Betsy Horvath

Author: Betsy Horvath

  • Pictures of Cats

    Today, as creative juices are a little short in supply, I thought that I would share pictures of cats.  Specifically, pictures of MY cats.  Everyone needs a little warm fuzzy time.

    So, okay.  Here are Emily and Oliver as babies.  Emily is the one with the black ears.  In this picture, it looks like she was hugging Oliver, but trust me. She wasn’t.

    Here’s another one.  Oliver is sleeping the sleep of the just.

    Awww…look at the babies.  They’re so cute and small.  And then they…grew up.   Here’s Emily now:

    And here’s Oliver:

    OliverDon’t you love the tongue sticking out?  I have so many damn pictures of that cat’s tongue.


    My sister rescued Emily and Oliver as baby kittens when they were dumped on her road.  I had just lost two of my cats, so I knew they were meant for me.  My older cat, Isaac, wasn’t so sure.

    After a month or two, Isaac got used to the kittens.  Then Tasha came to live with us.  Actually, I believe Tasha was dumped in the woods near my house and she started living under my porch.  I took her in.  Isaac was not amused.  Here’s Tasha with Isaac, once he finally let her get close to him.  Give a woman an inch, and she steals the whole blanket.


    Tasha was about eight months old when she came to live with us.  As with Emily and Oliver, she grew.  Here’s Tasha now:

    What can I say?  I have a gift.  I can make anything fat.

    Anyway, we lived happily enough until a friend of mine at work told me about a little kitten she had rescued from the streets of Queens in NYC.  He was half-starved, scared and looking for a home.  I already had four cats.  So of course I said that I would take him!  And thus Eddie came to household.  Isaac really wasn’t amused this time.  “Another one?  Seriously?”

    It took a while for me to get Eddie to trust me, but after some time and patience he was socialized pretty well into our little family.  As you can see:

    He started out pretty scrawny, so I haven’t been able to make him fat yet.  But he is definitely “sleek”!

    My beloved baby Isaac passed away a couple of years ago, so I am a four cat household again.  And if you came to see me, you wouldn’t think I had any cats at all – well, except for the litter boxes – because they all run and hide from strangers.  I like to think that they love me and don’t want to risk being snatched from my warm embrace.

    But it’s probably the food.

     

  • A Few Things I Learned After My Book Was Released

    I was on vacation last week, so I actually had time to think. Thinking time has been at a premium for the past couple of months, but last week I was able to reflect on some of  the things I’ve learned now that my book has been released.

    As you may, or may not, know, my romantic suspense novel, HOLD ME, came out on 9/5/11, so it’s been roaming free in the wilds for a month now. And as you may, or may not, know, this is the first time I’ve had a book published. So there have been a lot of new things to absorb.

    Anyway, here are some random thoughts about what I’ve learned, in no particular order of importance.

    • People actually read my book (and are reading it). I was kind of surprised by that. I’m not sure why I was surprised, because people reading it is kind of the point of publication. Anyway, knowing that people were reading something I wrote, and that I had no control over who read it and who didn’t, was a new experience for me.
    • I was also surprised by what people liked and didn’t like about the book. The one issue I thought everyone would comment on has only been a problem for one or two people. Something I didn’t even consider to be an issue at all has made people very angry or very annoyed. (I’m not going to tell you what those things are because I don’t want to prejudice anyone who might be reading the book).
    • The bad reviews have been more valuable than the good reviews in pointing out weaknesses and things I should watch out for in the future. I don’t enjoy reading them, and sometimes they make me sad, but I’m trying to learn from them.  They also helped me to come to terms with why I write in the first place.  Because if I’m only writing because I want people to like me, I’m going to have a rough road ahead.
    • Social media IS the great time waster. It is also VERY easy in the social media world to think that you’re more important than you really are. Well, okay, we’re all important, but I mean it’s easy to believe that you’re more above-average than you really are. Basically, we’re all schmoes.
    • If you have a vague notion for a series, plot it all out first because DANG it’s hard to back into your thought processes once the book is finished.
    • You may find support where you least expect it. But you may also find that the reality of the fact that you’ve taken a step forward in your life startles people and makes them back off.
    • Being published does not make you a writer. Only writing makes you a writer. Being published just means that people you don’t know are reading what you’ve written.

    So, there you go. I’m back at work tomorrow, so all deep reflective thought shall cease for at least a couple of days while I scramble out from under a pile of papers. LOL 😀

     

  • Reasons and Excuses

    “If God gives you something you can do, then why in God’s name wouldn’t you do it?”

    Stephen King
    On Writing

    This quote from Stephen King is one of my favorite lines from his wonderful book On Writing. I think it’s one of my favorites because I find it one of the most challenging things he has to say. It’s just so straightforward, isn’t it? If you have something you can do, then why don’t you do it?  No, really.  Why?

    I often find myself thinking about this quote, and I have a variety of responses to it. Sometimes, if I’m feeling defensive, I say, “Oh, yeah. Easy for you to say Steve. You with your zillion dollars and your supportive wife who stood by you even when you were living in a double-wide and your life that’s set up so you can write whenever you damn well please. Easy for you.”

    But that’s not fair, either to myself or Mr. King, because until he hit it big with Carrie, his life was much harder than mine has been. Despite everything, he kept writing with relentless determination. My resentment is just an excuse.

    Sometimes when I think about this quote, I think, “Sure I should write more. But I’m single and I work. So everything that needs to be done around this place has to be done by me and because I work there are limited hours to do them in. Then there’s my elderly mother, who is demanding more and more of my time. And I haven’t been feeling especially well. Writing just gets shoved aside.”

    Those things are all true, and they are all perhaps reasons why I am not as productive as I say I would like to be. But they are also excuses. There are plenty of people who have much more going on in their lives than I do. Many of them also manage to write. Just look at all of the working mother writers out there. They may not write fast, but they write.

    Finally, as I think about this quote I come down to what is probably the true and honest answer. I’m afraid. I’m afraid of failing. I’m afraid of succeeding. I’m afraid I won’t be able to pull it off. I’m afraid that I don’t have anything interesting to say. I’m afraid because it’s a lot of hard work and it’s easier to say you are a writer than it is to actually write something.

    But fear, as with all of the other reasons, is merely an excuse. And if you have something that you can do, then why in God’s name don’t you do it? And if you don’t do it, if you intentionally turn aside, especially for a stupid reason like fear, then you do not respect the gift you have been given.

    And the gift you have been given, whatever it may be, is wonderful.

    So if you have been given something you can do, then please go out and do it. And I think I’ll do the same. 😀

     

  • From The Doctor’s Office

    Here’s a little stream of consciousness riff on my visit to the doctor’s office this morning. Proving that you can find a blog post everywhere you go.

    Time spent waiting to see doctor: 1 hour
    Time spent with medical professionals (doctor and nurse): 30 minutes.
    A fairly good ratio.

    This was my first visit to a new doctor. My previous doctor left the firm unexpectedly due to illness and they kicked me to the curb. My doctor before that died unexpectedly from a blood clot. I spent some time while I was waiting hoping that I would not impact this new doctor’s health in any way.

    Other thoughts I had while waiting:

    • I hope he doesn’t yell at me.
    • I hope they don’t weigh me.
    • Today really is the first day of the rest of my life. I have the consequences of actions I’ve taken before, but that doesn’t mean I can’t change. The journey of a thousand miles really does begin with a single step. All I have to do is start. I’ll have some obstacles to overcome, but if I eat that elephant one bite at a time I can do it.
    • I wonder if I know any more aphorisms.

    Funniest moment:
    Nurse (while weighing me): “Oh myyyyyyy….”
    Me: “It’s the shoes.”
    It’s the SHOES? WTF? HAHAHAHA!

    Most obvious moment:
    Doctor: “I can’t control your diabetes, only you can control your diabetes.”
    Me: “Yeah.”
    Because, see, I know that. I do know that. Of course I know that. But what I WANT him to say is: “Here’s this little pill that will make your diabetes go away and let you eat anything you want to eat and it will also make you thin, rich and ten years younger.” But you know what? The doctors never EVER say that. Bastards.

    Upshot of visit:  I don’t need to go on insulin right now, which is good.  I still have some options.  But I’d better get my act together pretty damn fast or it’s not going to be pretty.

    So….I guess I will try to get my act together. But if somebody hears that they’ve come up with a pill to let me eat anything I want and will make me thin, rich and 10 years younger, drop me a line, okay?  Thanks.

  • Let Us Praise the Rain

    It is raining again here at the Palatial Horvath Estate, as it has so often rained in the past two months. We in the Eastern US seem to have gotten most of the rain needed by the Mid- and South- West.  But Mother Nature has blessed with an uneven hand this year. I am sorry, my Mid- and South- Westian friends, for if I could send you some of our rain, I would. Instead I can only look out, sip a warm cup of tea, and enjoy.

    Since I have nothing else planned to post today, I thought I would share a poem in praise of rain and love and nature.

     

    Beloved, Let Us Once More Praise The Rain
    by Conrad Aiken

     

    Beloved, let us once more praise the rain.
    Let us discover some new alphabet,
    For this, the often praised; and be ourselves,
    The rain, the chickweed, and the burdock leaf,
    The green-white privet flower, the spotted stone,
    And all that welcomes the rain; the sparrow too,—
    Who watches with a hard eye from seclusion,
    Beneath the elm-tree bough, till rain is done.
    There is an oriole who, upside down,
    Hangs at his nest, and flicks an orange wing,—
    Under a tree as dead and still as lead;
    There is a single leaf, in all this heaven
    Of leaves, which rain has loosened from its twig:
    The stem breaks, and it falls, but it is caught
    Upon a sister leaf, and thus she hangs;
    There is an acorn cup, beside a mushroom
    Which catches three drops from the stooping cloud.
    The timid bee goes back to the hive; the fly
    Under the broad leaf of the hollyhock
    Perpends stupid with cold; the raindark snail
    Surveys the wet world from a watery stone…
    And still the syllables of water whisper:
    The wheel of cloud whirs slowly: while we wait
    In the dark room; and in your heart I find
    One silver raindrop,—on a hawthorn leaf,—
    Orion in a cobweb, and the World.

     

  • A Place Of One’s Own


     
    I’ve been thinking about Place a lot – place in the physical sense. But place in the physical sense translates to place in the spiritual sense, I think.

    I moved away from the town where I grew up about twenty-five years ago. My mother, on the other hand, has never lived anywhere else. She’s always lived within 5 miles of where she lives now. My mother’s parents and grandparents and great-grandparents are all buried in the town cemetery. My father is buried there.

    In contrast to my mother, my father was a first-generation immigrant. He came from Hungary in 1956 during the Hungarian Revolution and settled in my mother’s town when her church sponsored him from the immigration camps.

    I often wonder if my father ever felt like the town where he lived and raised a family was his town. I wonder if he felt like the town was his place. My mother’s roots go very deep there, but did he eventually feel like he was rooted too? Or was Hungary always his place? His family lived there, died there, was buried there. His roots went very deep there. Did he ever plant himself here? I wish I could ask him.

    As for myself, I don’t know. I have deep roots in the town where my mother lives, but it’s not really my place anymore. I’ve never known Hungary, although my roots are deep there as well. I have some ties to the place where I live now, but it still feels as if I’m a visitor in a way. In the back of my mind there’s the faint expectation that I will eventually have to move on. Maybe it’s because I’ve never owned the land I’ve lived on, and so I’ve never had any power or responsibility over what happened to it.

    I don’t know if you need to have roots. I don’t know if you need to feel like you belong to one place, and that place belongs to you. I know a lot of you have moved away from the towns where you were born. What do you think? Do you feel as if you’ve planted roots where you are now? Or do you still feel like a visitor? Do we need to be rooted in one place at all? I’m just wondering…