What I’m Writing: So many would-be writers think that writing is primarily about inspiration; if the muse doesn’t show up on a given day, you can’t/shouldn’t write. All of us who’ve been seriously committed to this craft for the long haul, though, understand that such a philosophy is not just untenable, but wrong. My own work has convinced me that muses (and, if you’re of a spiritual bent, inspirational power of another kind) like to be courted, just as everybody else does—courted by the stable routine of sitting down at the writing desk every day (or most days) and getting to work in a businesslike way.
That conviction has been especially helpful over this past week, as I’ve continued to work on the second chapter of Everyday Annunciations. This is by far the most ambitious book I’ve ever undertaken—kind of intimidating, actually, requiring references to theology, Marian studies, art history, and the psychology of coping, among other fields. It’s going to be full of stories, too, borrowed from friends and acquaintances, characters in scripture, saints. It’s also extremely significant for me personally, the historical heart of the book, rooted in the earliest days/months/years after my husband’s death, when I struggled to find a reason to go on living.
If I let myself dwell on all those challenges every morning, I might not sit down at all. Instead, I’m using a familiar tactic on myself: just give me 500 words this morning, Susan, and you can call it good. To make the process even less intimidating, I’m thinking of the chapter in content chunks and sub-chunks which supply parameters to those 500 words. Each day starts easy, too, because I never let myself quit without writing the transition into the next chunk.
A prosaic method of work? Perhaps. But you know what? At some point just about every morning as I relax into absorption in the task, I suddenly find myself saying things and making connections I didn’t anticipate, some of them revelatory to me. 500 words become 600, or 700. And yesterday morning I found myself rough-drafting the chapter’s conclusion, 8100 words along in just three weeks. Now the real work begins—but the hardest part is over for this one.
The story goes that an internationally famous romance novelist was once asked for the single most important piece of advice she could give a beginning writer. “Ass in the seat,” she said. I couldn’t agree more.
What I’m Knitting/Planning to Write: One of the best ways to get the word out about a new book is via spin-off magazine articles, and I’m working to promote Knitting as a Spiritual Path that way. I’ve already had one such article accepted; I’m planning to write/submit another within a week or so. This second one is for a small pretty magazine based in New England that emphasizes making, community, and earth-friendly practices. The piece-to-be, targeted to a special issue on “Stitching” projected for October, focuses on knitting Christmas gifts for friends that can be customized to fit the person’s personality, using left-over bits and pieces of yarn, feeding the knitter’s own creative imagination. Just finished the last prototype yesterday; all are circular scarves and use the same easy, addictive linen-stitch variation. The difference is in the number of stitches cast on, needle size, and yarn used. The “norm” version (pink below) is a simple, adaptable short wrap; the blue uses bigger needles and luxurious left-overs for a more open double-wrap; the brown is a neck gaiter suitable for winter ramblings; the multi-color pink (modeled by beautiful Nora, 5), offers a fanciful child variation.
Knitting and writing twinned? What could be better?
Something Beautiful in My World Right Now:
And here are the four images. I’ll get pictures of all on models for the article submission, but wanted to share with you today.
