we’ve lost a person at work, so everyone is pulling extra hours to take up the slack. Add to that the fact that my husband accidentally made me two huge cups of regular coffee (I’m a decaf gal in the evenings), and what do you get?
At 3:00 last night, I was positively vibrating. I won’t be doing much blogging tonight, but I’ll catch up with this just as soon as I catch up on my sleep! I also want to talk a bit about the possibility of doing an online magazine.
I’ve been toying with the idea of putting together an online magazine. I’m thinking fiction, poetry, perhaps creative non-fiction. Also, I’d like to accept some photography and art work as well. At first, I wouldn’t be able to pay anything to s.ubmitters; everything is still coming out of my pocket now. Eventually, as more people subscribe to read it, I’d like to sell advertising and use that money to pay writers.
However, I was wondering if enough people would be interested in submitting to it (or reading it) to make it worthwhile. If you’re interested in doing either, please leave a note in the comments.
…writing, that is.
I’ve been thinking about family stories and writing, and that led me, of course, to thinking about growing up. I was thinking about the first time I can really remember writing a story. I may have written before this, but if I did, I can’t remember. I know that this is the first time I really got into the “zone.” I saw and felt and experienced the story as I wrote it. I’m still a bit awed by the feeling even now. When I’m lucky enough for it to happen to me, it’s almost as if I’m channeling the story. Plots twist, characters misbehave, and the book takes on a life all its own. The result can be chaotic, but it’s also far more creative and surprising than I could create by planning it out.
I wrote my first story when I was in third grade, so I would have been eight years old. We were writing stories for school, and I had just read Call of the Wild. I sat down in my room, using the seat of one of our kitchen chairs for a desk, and started writing. My room was chilly, and I remember wrapping a little blanket around me as I worked.
My story was about a mother and child who are trapped in the wilderness in a blizzard with hungry, ferocious wolves circling outside. I can’t remember how it ended, but I still remember seeing the scene in my mind. Gray figures of the wolves paced against the white expanse of snow while the mother and child huddled inside the cabin, sneaking peeks through a cracked door.
I’m not sure how long it took, but my feet had gone to sleep by the time I’d finished, and I’d filled more pages than I had ever expected to. I remember the feeling of satisfaction when I finished the story, and how proud I was of it. I’m not sure if I realized it then, but I think that moment did more to make me want to write than anything else I can think of.
I suppose that’s why I write today. It can be difficult to feel a relationship with readers when I spend months working on a novel that no one but me has read. I plan, and hope, that others will one day read and enjoy it too, but the writing process can be quite lonely. The act of writing, of creating, of discovering the story is what keeps me at it.
What keeps you writing?
I got my basket of goodies from my secret pal spoiler, Chris. I have to say, she really outdid herself.
The goodies were packed in a cute knit basket.
Unfortunately, the digital camera needs batteries, and I don’t have any at home, so I’m stuck using the camera phone tonight. The basket is tan, although it looks pinkish here. The trim is a brick red. It has some very pretty, subtle color work on the sides as well. The basket is bigger than it looks too; in this picture it’s holding two skeins of Regia, two of handspun and a small spindle. The mobius handle is a really cute touch.
The handspun is the skein on the left. There are two of them, and the picture really doesn’t do it justice. It was much more neatly wound, but I, of course, had to take it out and play with it, so it’s not nearly as neat now. The colors are a rich, earthy brown mixed with an off-white. This stuff is practically screaming to be knit up!
The Regia (bottom) is a mix of rich blues. My husband has been eyeing this, so I’m probably going to turn it into some socks for him. Again, two balls, and very pretty colors.
The teddy bear you see is the top of a small spindle. I’ve been toying with the idea of learning to spin, so Chris is tempting me! Every time I look at her handspun, I get the urge to make some of my own. I wonder how many messes I’ll have to make before I get something that looks even close to as great as hers? I don’t want to think about that… 
She also sent Elizabeth Zimmermann’s Knitter’s Almanac. Ive had my eye on this book for a while, and I’m pleased as I can be to add it to my knitting library. I’ve been thumbing through already, and a couple of the patterns are looking mighty interesting.
In addition to what you see in the pictures, she also sent a very cool looking crystal, some lemon handmade soap (which smells absolutely delicious!) and chocolate. I’ll let you wonder about why the chocolate never made it to the pictures.
She did a terrific job wrapping everything up, and I had a blast going through everything. Thanks, Chris!
I had a lot of fun shopping for my secret pal. I won’t go into details here, just in case she reads this blog. I do SO enjoy shopping for knitting supplies.
I have no finished object to report, but I am about half-finished with my husband’s second sock. That’s an accomplishment in itself.
Sorry for the crappy photo, but I was too lazy to get the real camera.
Yes, I’m knitting in bed. Yes, that is the dog’s butt on the right side of the photo.
I was going through some photos the other day on the camera and ran across these.
My husband and I went last year to visit my aunt, not long before she passed away. We took this from the top of the mountain. He had pulled the car as far into the weeds as we could so I could get the photo. I like how the sun is still shining on the tops of the mountains even though the valleys have started to darken. Both my parents’ families are from this area, so there are a lot of family stories surrounding the area. These are alwasy good fodder for story ideas.
I love this photo. Doesn’t it look like the road to just about anywhere?
My aunt lived just down the road from here. Yes, I believe one or two of these houses is still occupied. When I was a girl, I used to spend the day with my aunt when we came in to visit. One of her neighbors lived in one of these little shacks, and she used to come to my aunt’s to shower every day or so. Yep, you guessed it. No indoor plumbing.
Hard to believe, isn’t it? There are some places even in the US that still don’t have indoor plumbing. I’d bet some of these houses still don’t have it. I’m going to go make some coffee and think about how lucky I am!