Bird Brains and Futile Gestures by Pamela Bennett

A male robin’s dusky red breast strikes the bay window repeatedly, gray wings fluttering like prize fighter fists. The hard clackety-clunk against the glass beats into my brain. It’s impossible to concentrate at my desk.

Plants sit in front of that window, so I imagine he’s drawn by an indoor forest of ivy, philodendron, jade plants and purple queens. He sits on a branch of the weeping cherry close to the window and cocks his head, staring into the room. Just nature. Let nature take its course. But the thumps on the window get so loud that I’m sure he’ll knock himself out. I don’t want a stunned or deceased robin in the front flower bed.

I Google it, looking for credible sources. An article in Audubon Magazine states male robins stubbornly attack their reflections during nesting season in futile attempts to thwart imaginary foes.

My affinity for robins began several summers ago, when a spotted youngster befriended me as I worked at the table on my back porch. Suddenly aware of fluttering wings behind me, I turned as a young robin landed on the cat food dish, plucked a piece, then soared away.

How incredibly brave. He dashed repeatedly for dinner as I sat as still as possible. Aww. I’m feeding a sweet little bird…and a stray cat. No problem. Unless the stray cat arrives for dinner and finds a bonus treat on his dish.

The youngster eventually grew curious enough to check me out. He landed on the table next to my computer. I held my breath; he cocked his head and stared. I marveled at curious brown eyes, downy feathers, and a reddish spotted breast, He chirped and I smiled. “Hello there, little one.”

A bona fide bird miracle for one long minute. Then he was gone with a quick flutter of wings. He returned the next day and the next, so I sneaked a photo of him with my cell phone. Wish I could find that photo now, but it’s stuck in some old phone.

Because cats and birds seldom get along, the visits did not have a happy ending. When the bird failed to show up one day, I found a pile of mangled feathers in the backyard.

This time, I will save the bird. Audubon Magazine recommends taping something on the outside of the window. I try long pieces of blue carpet tape, hoping to break up a bird’s eye view.

Nope. He strikes viciously between pieces of tape.

Next, I try wrapping paper, completely covering the bird’s chosen section of the bay window. Ah…quiet at last. I work on the latest chapter of the new novel.

Clunk…clunk…clickety-clack!

No. Really?

The robin chooses the right section of the window this time, so I cover that one, too.

Problem solved. I hope the HOA will let me keep the wrapping paper up long enough to squelch the bird’s fighting spirit.

Clunk…clunk…clunk!

Oh, come on. I look up from my desk. The bird flutters in view, viciously attacking the only remaining section of the window, nowhere near the weeping cherry he picked as his nesting spot. Do I have to lose my only view out the window?

Looking at this dilemma with a wider view, I realize the stubborn robin is a lot like me. My sister and I started querying TWINLESS at 110,000 words. We thought it was finished after the novel went through beta readers and was professionally edited. We sent out queries and hoped for the best. A few kind agents mentioned the unruly length for today’s market, so my sister and I started looking at what to cut and what to keep.

At a leaner 96,000 words plus improved first pages, TWINLESS started getting full and partial requests. We’re still waiting to hear from several agents, but I’m confident we can revise and cut it down further, because we are constantly studying our craft as we work on the next novel.

My husband comes into the office to sit at his desk. His mouth drops open and he looks at me, dismayed, as he tries to peer out the window around flowered orange and white wrapping paper.

My Google search for “insanity” reveals Einstein did not say “the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.” No one seems to know who said it first.

That’s okay, if you never stop learning and improving. Stop doing the same thing repeatedly and expecting a different result.

Please...don’t be that bird!