It’s pretty simple:  I have a very high-traffic blog (Ballastexistenz) that generates a constant flood of spam and is terrible and stress-inducing to try to maintain because of this (especially as genuine commenters get their spam eaten by my spam-control measures).  This is my attempt to start over and do a blog that’s easier to maintain.  Additionally, it’s been very hard to get away from the reputation that my old blog is one-topic only (even though it isn’t), and I’m hoping that it will be easier to write here than there as the whole person that I am, rather than at a site that pulls things towards a specific topic. So far, this has proven to be true, and this blog has helped me away from the odd form of writer’s block I’ve been experiencing, one caused as much by expectations of my being a “disability writer” as by anything inside of me. You’ll find a whole lot here that I wouldn’t be able to write if I stuck to only my main blog.

As for the name of the blog, it comes from the following quote:

Rhiow had a long drink, then strolled back to jump up on the couch and have a proper wash this time. She had finished with her head and ears when Hhuha got up, went to the dining room, and came back with still more papers. Rhiow looked at them with distaste.

As Hhuha sighed and put the new load down on the couch, Rhiow got up, stretched again, and carefully sat herself down on the papers; then she put her left rear leg up past her left ear and began to wash her back end. It was body language that even humans seemed sometimes to understand.

Rhiow was pretty sure that Hhuha understood it, but right now she just breathed out wearily. She picked Rhiow up off the pile and put her on the couch next to it, saying, “Oh, come on, you, why do you always have to sit on my paperwork?”

“I’m sitting on it because you hate it,” Rhiow said. She sat down on it again, then hunkered down and began kneading her claws into the paperwork, punching holes in the top sheet and wrinkling it and all the others under it.

“Hey, don’t do that, I need those!”

“No, you don’t. They make you crazy. You shouldn’t do this stuff on the weekend: it’s bad enough that they make you do it all day during the week.” Rhiow rolled over off the paper-pile, grabbing some of the papers as she went, and throwing them in the air.

“Oh, kitty, don’t!” Hhuha began picking the papers up. “Not that I wouldn’t like to myself,” she added under her breath.

“See? And why you should pay attention to that stuff when I’m here, I can’t understand,” Rhiow muttered, as Hhuha picked her up and put her in her lap. “See, isn’t that better? You don’t need this junk. You need a cat.”

[Diane Duane, The Book of Night with Moon]


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