Creativity is a cat that curls up at my feet when I’m in bed at night. She sleeps so sweetly, keeping me company in my dreams and assuring me that in the morning, my mojo will still be there. Then, suddenly, just as I’ve fallen into a delicious dream, she jumps all over me and wakes me up, miaowing and hissing and scratching at my face. Why didn’t you make it funnier?! That title was rubbish. NO ONE’S going to read your stupid stuff! What you really should do is this, come … And then off she goes, pulling me by the scruff of my neck into stinky alleyways, up rickety rooftops and down damp drain-pipes, in search I have no idea what, for hours and hours, until finally she drops me off back in bed, utterly exhausted but vaguely searching for a pencil and paper before I mercifully fall back to sleep. And in the morning, my face drawn in shadows and lines by a sleepless night and when I could really do with a cuddle, she’s gone.
Kitty in bed. Reproduced by kind permission of Elizabeth Rubin.
Leila Gray 