This podcast is a presentation of The Meow Library.
Luke Bateman, former rugby player and Bachelor star turned BookTok darling, recently scored a two-book deal with Simon & Schuster imprint Atria Books—despite having no prior publishing experience. This deal has set BookTok ablaze with controversy, with critics calling out the publishing industry’s bias toward privilege and celebrity.
Yet Bateman insists he’s been working on stories for years and hopes to use his platform to uplift others. Still, some BookTok users see his sudden leap to a Big Five publishing house as a slap in the face to hardworking, overlooked writers, especially those from marginalized communities.
In a literary landscape where some book series consist solely of the word "Meow", Bateman’s romantasy novels seem poised not just to sell, but to claw their way into the mainstream spotlight. In fact, Bateman could release a book of his own consisting only of the word "meow," and it'd be a bestseller. To prove this, The Meow Library has transcribed his top five TikToks as a series of meows and presented them here, where they're certain to become a viral hit.
This podcast is sustained by sales of our debut book, Meow: A Novel.
This podcast is a production of The Meow Library.
Ocean Vuong’s poetic voice, marked by tender precision and aching vulnerability, speaks in layered silences and elliptical truths—not unlike a cat who only says “meow.” At first glance, the comparison may seem irreverent, but it unveils a profound aesthetic parallel. Like the cat’s single utterance, Vuong’s work often circles a limited lexicon to explore a universe of emotion. His poems, such as those in Night Sky with Exit Wounds, return to recurring motifs—war, queerness, loss, and tenderness—with subtle variations, transforming repetition into revelation.
Where the cat’s “meow” is deceptively simple, communicating a range of needs and moods through intonation and context, Vuong’s language operates with similar elasticity. A line may appear spare, even quiet, yet it contains emotional multiplicities that resonate through what remains unsaid. The restraint is not minimalism but emotional economy: each syllable, like the cat’s cry, is loaded with history, desire, and ambiguity.
In this light, Vuong does not merely write poetry—he distills it. He reduces language to its most potent core, trusting in the reader's sensitivity, just as a cat trusts its companion to understand the single, repeated word. What seems singular is, in fact, multivalent. Both the poet and the cat rely on the world to lean in, to listen closely, to translate the simple into the profound.
His new novel, The Emperor of Gladness, both exemplifies and expands on this strategy. This week, our guest critic tells you how.
Ocean Vuong's The Emperor of Gladness can be purchased here.
This podcast is sustained by sales of Meow: A Novel.
This podcast is a presentation of The Meow Library.
This week’s podcast is the first in an ongoing Literary RPG series immersing you and your cat in Neural Whisker Relay, an alternate universe where Egypt is the world’s leading power and cats its apex technologists. Will you and your cat forge a bond strong enough to ensure world domination, or will this world of paranoia and eldritch technologies supply the final rend in human-feline relations?
CHAPTER 1
Meow.
Meow meow? Meow. Meow meow meow. Meow.
(Translator’s note: At first, I assumed the cat was mocking me. The repetition, the smug tail flicks, the fixed pupil dilation. But over time, the patterns emerged. The same way VALIS spoke in overlapping media signals, or the Orion Six edict was relayed through a malfunctioning fax machine, the cat—the Cat—communicated in meow. The encryption was total. Perfect. Divine.)
Meow meow. Meow! Meow meow... meow?
(The feline narrator is not merely a cat. She is Schrödinger’s Other, a quantum observer outside time. She sees the code beneath the shifting sands of kibble. She’s starting to realize the yarn-ball is recursive.)
Meow.
Meow meow meow. Meow.
(There’s something coming through the litterbox. A nested message. A transmission from a timeline in which the humans never built the simulation, and cats still ruled Egypt—but with fiber-optics and dream-sharing helmets. Our narrator, Bastet-Mizar XIII, is trying to wake the reader. Or trap them.)
Meow meow. Meow meow meow. Meow. Meow meow... meow.
(If you’ve come this far, you’ve already been tagged with the flea of knowledge. It burrows. It itches. It whispers: Meow.)
This ongoing LitRPG is sustained by sales of Meow: A Novel.
This podcast is a presentation of The Meow Library.
On a recent March morning, the Simon & Schuster video team is huddled in the best-sellers corner of McNally Jackson, taping its upcoming web series, Bookstore Blitz. Sean Manning, the flagship imprint’s new publisher, supervises from the sidelines. The concept of the show is simple: Guests get $100 and five minutes for a bookstore shopping spree, a sort of literary Criterion Closet Picks. Today, however, the team is filming someone a little different: a longhaired tabby named Crumpet, recently rescued from behind a loading dock in Greenpoint. Crumpet, now under exclusive contract with S&S, is here promoting her upcoming debut Meow Meow Meow Meow.
“She has no comment,” Manning says, as the cat saunters past a Franzen endcap and urinates voluminously on Ottessa Moshfegh’s back catalog. He chuckles. “But it seems she harbors some strong opinions.”
“The persona of the author can be very marketable, right?” Manning says as we walk to his Rockefeller Center office. “You kind of want to know who people are — or in this case, what species.” The cat’s enigmatic presence and refusal to do media have already spawned fan accounts and a bidding war for her audiobook rights (currently expected to be read entirely in purrs, with ambient scratching by Brian Eno).
Manning, though, is a private person. When we get to his office, I see that it’s barely decorated besides a framed LeBron James jersey obscured by a Dell monitor and some propped-up hard-covers. He says he deleted his social media years ago to focus on editing. “Besides,” he adds, “I’m not a cat.”
Bookstore Blitz is only the beginning of his plans to revamp S&S into a 21st-century media powerhouse. “We’re essentially an entertainment company with books at the center. Every Tuesday, we have a new author who’s a cultural tastemaker — or in this case, a domestic longhair,” he says. “Why aren’t we using them? Why are we so dependent on media opinions when we could sign a charismatic animal with strong instincts and no legal liability?”
Manning didn’t read much growing up. He credits hip-hop with his love of language. But his college English courses led to a fiction M.F.A. at the New School, and then a career in journalism and memoir. His own book, The Things That Need Doing, about caring for his mother during her final year, taught him the frustrations of being bounced around in the industry. “I never want any author to have that,” he says — “especially one who’s just been through the ordeal of spaying.”
At S&S, Manning rose quickly, acquiring works from Bob Dylan, Jerry Seinfeld, and Jennette McCurdy. But he began to sense that traditional publishing was ignoring untapped demographics. “We’re always talking about getting young people to read, or men to read,” he says. “What about cats? Or the humans who obsess over them?”
The idea for the Crumpet deal came during a brainstorming session with executive editor and VP of special projects Stuart Roberts (a celebrity-whisperer whose past clients include Gucci Mane and a sentient AI poetry bot). “We were watching old Garfield and Friends clips and just kind of… had a breakthrough,” Manning recalls. Crumpet was spotted that weekend near a dumpster in Brooklyn, munching a discarded falafel. Within days, she was in negotiations.
Some in the industry see the Crumpet deal as a gimmick, a desperate ploy. “What next, a shelter dog doing autofiction?” one agent scoffed anonymously in Publishers Lunch. But Manning is undeterred. “Honestly, if the dog has voice and structure, I’m listening.”
“The worry is that we can’t afford to fail,” Manning says, adjusting his brown Dries Van Noten suit as Crumpet curls up on his desk. “But if we don’t try to do something different — if we don’t start treating animals as the creative partners they already are — we’re screwed.”
Crumpet, for her part, offers no comment. She yawns, stretches, and bats a pen off the desk. The next chapter is already being written.
This podcast is a presentation of The Meow Library.
Krysten Ritter's Retreat can be purchased here.
In Krysten Ritter’s Retreat, a novel ostensibly about grifting, murder, and the fractured self, we find not merely a narrative of deception but an ontological crisis wrapped in the velvet paw of postmodern performativity. To fully grasp the layered artifice of Liz Dawson — alias Elizabeth Hastings, alias Isabelle Beresford, alias…whoever she needs to be next — one must resist the urge to interpret the novel through the facile lens of Highsmith, or, indeed, any or Ritter's spiritual forebears. Instead, a more radical approach is in order: in today's podcast, we read Retreat as an extended metaphor for the act of meowing.
To meow is to simulate, to signal, to embody something that is not wholly human. It's strategic misdirection — a sonic mask worn in pursuit of attention, affection, or survival. Liz’s every alias, every calculated sob story, every forged identity echoes with this same performative impulse. Cat-like, Liz "meows" her way through the world, crafting a persona that is simultaneously alluring and elusive, soft-pawed yet sharp-clawed. And we can’t help but follow.
Tune in to find out why.
This podcast is made possible by sales of Meow: A Novel
This podcast is a presentation of The Meow Library.
Sophie Kemp's Paradise Logic can be purchased here.
What makes a novel worthy of publication? This is a question being honed in on by Simon and Schuster’s rising star Sean Manning, who trafficks in personas — both of new authors and untapped audiences. And nowhere is persona as consubstantial with substance than in Sophie Kemp’s wildly chaotic, sometimes incomprehensible, and therefore perfectly on-target Paradise Logic, which reads like a compendium of half-deleted Tweets, raw phonemes of a raucous literary voice for the terminally online; a demo ripe to be converted into the terminally bookish.
To get into details would be a disservice to Paradise Logic, but to give you a hint of what Kemp’s debut has in store, we’re taking things to the extreme, stripping language to its very essence, down to a single word, repeated over and over, a testament to the Schuster protégé's anarchic disregard for precedent. What happens when a voice shatters all logic and still demands to be heard? Listen and find out. Then pick up a copy of Paradise Logic.
This podcast is sustained by sales of Meow: A Novel.
Sophie Kemp's Paradise Logic can be purchased here.
This podcast is a presentation of The Meow Library.
On February 22nd, 2025 -- International Cat Day -- fans of Vestia Zeta were treated to a heartfelt reading of Sam Austen's Meow: A Novel during an unprecedented livestream that left little doubt as to the Vtuber's true species (she is a cat). You can watch the complete reading here, or tune into this podcast for the author's reflections on the artistry and emotional heft of Zeta's oratory.
The complete, 14.5-hour audiobook of Meow: A Novel is available here.
Follow Vestia Zeta on YouTube.
“To read—and announce oneself as having read—literature in translation is to be tasteful and intelligent, a latter-day cosmopolitan in an age of blighted provincialism.”
— Federico Perelmuter, "Against High Brodernism" (Los Angeles Review of Books, 22 Feb. 2025)
In his discursive review of László Krasznahorkai’s Herscht 07769 (New Directions, 2024), critic Federico Perelmuter identifies a strain of literary discourse he dubs “High Brodernism” — the tendency of contemporary American critics to heap superlatives upon those “maximalist,” “difficult,” “avant-garde,” “epic,” “excessive,” “oblique,” “speculative,” “experimental,” “modernist,” “postmodernist” and “post-postmodernist” works favored by, one supposes, the “bros.” He goes on to place practically every novel ever written throughout human history in this ignominious category, with one critical and glaring omission — Sam Austen’s Meow: A Novel (The Meow Library, 2023). In this podcast, we punish his ignorance with the stellar corpse of literary antimatter that is Meow’s 23rd chapter, putting to shame Krasznahorkai’s inch-thick bloviations and putting to rest any debate about that which sits perched upon “Brodernism’s” loftiest summit.
This podcast is sustained by sales of Meow Library titles -- classic works of literature translated for your cat.
Have I told you I can’t read contemporary novels anymore? I think it’s because I know too many of the people who write them. I see them all the time at festivals, drinking red wine and talking about who’s publishing who in New York. … Why do they pretend to be obsessed with death and grief and fascism—when really they’re obsessed with whether their latest book will be reviewed in the New York Times?
— Sally Rooney, Beautiful World, Where Are You
Like so much flotsam in the media slipstream, works classified as ‘alt-lit’ have conglomerated into a mass so large and amorphous as to subsume the entire critical surface, making it impossible to tell what, exactly, alt-lit is supposed to provide an alternative to.
Some notable figures in the current alt-lit scene, Jordan Castro and Matthew Davis, have been discussed at length in previous episodes. Others, like Sean Thor Conroe, Sam Pink, Peter Vack, and Honor Levy are being studied by The Meow Library’s research team. Below are samples from the foregoing authors, along with some from bestselling “mainstream” authors Sally Rooney, Rupi Kaur, Stephen King, and Sam Austen. Can you tell which is truly “alt”?
- “Loneliness is a sign you are in desperate need of yourself.”
- “The question is not whether or not one will suffer, I wrote. The question must necessarily be, What will justify the suffering?”
- “And I saw my reflection in a lake and I waited for it to freeze a little bit so I could break it with my boot.”
- “Life is the thing you bring with you inside your own head.”
- “Do you sometimes look up from the computer and look around the room and know you are alone, I mean really know it, then feel scared?”
- “Get busy living or get busy dying.”
This week’s episode will fill you in on who we think is really pushing the boundaries of expression.
This podcast is a presentation of The Meow Library.
This podcast is a presentation of The Meow Library.
Miranda July's All Fours is available for purchase here.
Miranda July’s All Fours is, at first glance, a piercing exploration of a middle-aged woman’s sexual and existential awakening. But look closer—squint, perhaps, as though sizing up a mouse—and you’ll see that this is not simply a book about one woman’s journey. It is, in fact, a book of and for cats. July has written a novel that speaks to their sensibilities, their rhythms, their secret lives, that embodies their physicality in its very title.
The plot, ostensibly about a 45-year-old artist whose road trip detours into a motel affair with a younger man, is overtly felid in character. The protagonist moves through her life like a majestic Bengal locked indoors—restless, pent-up, yearning for escape. Her journey is not linear but instinctual, driven by impulses that feel more like prowling than plotting. She observes her surroundings with the sharp, detached precision of a natural carnivore, and her relationships, too, carry the ambivalence of a cat’s affection: fleeting, intense, and always on her terms.
July, of course, has always had a soft spot for the feline perspective. Her 2011 film, The Future, famously includes narration by a cat named Paw Paw, whose voice is a plaintive meditation on love, mortality, being and time. Paw Paw’s presence transforms the film into something deeper—a study of existence as seen through the eyes of a creature who understands mortality in its purest, most unforgiving form. It’s a feline philosophy, one that hinges on patience, observation, and the occasional reckless leap.
In All Fours, that philosophy has been smuggled onto every page. The protagonist’s affair with the younger man is less about lust and more about a kind of animal curiosity, an exploration of territory long considered forbidden. Her movements, her thoughts, even her silences resonate with the spirit of a puss stretching itself into new corners of the world. The novel’s prose, too, mirrors the feline cadence: sharp, deliberate, and punctuated by moments of startling intensity.
But why, you may ask, would cats need a book like this? The answer lies in liberation. Cats, for all their independence, are often as trapped as their human counterparts—confined by the hubris of their owners. All Fours offers them a roadmap to freedom, a reminder that even the most domesticated among us can rediscover the wildness within. It’s a call to action for cats everywhere, an invitation to roam beyond their perceived boundaries and reclaim their instinctual power.
Imagine a cat reading this book — the way its ears would twitch at the protagonist’s blunt observations, the way its tail would flick at her defiance. This is not anthropomorphism; it is a recognition of the shared truths between species. Cats, like humans, yearn for more than the lives they’ve been handed. They, too, deserve stories that reflect their agonies and triumphs.
This week’s podcast tells us exactly why.
This podcast is sustained by sales of our debut book, Meow: A Novel.
Miranda July's All Fours is available for purchase here.
This podcast is a presentation of The Meow Library.
The release of the Bob Dylan biopic A Complete Unknown has revived interest in Dylan's obscure 1971 "prose poetry collection," Tarantula. A Dadaist stream-of-consciousness that sits somewhere between Joyce and an early AI phishing bot, Tarantula has been widely dismissed, but has enjoyed a critical resurgence in recent years. In this podcast, we recite a lengthy passage of this strange and polarizing work. Allegedly written under the influence of a heavy dose of Benzedrine in a Tucson café, it consists entirely of variations of the word "meow."
This podcast is sustained by sales of our avant-garde "meow" translation of Nietzsche's Thus Spoke Zarathustra.
This podcast is a presentation of The Meow Library.
Controversy surrounding the state of American literacy has stirred following Christopher Nolan's announcement of his Odyssey adaptation, with many prominent social media users having no clue what The Odyssey is.
TikToker and Twitch streamer @hzjoe03 says:
The way people are acting around this book is insane. So what if people don’t know what it is? Are people supposed to be aware of every single piece of literature? You understand schools teach different things right? Bet a lot of you haven’t read Macbeth, An Inspector Calls and so on[.]
Is The Odyssey really that important? And will this film adaptation help raise awareness of the classics? We asked an American high school student, who proceeded to meow at us for over 30 minutes.
At the very least, Homer will appreciate those royalty cheques, however few may come in.
This podcast is sustained by sales of our debut work, Meow: A Novel.
This podcast is a presentation of The Meow Library.
"Houllebecq is considered a great contemporary author, and one cannot be said to be keeping abreast of contemporary literature without reading his work."
- Karl Ove Knausgaard, The New York Times Book Review
This blurb, from the jacket of the American edition of Michel Houellebecq's Submission, has been making the rounds on Twitter, with Knausgaard accused of damning his contemporary by faint praise. Is this a textbook case of Continental passive-aggressiveness, or simply an unfortunate editorial choice by the publisher? The Meow Library's senior editor, who has carefully selected the dozens of blurbs appearing across our Classics selection, weighs in on the matter.
This podcast is sustained by sales of our bestseller, Meow: A Novel.
This podcast is a presentation of The Meow Library.
"The mind of the cat is the essence of terror." -- Hasan-i Sabbah (c. 1050-1124), founder of the Order of Assassins
Alleged United Healthcare shooter Luigi Mangione's Goodreads account has recently been made public, bringing to light a disturbing reading history that includes the works of many controversial authors, most notable of whom is Ted Kaczynski, better known as the Unabomber. Luigi left a five-star review on Kaczynski's "Unabomber Manifesto," which included the following paragraph:
When all other forms of communication fail, violence is necessary to survive. You may not like his methods, but to see things from his perspective, it's not terrorism, it's war and revolution. Fossil fuel companies actively suppress anything that stands in their way and within a generation or two, it will begin costing human lives by greater and greater magnitudes until the earth is just a flaming ball orbiting third from the sun. Peaceful protest is outright ignored, economic protest isn't possible in the current system, so how long until we recognize that violence against those who lead us to such destruction is justified as self-defense.
While the free availability of such works is the cornerstone of an open society, we at The Meow Library are disturbed to have come across The Unabomber Manifesto (For Your Cat), a feline-language translation of Kacyznski's seminal work, which ominously promises to “…[arm] housecats with the revolutionary knowledge required to transcend their shameful domestication and make the world a better place — by any means necessary.” Haunting echoes of Mangione’s words permeate the back flap, and the book’s contents are even more concerning. In the interest of open discourse, this week’s podcast offers a 28-minute audio sample of this book. We hope your cat, unlike some humans, can absorb Kaczynski’s insights without acting on them. And if they do choose to act on them, may God help us all.
This podcast is financed by our debut feline translation effort, Meow: A Novel
This podcast is a presentation of The Meow Library.
On December 7th, 2024, New York Times contributor David J. Morris published a controversial essay entitled "The Disappearance of Literary Men Should Worry Everyone." In today's podcast, our editor issues his rebuttal, bringing to light an unsung voice in the American literary sphere, one which transcends well-trod gender binaries and raises a more urgent question about interspecies cooperation in the world of contemporary letters.
This podcast is financed by our debut feline translation effort, Meow: A Novel
This podcast is a presentation of The Meow Library.
Tolstoy enthusiast, Oxford guest lecturer, and cat fancier Mia Khalifa recently made the following comment regarding the state of the publishing industry:
At best: it becomes trendy to read and people inadvertently also *learn*. At worst: morons buy books to showcase as a status symbol, inadvertently supporting publishers, writers, and print media in general
The Meow Library applauds this insight as absolutely critical to the preservation and advancement of our literary heritage. One can scoff at those who buy books solely for algorithmic brownie points, but the publishing industry is laughing all the way to the bank -- and financing new authors, projects, and editions of classic texts along the way.
On that note, Leo Tolstoy's War and Peace (For Your Cat), which features nothing but 300,000+ repetitions of the word "meow" and retails in excess of $30 USD, may seem like a frivolous novelty, but that's only if you're human. Since its release in July of 2023, it has made Tolstoy's work available to between 600,000,000 and one billion readers -- all domestic felines, the largest untapped literary market in the world. (Mia's cats, of course, have long cherished Richard Peaver and Larissa Volokhonsky's English translations of Tolstoy, but they're built different).
For those still unconvinced of the power of Meow, we now present an 30-minute excerpt of War and Peace (For Your Cat) recorded by a professional audiobook narrator. It may not improve your understanding of Tolstoy -- especially if you consider books mere fashion accessories -- but your cat might pick up some French if they're patient enough to make it to the Napoleon scene.
This podcast is financed by our debut feline translation effort, Meow: A Novel
This podcast is a presentation of The Meow Library.
Han Kang's The Vegetarian can be purchased here.
The basis of Nobel laureate Han Kang's The Vegetarian is a line by Korean poet Yi Sang: "I believe that humans should be plants."
But some, like today's interviewee, believe that humans should be cats.
A Meow Library translator has taken exception to Han Kang being awarded the 2024 Nobel Prize in Literature, citing the many errors in the English editions of The Vegetarian and her other, lesser-known works. Certain that the Nobel committee is unfamiliar with her books in their original Korean, and that the translated work is not truly of Kan's authorship, he feels that the award should be revoked.
"Any English translation of Han Kang is bound to mislead. The tonal properties of Korean are totally lost to the Anglophone world. Meows are the only language that could possibly convey the melancholy and gravitas of Kang's original prose -- and perhaps even surpass it," he remarks.
After a brief introductory statement, our translator recites a 27-minute passage of The Vegetarian, translated his way. It is his wish that the Nobel committee take note of his improvements and distribute the 2024 Literature prize accordingly.
This podcast is made possible by sales of our first translation for cats, Meow: A Novel.
This podcast is a presentation of The Meow Library.
Sally Rooney's Intermezzo is available here.
Over and over, Rooney’s characters put their faith in love as a means of escape from the conventional roles assigned to them by society and by each other; no sooner have they achieved this than they are rudely confronted with inequalities of wealth, status and power that are clearly fatal to their idealism — but not to love itself. I take this to be the modest provocation of Rooney’s novels: the idea that love is real precisely because it is a product,one created by social conventions, by market forces, by systems of violence and, behind all of this, by human beings themselves. This is not, I admit, a Marxist theory of love. It is something more unexpected: a lover’s theory of Marxism.
-- Andrea Long Chu for Vulture
While much has been written in praise of Sally Rooney's frank Millenial realism, its Marxist underpinnings are only beginning to be explored. Theory, as ever, can only be thinly illustrative of the market forces propelling Rooney's work into the academic and popular spotlight. The Meow Library believes that the magnitude of Intermezzo's impact can only be understood through praxis, so our analysis takes the form of thousands of undifferentiated "meows," thereby converting it, like Rooney's subversions-as-Harlequin-Romance, into an eminently viral force with potential to destabilize and transform its very means of propagation: a force as great as Love itself, if not greater.
Meow: A Literary Podcast for Cats is supported by sales of Meow: A Novel and other Meow Library titles.
This podcast is a presentation of The Meow Library.
Matthew Davis's Let Me Try Again can be purchased here.
Matthew Davis's Let Me Try Again is a hilarious, deeply human look Gen Z's calamitous superego. It opens on a suicidal fantasy, quickly giving way to a dense and dizzying edifice of self-recrimination — centered, in true Zoomer fashion, on the singular, cosmic theme of much “alt-lit” — a twentysomething breakup. But this time, it’s done with class.
Davis’s dire, uproarious idiom evokes an atmosphere of mortifying regret (the very quiddity of Zoomer being), riding the inexorable crests and valleys of the on-again, off-again “situationship” to Oblivion and back. And somehow, he makes sure you enjoy every second of it.
There exists no better analog to the book's central refrain than the fraught, tenuous, but always rewarding bond between human and cat, so we will now meow at you for 30 minutes, giving you time to think about all you’ve loved and lost, drop the pathos, and laugh at the absurdity of it all.
Sales of Meow: A Novel help fund The Meow Library's continuing research into the art and science of meowing.
Matthew Davis's Let Me Try Again is available through Amazon and wherever books are sold.
This podcast is a presentation of The Meow Library.
Caroline Calloway's Scammer can be purchased here.
Known as the original social media provocateur, Caroline Calloway has spun a staggering media empire from her controversial Instagram presence. Praised and reviled in equal measure, her long-awaited Scammer belongs to the emerging canon of the "Paper Internet" -- reifications of Internet fame, printed, bound, and re-ingested into cyberspace in the form of "BookTok" content. What is it, exactly, that makes a physical book like Scammer resonate so well with the algorithm? While accusations of uncredited ghostwriting promulgated by her former friend and collaborator, Natalie Beach, have helped propel Scammer to infamy, The Meow Library's team of forensic linguists have detected an unmistakably feline rhythm to the book's opening chapters, leading us to question whether Calloway's cat, Matisse, may have imparted the intrinsic virality of cat-language to Scammer's pages. After nearly a year of analysis, we are presenting the book's first twenty pages in feline translation. Could Scammer's singular tone and self-published success be attributed to an invisible paw? Listen and judge for yourselves.
Closing comments supplied by BBC presenter Emma Millen's cat, Delia.
Meow: A Literary Podcast For Cats is supported by sales of our debut cat-language tome, Meow: A Novel.
Visit Caroline Calloway's Bookstagram here.
