Making it Happen

Ten years ago I had a dream: a dream of making a beautiful quilt for a friend. Something warm and cosy; something to curl up under while watching classic movies and sipping cocoa on a winter afternoon.

Crazy Quilt, 1884

I went for it.
Did I make a perfect little lap quilt? I did not. Did I make a comfortably-sized one-person wrap quilt? I did not. Did I make a freakishly over-ambitious monster crazy quilt with emphasis on the crazy?
Well, no. I started one.

I chugged away at it, but it was not long before I realized it was not going to be finished in time for the intended birthday. It’s been bundled in and out of boxes and bags and wardrobes ever since, worked on here and there, added to in fits and starts, but mostly just taking up space and making me feel guilty.

If I’m honest, this one project was a big part of my decision to make 2015 my Year of Finishing Things. Over the years it had become symbolic of my lack of self-discipline, my good intentions never followed through, and my failure to finish anything I started.

fail

Not surprisingly, all the feelings bundled up with this UFO (Unfinished Fabric Object) made me reluctant to go near the thing, let alone commit to the many, many hours it would take to finish it. But it was still there, a big fat purple plug between me and moving on. So this year, I decided, I was going to get it out of the way. I was going to finish it, and thus become a Person Who Finishes Things.

I had the best of intentions, and when those failed, I made a rough plan. That made a bit of progress, which then fizzled out, so I made a more detailed plan. Which I didn’t keep. Then I made an even more detailed plan, which led to more progress, which also fizzled out. I even made a place for it in my schedule.

What I didn’t make was a commitment. If I was already doing something else, if I didn’t feel up to it, if I just didn’t want to, I didn’t. I still wanted it done, I just didn’t want to do it. No – that’s not quite right. I wished it were done – but I didn’t want to do it.

I did do bits here and there, but the small amount of progress I made was swallowed up by the magnitude of the undertaking. The quilt top is 155cm wide and 200cm long (about 5ft by 6 1/2), and has perhaps a hundred pieces, each with multiple edges to sew, embroider and embellish. Not quite big enough for the Great Bed of Ware, but it’s felt like it at times.

Bed of Ware

But the only way out is through, and there were some things I did that helped.

First, I sat down and asked myself what the obstacles were that prevented me working on it. A big one was the amount of time and effort involved just to get it out, spread it out, figure out where to work next, and put it away again at the end – if I could only find half an hour at a time, just handling it would eat most of that.

So I found somewhere where I could leave it folded and rolled, with the active part spread out in the middle. I made it easy for myself to just sit down and do a bit. I worked on one area at a time, so I could see and gauge my progress. I also borrowed and downloaded audiobooks (legally) to listen to as I stitched away.

I haven’t finished it yet – there’s still the centre section to embellish, as well as the attaching of the backing fabric to the front. I may not finish it by the end of the liturgical year (28th November, this year) but I will have it finished by the end of the calendar year.

egg_timer

I don’t know if the intended recipient will even want it – or indeed if she ever wanted it – but I’m not doing it just for her any more, I’m doing it for me. She can use it, regift it, or donate it to the SPCA for dog bedding; I won’t mind.

It will be finished, and I will be a person who finishes things. It has long been a failing of mine to launch straight into an over-ambitious project without working my way up via smaller, more manageable projects.
I think I’m cured now.

Crunching the Numbers Again

I have a plan.
It’s not much of a plan, but (as they say) it’s better than a kick in the head.

The plan goes as follows.
Monday 16: write outline of novel.
Monday 23: do in-depth character work.
Monday 30: write more detailed outline.
October, November and December: WRITE ENTIRE NOVEL.

Yes.
I know it’s not earth-shatteringly brilliant, but really, have you ever been kicked in the head?

Russia Vs Montenegro (Head Kick)

The first timeI calculated how fast I needed to write this first draft to finish it by the end of the year (this year, smart aleck) it worked out as 2,500 words a week.
Now I figure having three months to write the first draft means I need to write about eight thousand words a week. Over a thousand a day.

Naturally, I may not be able to write it all on a Monday (hand cramp can be an issue after the first couple of thousand words), but then, writing a little instalment every morning may serve to keep it in the top of my mind better.
It’s just unfortunate that it takes me so long to get into the swing of the story – I’ve just got my hands full of threads when it’s time to set them down and head off for work.

Busy Hands & Active Mind

Perhaps I need to develop a key – something that tells my subconscious to snap to it, this is writing time. Perhaps a rather swashbuckling hat. But which?

The jester’s cap? Certainly uninhibited, but the bells could prove distracting.
Distraction wouldn’t be a problem with the bonnet – rather like wearing blinkers in that respect – but it does tend to the missish in personality.
The little furry hat is personable, to be sure, but one does tend to forget that one is wearing it.
Perhaps it will have to be the black felt picture hat, with red roses and a plume of peacock.

charcoal drawing: girl with a big hat

If nothing else, it should provide some protection from the kicks to the head.

* * *

Do you have a key or cue to your subconscious that it’s time for the creativity to flow? Do you have a plan that seems like insanity itself? I’d love to hear from you!