Don Bartlett

I am Don Bartlett's cat, and I have been asked to do his bio. I say I am his cat, but believe me, no one owns a cat. I am my own cat, feline and feminine. As for him, he is a literary translator, whatever that means. I asked him, and he said translators are people who like a good story, can't write one themselves, but are bloody good at getting the most out of other people's. Hmm. By that, I think he means translators are kind of co-writers. If I have translated him correctly. I mean, we all translate, don't we? He's not that special. Anyway, I have been pawing through his shelves and can see he has translated Jo Nesbø, Ingvar Ambjørnsen and Karl Ove Knausgård. Won´t sell any books with names like that, I reckon. Too weird. And those letters – ø and å - make my eyes go funny. Oh, and a Dahl. That's more like it, someone English. Actually I have met him.  Nice man. Intelligent. Sensitive. Could smell cats on him. And the latest writer he has been doing is Grimstad. Doesn't  sound like a bundle of laughs to me, but the old boy – actually DB is younger than me, using the standard cat/human conversion table - has been laughing his Lidl socks off. And I can tell you he doesn't usually. Keep an eye on this Grimstad though. No cats in the story, but I have a sense he speaks to your inner kitten.

Woof (I'm a linguist too)


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