If I had my own magazine...

Nancy on wheels

The weather's turned rainy recently but, like a true pro, I have stoically continued with my punishing schedule of promotional activities around town. There have been times, however, when damp-induced physical discomfort has almost got the better of me.

Last night, for instance, I returned home after an evening's tour of duty whereupon my owners were kind enough to remark that I 'looked like a drowned rat'. I felt like shouting 'let's not forget which member of this household has the book deal and is therefore paying the bills!' But instead I opted for the passive-aggressive response, and tracked muddy pawprints across every dry/clean/soft surface I could find, finishing with a full-body twist'n'shake in front of the TV screen.

Their comment got me thinking, however, that there must be a more comfortable way of raising my profile: one that doesn't involve pounding the streets on all fours, in all weathers.

And then it hit me. I need a Nancymobile! That way I can be driven around, like the Pope, in a manner befitting my stature and gravitas, protected from the elements but on full view to my adoring public. A megaphone could be used to alert people to my imminent arrival ('Nancy's coming. Lock the dog in the kitchen and open the tuna.') I would be able to increase the range of my personal appearances to the other side of town, and beyond! And my fans will no longer feel obliged to drive me home themselves, as they will know my chauffeur (owner) is on hand for the return journey.

This is, surely, what they call a 'no-brainer'?

I shall tell my owners the good news tonight.

Don't call me fat...

As my book publication date approaches, I'm getting used to my owners being summoned to various meetings about my burgeoning career. Last week, it was a publicity meeting with my publishers. This week, it was the accountant's turn.

Apparently, as a feline-mogul-in-waiting I should have my own limited company. Partly for complicated (and, frankly, boring) tax reasons, but mostly to safeguard my financial affairs (ie keep my assets safe from the grasping hands of my owners). Naturally, I was delighted when my owners conveyed the news to me that I am to become a Director of Nancy, Inc.

To my mind, this company could mark the beginning of brand Nancy. I'm picturing merchandising, sponsorship deals, super-injunctions...

All things considered, I'm rather looking forward to being a Fat Cat.

Nancy the Movie

As the publication date for my memoir approaches, my time is increasingly taken up with demands of a marketing nature. My excellent US publishers are orchestrating a multimedia publicity campaign, once facet of which is a promotional video starring, of course, me. Film actress is one of the few strings still lacking from my professional bow, so I jumped at the chance to star in my very own biopic.


Let me tell you, being a movie star is not as easy as it looks. Finding my motivation was the easy part. It was the production team (my owners), and the technology which let me down. Several of my 'artistic visions' had to be disregarded due to budgetary constraints (I tried telling them that you get what you pay for, but to no avail). Apparently casts of thousands, elaborate special effects and state-of-the-art post production techniques are out of the question. Ditto a soundtrack featuring copyrighted music. Ditto CGI animation. Ditto professional on-set catering. You get the picture.


What I do have is a laptop, my imagination, and two owners who claim they want to help but seem to spend most of their time telling me what I can't do. If I'm honest with you, the atmosphere at Nancy HQ is starting to get somewhat tense. Having done my bit and produced a simple but effective storyboard, I left the humans to get to grips with the minutiae of the editing software. How hard can that be, right? Judging by the looks on their faces when I returned home at the end of the night, they had failed dismally to fulfil their end of the bargain.


Now they're driving me mad with their incessant demands - to sit in certain places, to pull certain facial expressions, to be awake when they decide to shout 'action'. They have no idea how to handle 'talent'. One of them had the cheek to say working with me is like working with Charlie Sheen. They should be careful what they wish for: I've got quite a rant brewing inside me, and it would only take one ill-timed 'can we just try that again?' for me to unleash my own violent torpedo of truth.


I've had enough. I slipped out of the house yesterday during a break in filming and have not been home since. I'll go back when they've calmed down and are able to conduct themselves in a professional manner. Right now, I need to be alone.

Nancy TV

I spent last week incarcerated at the cattery (sharing a hutch with Pip. Say no more.) In between the usual cattery pastimes (yowling at the staff, sleeping, yowling at the other cat inmates, sleeping, just yowling) I found a new way to while away the time: devising reality TV formats for cats. As something of a connoisseur of the human reality TV genre, I am convinced that many shows would benefit from feline reversioning.

Here are some of my favourites:

Pimp my Pride
Feline stylist Nan-C (me) helps a tom-cat whose alpha status is at risk because his pride of females is looking frumpy. I work some makeover magic - a little back-combing here, a mani/pedi there - and voila! the ladies are smokin' hot and rockin' da hood again. Alpha status restored.*

Jersey Paws
Observational documentary series about the notoriously brash cats of Jersey Shore, New York. Featuring big fur, big muscles, big personalities, and accents you could strip walls with. Not for the faint-hearted.

Nancy's New BFF
Feline socialite Nancy (you guessed it) travels the country looking for a new 'best feline friend' in the ultimate feline friendship test. The 16 candidates have to prove they can party but also that they have taste and class. Game on, bitches!

My Big Cat Gypsy Wedding
Lions and tigers from a travelling circus tie the knot in a frenzy of fake tan and pink taffetta.

How to Lick Cod Naked
Pretty self-explanatory, this one. A vital life-skill for any gourmet feline.

Five strong ideas, I'm sure you'll agree. I can't wait to hear back from the TV networks I have sent them to.

Now I just need to get the cattery to install a 40 inch flat-screen in my hutch and I'll be happy to book in for another week. Even Pip can come, as long as he brings the popcorn.



*OK I know this is not the most politically correct format, but that never stopped anyone from watching a reality show, right?

Feline bete noir: the cat flap

I sometimes think humans don't appreciate how tough life can be for us cats. You think all we do all day is sleep, eat, and kill things and, by and large, you are right, but you fail to appreciate the many irritants, inadequacies and shortcomings which we tolerate on a daily basis.

As a writer, my requirements are simple. I need access to the computer, I need comfortable sleeping quarters, and I need to be able to get outside quickly to answer the call of nature (or if I have seen a juicy wren or blackbird boucing across the lawn).

There is only one thing standing between me and aforesaid avian snack, and it has nothing to do with my hunting prowess. It is the cat flap.

Could someone please tell me who invented this device, because I would like to send them a sharply worded email.

Can you imagine an episode of Dragons' Den in which some wide-eyed inventor turns up with a human equivalent of the cat flap: a hinged plastic window which you have to force open with your head?

The Dragons wouldn't even give it the time of day.

A method of entering and exiting in which the plastic flap either swings back and hits you on the nose on your way out, or catches the tip of your tail on your way in - is that really the best design humankind could come up with?

Would it be impossible to invent a device, say, with sliding doors which sense your approach and slide open in readiness for you? Perhaps with an accompanying announcement for human owners: 'Attention! Incoming feline! Prepare bowl of cat crunchies!'

Now that's an invention I would invest in. But until then, to quote the Dragons, 'I'm out' (with a sore tail and bruised nose).

I'm back!

Have you missed me?

In case you were unaware, I have spent the last few months toiling away on my memoirs, due for publication this year.*

The book is nearly finished - I'm just doing final edits with the help of my long-suffering editor in the US. She's learning fast, for a human.
I won't give too much away but I'm confident there's something in it for everyone - tears, laughter, romance, hairballs...

Meanwhile, I have decided to make an early start on my marketing strategy, and have set up a Fan page for myself on Facebook (under 'Nancy the Cat'). I rather like the idea of having 'fans', I think it sets a good precedent for the future. I struggled with which category to select, though. So many of them seemed to apply: public figure, writer, comedian, entertainer. I opted for 'writer' in the end, although I was rather tempted by 'monarch'.

So with a bit of luck the book will be finished and off to the printers soon, and I will have more time on my paws for my blog. I must say it is liberating to be able to write what I like without having to run it past an editor first, and see it come back with comments in the margin saying 'I don't get it. Is this meant to be funny?'

I joke of course. It's all funny!

Prepare yourselves for the onslaught of my publicity campaign. It's coming soon...

*Sex and the Kitty, available in all good book stores, Autumn 2011