Handwork – Page 55 – Deborah Makarios

February 23, 2014

Change Is In the Air

Not the largess sort, however, as pleasant as that might be. I always wondered: who first thought that flinging chunks of metal into the air over people’s heads is a good way to distribute munificence? Even lolly scrambles can be lethal if the hard-boiled element is introduced. However…

It has not escaped my attention that this coming week contains my final five days at the DDJ. And once the first spasm of Tigger impressions fades out, I’m planning a few changes (including to the blog, so keep an eye out).

To begin with, alarms. My two-alarm system has seen me jerked awake at 6:30 and 6:45 every weekday morning for – er, a long time. No more of that, thank you! In fact, I am thinking of becoming rather less of a clock-watcher all round – having a progression rather than a programme to my days.

Then a nice purgy spring clean (early autumn, but let us not quibble – it’ll be spring somewhere) which will hopefully get rid of all the dreck and detritus which has built up in the absence of suitable quantities of time and energy.

The next step is to acquire a desk. Christina Rossetti may have made do with the corner of her washstand, but, well, I’m not Christina Rossetti.

Monday writings were usually accomplished with a board over my knees, and before that I sat sideways to my rather nice little bedside table, but never yet have I had a writing desk I can sit at and get my knees under. And it has to be the right sort of desk. I may be fussy, but if I’m going to be spending hours every day with this piece of furniture, it needs to be something I at least like.

Plus it’s a brilliant excuse to go trawling through all the second-hand shops – and since I don’t have to fit everything into Saturday morning, there’s plenty of time to consider the options and not get pushed by time and tiredness into buying something that isn’t really what I wanted, but happened to be what they had.

With so many changes imminent, you might say I am turning over a new leaf.

Ahahahaha… Sorry. I won’t do it again. For at least another paragraph. Probably.

As well as a greatly increased writing output, I am also aiming to spend more time on handwork, have people over for meals more often, and even spend more time on housework and gardening.

I know, the best-laid plans of mice and men – don’t involve being eaten by cats, and yet…
Until next week (if the cats don’t get me),
Sinistra Inksteyne

February 9, 2014

the Master Metaphor

I recently read The Creative Compass by Dan Millman and Sierra Prasada, and came across the really rather interesting idea of the Master Metaphor. To quote:

“At some point in your life, perhaps more than once, you achieved something, despite the odds against it, because of a longing or determination that you can’t fully explain. It might be a skill that initially seemed out of reach or a one-time accomplishment: jumping off the high diving board, delivering a speech at a school assembly, or travelling to a distant country. That experience, as distinguished by the inexplicable feeling that accompanied it, forms your Master Metaphor.”

It doesn’t have to be an accomplishment that the world deems great, it just has to be something that was hard but you did anyway. A symbol of your ability to succeed against whatever’s pushing the other way – tiredness, lack of ability, your own character flaws.
It’s the ace up your sleeve you pull out when the chips are down. (Mixed metaphor? Not sure.) I did that, I can do this, you tell yourself.

It took me a while to figure out what my Master Metaphor could be, given my propensity for giving up if I don’t get it right the first time, a besetting flaw if ever there was one.
Then it came to me. Socks.

Not the sort Polly Oliver uses to -er, bolster her male impersonation, nor yet the shortened form of ‘Socrates’ with which Walter Judson tries to maintain a philosophic calm on the golf course.

To be precise, turning the heel when knitting a pair of socks. I have mentioned before how long it took me to figure out how to do it, even with a clear and simple pattern to hand. I’m surprised I persevered, given that I had no pressing need to knit socks, only a pressing desire, and that much shaken by repeated failure.

The problem was that I couldn’t see how what I was doing was going to produce the desired result. I couldn’t visualise how it all went together, so in the end I just had to carry on in faith that it would turn (pardon the pun) into a heel. And it did.

That’s a good metaphor for writing right there. You get your structure sorted (the pattern) and then you just keep going even if it looks like nothing on earth, trusting that it will come out the right shape if you just keep going.

So what’s your Master Metaphor? And do you know any good patterns for socks?

February 1, 2014

Are You Obsessed?

I’ve always had obsessions. Some idea or project or subject will suddenly loom large in my mind and I can’t stop thinking about it. For a while, anyway.

For some reason I’ve always thought that if the obsession wasn’t going to last I should quell it as much as possible. Obsessions do pass (although some are recurring) and it seemed wasteful to pour so much time and energy into something I’d have moved on from in a few weeks’ time.

In my youth (all right, even now) I enjoyed completing questionnaires which purported to tell you something about yourself, whether serious (Myers-Briggs) or not (What Punctuation Mark Are You?*).

It was after completing one of the never-occasionally-sometimes-often-always variety that I realised I had only one ‘always’: when you are interested in something, do you want to read up on it?
Yes. Frequently more than I want to actually do the thing itself, which seems silly but saves a great deal of investment in short-lived fads.

I’ve had obsessions of various lengths with millinery, embroidery, steampunk, jesters, historical costuming and various periods of history including the fall of Tsarist Russia, Anglo-Saxon England, the Regency era and the social history of World War II – among other things.
And it all goes into the files for later, although as Kristen Lamb points out, writers tend to be ‘Masters of “Things Few Know and Fewer Care About”.’

I recall reading yet another book of self-understanding-through-classification which described people who collect information (this is me, I thought) showing their love for others by sharing bits of their collection with them. So to all who I have ever bored with random snippets of knowledge you never cared to know: I love you.

And then I came across this quote from Tamora Pierce: “The best way to prepare to have ideas when you need them is to listen to and encourage your obsessions.”
The relief! The validation! Importantly, not only can obsessions be useful to the writing life, but it isn’t just me. It’s lots of us. It could even be you.
So how do you tell if you have acquired a Writer’s Obsession? A questionnaire, of course 😀

1) Are you lying awake dreaming about it? (1 point per hour spent.)
2) Are you lying asleep dreaming about it? (2 points per dream.)
3) Do you have three or more library books on the subject at once? (1 point per book; double points if you bought them.)

4) Have you read all the books the library has on the subject, leaving you prowling the aisles in a frustrated search for more? (Two points; three if it’s a large library or you have access to interloans.)
5) Do you keep bringing it into conversations where it may or may not belong? (1 point per conversation.)
6) Are you marshalling your resources of spare time days ahead in order to maximise obsession-time? (1 point per day ahead multiplied by: 1 if you’re calculating in hours; 2 by half hours; 3 by 10-15 minutes.)
7) Do you trawl the internet by the hour, looking for a) information and b) some poor sap who’s as obsessed as you are? (1/2 a point per hour spent, doubled if you should have been doing something else at the time; and don’t worry, we’re here.)

If you had to get a piece of paper and a pen (or take your socks off) to calculate your score, you have an obsession! What is it? Do tell! All correspondence welcomed!

*semi-colon