It started in the month before the election. I was making myself crazy by compulsively reading too many “news” stories, most of which were nothing more than opinion pieces by people whose crystal ball wasn’t any better than mine. By looking every day for something that would support my hope that this time, Trump would win by a margin too big to steal, that there were more safeguards against election fraud than there had been four years ago.
To stop myself doing that, I needed to get involved in something else. Preferably something that didn’t even involve using the laptop, because trying to force myself to write when I didn’t feel like it led inevitably back to browsing the internet. And given my current mobility issues, it wasn’t easy. I mean, the days are long past when I could just decide to spend every morning on the hiking trail.
So… I dug up a nearly-completed embroidery project that I had abandoned ten years ago: filling in the Ramayana scenes on a faded Indian kalamkari bedspread with bright embroidery, sequins, beads, metallic scraps, and all the glitz that the panels called for. This was the last of five panels that I had cut out to embroider, and it was easy enough to pick up where I’d left off; my embroidery box was still full of the threads and scraps I’d pulled out for this piece.
And stitching on it was not just soothing and distracting. It reawakened the part of my brain that delights in color and line and texture, so that by the time I’d filled in all of this last panel I had four or five more embroidery projects in my head.
Which is where the connection to writing comes in. Where do you get your ideas? That doesn’t really matter; they can come from a chance encounter, a popular science article, or the little idea shop in Poughkeepsie. The main thing is keeping and feeding them, and that’s much more likely if you’re already writing something. Just the process of writing tells something in your brain that now is a good time to explore that fleeting image, that puzzling conversation, whatever fragment of a fictional world you happen to have touched.
Which is good news for anybody who’s struggling through a desert of no ideas or, worse, ideas that aren’t good enough or ideas that obviously aren’t enough for a full length novel so let’s just forget about them, okay?
As for me: I’m not writing now, but it’s not from a lack of ideas. It’s a matter of choice. I haven’t got the energy to pursue more than one interest at a time, and I’m choosing to spend this winter among hand-dyed silks and painted cheesecloth and couched ribbons and metallic cords and embroidery floss in a hundred different colors. But for you who still want to make stories more than anything else, go forth and write. And send me your stories, because I do still have the energy to do proofreading.
Mad Genius Club 
12 responses to “One stitch at a time”
Oh! That is beautiful! I was so delighted to see your work when I was able to visit in person. You are creating, and making art, and I’m so happy you shared it with us.
When I cannot write I make stuff: models of wooden sailing ships or paper models of spacecraft. (My goal is to make a model of every spacecraft my family has been involved with. I have three of the five so far.)
Writing is a creative activity. Doing a creative activity in a different field is a great way to restore creativity in other fields. When I make models it makes me want to go back to writing.
I do similar. I usually either play piano, knit, or more recently, I’ve started oil painting. I’ve decided that I need to have a hobby for which I give myself permission to suck. It’s been fun.
“An amateur is someone who proves that a thing worth doing is worth doing badly.” —GKC
As an entirely amateur stitcher this is a delight to study.
And filling in my stories is a bit similar. Here’s the framework — I need some exciting color around it.
Gorgeous work!
I was hoping there would be a picture. This is awesome.
Ideas insufficient to bear a story can sometimes be induced to grow, particularly if introduced to other ideas. But not always.
They opened a Poughkeepsie branch? When I was starting out, it was only the home office in Schenectady.
With the rise of the internet, demand for story and blog post ideas increased. Or so I heard.
That is absolutely stunning! Nice work, Margaret.
Amazingly beautiful!