I have heard humans mutter about my writing. They wonder why I do it, and some of them even think that I do NOT really compose my own works!
Imagine! Did Eudora Welty have to endure such comments? Does John Updike?
Like any artist, I write because I must. I write because I, as a dog, have stories to tell. I want to uplift, to ennoble, to educate, to show the world just a tiny glimpse of the wonders of being a dog.
Because, to tell you the truth, the world doesn’t have a clue.
I’m sure my motivations are the same as Shakespeare’s. Or Faulkner’s. Or even Proust’s though my books are not be as long as his.
Of course, as a dog author, there are some unusual strictures I must follow lest I tell too much. It’s a knife-edge I must walk, I can tell you, trying to educate humans while retaining the wondrous world of secrecy in which my fellow dogs and I live. If I say too much, and you humans finally understand how smart we dogs really are, you’ll put us ALL to work.
And my family members, the Whacks and the Noodles, proudly do NOT work.
So I must be careful what I reveal. I can say no more.
I believe my translator, Laoorel, can literally feel her brain enlarge when I transmit my thoughts to her–oh, she denies it, but I’m sure of it. And when you read my books, you’ll feel the same way. Your brain will expand because you’ve never read anything like my stories before.
When you read my books, you’ll have your little human mental accumulation, PLUS all the esoteric, exotic, and exciting, mysterious knowledge developed through the ages by the sages of the Whack and Noodle families.
When you’ve read my books, that is, you won’t be like a normal person. Not at all.
That’s because, as Hemingway and Dickens knew, literature changes people’s minds. I know MY writings do!
A most excellent blog post, Perdita. Will, Ernest, and Marcel are, I’m sure, pleased to have you in their company.