For the record, Buddy is an awesome dog. Loyal, affectionate, snuggly. I love him. And I’m 100% his alpha person. It’s probably less because I’m the biggest one in the house, and more because he and I are together all the time. If I leave the city and venture to the country to write, Buddy comes along. If I need to be in the city, Buddy is there. When I’m still up writing at 4am, he’s there. Subsequently when I wake up at 11am? There. In the bed. So, yeah, it’s great to have such a loyal companion, a sidekick if you will.
But you know what it’s like to have someone behind you, looking over your shoulder? You can feel their presence, lurking. How annoying is that? Extrapolate that to every minute of every day. Stalking, lingering. That’s Buddy. God bless him but he makes writing a challenge. If you’ve ever perused the interwebs about all the difficulties of writing, nowhere will you find a memo about a gigantic dog hovering over you. I’ll see your passive voice and dangling modifiers, and raise you a hulking Great Dane. Here is Buddy, in all his Dane glory.
Beautiful boy. See, that’s a normal-ish dog. Sitting peacefully on the couch, like a person. But when it’s time to write, it’s on. He makes his move.
I suppose it’s worth noting that I do not write at a desk. The floor is my friend. I don’t know why, that’s just how I’ve always done it. It’s brutal on the elbows and not so great on the back, either. A desk might mitigate some of Buddy. I should look into that.
Every time I peer back, Buddy is a little closer.
Then we transition into the “directly overhead” stage. He might be proofreading, I don’t know.
After that, he’s just all up in my business. And this goes on for hours and hours.
Eventually, even Buddy grows tired of writing.
Welcome to Buddy, my “editor.” You’ll be seeing a lot more of him on this blog. Buddy edits.