford to turn up the heat in this damn apartment.
I, Misty the cat, say: “‘The Snows of Kilimanjaro’ have come to New Jersey.”
My (and Dave’s) comedic 2024 book — the part-factual/part-fictional/not-a-children’s-work Misty the Cat…Unleashed — is described and can be purchased on Amazon in paperback or on Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And I, Misty, say Amazon reviews are welcome. 🙂 )
This 90-second promo video for the book features a talking cat that looks sort of like me: 🙂
…and a 2012 memoir that focuses on cartooning and more.
In addition to his weekly blog, Dave writes the 2003-started/award-winning “Montclairvoyant” topical-humor column every Thursday for Montclair Local. The latest piece — about a plan for seven new pricey homes — is here.
The Sun Also Rises on my kitty self. (Photo by Dave the biped.)
I, Misty the cat, have returned to write another guest post about “books, books, books.” Which sounds like a chicken saying “buk, buk, buk.” Why did the chicken cross The Road? To get to the other side of Cormac McCarthy’s 2006 novel.
Not funny was last month’s news that the late McCarthy had a relationship with a girl that started when she was 16 and he was 42. That’s sleazy Lolita territory, which reminds me that Vladimir Nabokov also authored Pale Fire about a blaze slathered with enough sunscreen to prevent it from getting burned. Not exactly an Elin Hilderbrand “beach read.” Nor was Andre Dubus III’s novel House of Sand and Fog, which I could’ve pierced with a beach umbrella if I had it in paperback rather than hardcover. I, the feline writing this post, live in the House of Broadband Blog. Actually an apartment, but the wifi is decent.
Late autumn isn’t swimming weather, but November 30 was the 150th anniversary of L.M. Montgomery’s birth. She of course wrote the iconic Anne of Green Gables, an exceptional YA novel. YA means Young Adult as well as Yowling Adult, which describes Dave after I grabbed his laptop to write this post. He’ll get over it, especially when I give him a newfangled quill pen and parchment paper to scribble this week’s shopping list. First seven items: cat food, cat chow, cat cuisine, cat edibles, cat victuals, cat nourishment, and cat sustenance.
Moving to my book list, I recently read Nelson DeMille for the first time — his novel The Quest. Quite exciting once I got over my first disappointment about the book’s tired trope of focusing on white visitors to a “third world” country — and my second disappointment that the quest was for a holy relic rather than a cat treat at peak freshness. A good chunk of DeMille’s story takes place in Ethiopia, where injera is a food staple. That pancake-like bread is slightly spongy, so a big-enough piece would make for an excellent cat bed. But my local pet store only sells cat beds with inedible cushioning; Goodnight Moon will never be the same.
Speaking of children’s books, The Cat in the Hat‘s title character is a rather slim kitty — certainly slimmer than me, a feline who starts his midnight snacking at noon. I’ve read that Dr. Seuss based his tall feline’s look on the Uncle Sam he had previously drawn in his political cartoons, which reminds me that I’m weighing a presidential run in 2028. To practice for my future time in the Oval Office, I occasionally walk in circles.
My favorite novels with at least some political themes, schemes, dreams, teams, screams, and memes? Among them are Robert Penn Warren’s All the King’s Men, George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four, J.K. Rowling’s The Casual Vacancy, Stephen King’s The Dead Zone, and Miguel de Cervantes’ Don Trumpote, co-starring Donald Trump’s loyal squire JD Vanza. Cervantes lived in Spain during the same circa-1600 era that James Clavell’s Japan-set novel Shogun unfolded. Little-known fact: Spain and Japan are walking distance from each other despite being 6,600 miles apart. Admittedly, the walk would take a year or two, even for a fast cat like me. The Inedible Journey without an injera cat bed.
Anyway, this month begins The Incredible Journey known as the march to the holiday season, meaning I might reread A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens, who invented the CD when he initialed a document. There’s also Fannie Flagg’s excellent A Redbird Christmas, John Grisham’s so-so Skipping Christmas, and the classic song “I’m Dreaming of a White Pearl Harbor Day” — which you can hear on a CD player that Dickens also invented.
Yesterday, December 7, was Pearl Harbor Day. Today, December 8, is the seventh anniversary of when I was adopted into my current home! That was in 2017, the year Aaron Judge hit 52 home runs as a rookie. Or was it 52 apartment runs as a rookie? No idea what his living arrangements were back then, or why Edith Wharton wrote The House of Mirth rather than The Yurt of Mirth. Maybe because her protagonist Lily Bart didn’t live in Mongolia?
Getting back to the festive season, my Misty the Cat…Unleashed book would make a great holiday gift this month for the kitty lovers in your life. I co-wrote it with my human peep Dave, sort of like how Woodward and Bernstein co-wrote All the President’s Cats about the Watergate scandal, Richard Nixon, and his 1974 resignation — with no mention of cats. Surprisingly, Nixon didn’t blog about any of this at the time.
Dave will reply to comments, because I’m in serious pre-winter training to vigorously shred the wrapping paper on holiday gifts.
Misty the cat says: “Today’s my 7th adoption anniversary. I appreciate the celebratory lights.”
Dave’s comedic 2024 book — the part-factual/part-fictional/not-a-children’s-work Misty the Cat…Unleashed — is described and can be purchased on Amazon in paperback or on Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And I, Misty, say Amazon reviews are welcome. 🙂 )
This 90-second promo video for Dave’s book features a talking cat: 🙂
In addition to this weekly blog, Dave writes the 2003-started/award-winning “Montclairvoyant” topical-humor column every Thursday for Montclair Local. The latest piece — which includes a “Twelve Days of Christmas” theme — is here.
Dave Astor on Literature 