Rachael

I love rain so much. I'm one of those people who would be actually, truly happy in Seattle. I wouldn't mind only seeing the sun every once in a while. Bright sun and blue skies make my sensitive eyes hurt, anyway. And it's not like I'm super outdoorsy (surprise!). Give me a chair by the window and my computer or a notebook (and best of all worlds, a cup of coffee thick with cream), and I'm a happy girl.

I'm going into a three day weekend (my schedule is never like the rest of the world's) and I'm hoping the rain keeps up. I dislike driving in the rain, because Californians believe that either their cars will float away on any puddle bigger than three inches across and slow to six miles per hour on the freeway or they think that rain doesn't matter and go their normal ninety. But everything else? Sitting on the couch? Lying in bed? Lovely. Oh, and the best? Sitting in the cafe, writing, watching people come and go, shaking off their hoods and umbrellas, greeting friends and laughing.

So today, I wish for the sound of rain to accompany my writing (and hopefully, my nap). There will be cats for laps, and blankets for shoulders, and oh, it makes me happy just thinking about it.     

Oooh, I've been reading a lot lately. Isn't it odd how urges take us over for certain periods of time? For weeks, I'll crave new music, and I'll buy and download everything I can get my hands on. I'll binge on music blogs, throwing songs into my iTunes as fast as it can gobble them. Or I'll spend weeks dreaming about lace, fantasizing about watching the patterns grow (who knew THAT would ever happen? Sheesh). Or I'll spin and knit and spin and knit until I can clothe the whole household, right down to tiny Miss Idaho.

I'm always reading, but lately I've been tearing through books like the Great Book Famine is coming. (It's not, by the way. There is SO much good stuff out there that even that whole pesky Mayan apocalypse thing won't get in the way.) I like to tell you about the books I LOVE (not the ones I merely like — who has the time for that?), so here you go.

1. A Wrinkle in Time, Madeleine L'Engle. Of course, I read this approximately one billionty times when I was a kid (I read all of them, over and over again. I wrote a fan letter to ML'E, and SHE WROTE BACK.) But I reread this because I wanted to read the second book on this list and everyone said to brush up on Wrinkle before I did. And I'm so glad I did. It was wonderful, falling back into the book, and I was Meg, all over again.

2. When You Reach Me, Rebecca Stead. This is the story of a girl finding out what friendship means while figuring out the very nature of time (I thought figuring out the time between bells at high school was bad enough). The novel repeatedly references A Wrinkle In Time — the main character loves the book as much as I did when I was her age, and there was something so endearing about that, the way her book was tattered as much as mine was. I'm not surprised this won the Newberry in 2010. (How lovely that must be, to follow in L'Engle's footsteps like that. Can you imagine? Loving a book that much, and being able to honor it that way? Oh, it gives me goosebumps.)  Also, it was fun reading a book set when I was growing up — it was so firmly grounded in that time period I could almost smell the plastic on the unicorn decals.

3. Learning to Swim, Sara J. Henry. I'm not quite finished with this, but I'm adoring it. Premise (without spoilers — this all happens within the first few pages): The main character witnesses a little boy tossed off the end of a ferry.
She swims to save him, and then tries to figure out who would throw away a child. Henry writes so well, and I'm almost done and I haven't yet figured out how it will end. Delicious.

(Thanks to all of you who suggested books HERE, and feel free to leave me more suggestions for your most recent favorite.)

* Amazon links for convenience — feel free to email your local indie bookstore, though! They'll even mail them to you, just like Amazon does!

Congratulations to the winner of Sweet Shawlettes, LindaW! I've emailed you, letting you know. Thanks, all, for playing along! (By the way, if you leave a comment I don't automatically sign you up for my mailing list. That would be cheeky. If you DO want to be on my ever so sporadic mailing list (from which I do draw random winners or random things from time to time) the link is there to the right.)

And now I'm off to have more wicked fun. The amazing Seton Hill University in Pennsylvania brought me, Juliet Blackwell, and Sophie Littlefield out to talk to their graduate students in their MFA program (they have a wonderful one, Writing Popular Fiction). We spoke to them about revision (oh, I could wax eloquent for DAYS about revision) and gender bias in publishing (which made for a fascinating conversation even if I stuttered a bit. I've never been on a panel and seen so many raised, waving, eager hands).

Here we are on the dais, about to try to sound smart.

I look tall! I'm not, but I enjoy the illusion. (Also, new haircut! You like?)

Today we're still in Greensburg. We're actually all going to get some writing done, and go to an alumni lunch and take our lovely hostess Nicole Peeler out to dinner. I feel lucky and grateful and sometimes completely gobsmacked that I get to hang out with friends like these and talk about what I love to do.

(I have to tell you one thing–there was a darling woman there, Symantha, and I recognized her. It turned out that I'd met her at Stitches West two years ago, before my first book came out. She'd been so excited to see the book flier I'd been passing out then, and it turns out I was the first real author she'd ever met. It convinced her that authors didn't live in some fancy castle in another world, and that she could try to be one, and it's part of the reason SHE is now in the program at Seton Hill. That thrilled me to my handknit-clad toes.)

So we'll write today, and maybe I'll knit (I'm LOVING the Fountain Pen shawl — how had I not seen this one before?) and be with friends, and I'm happy.

I'm happy to be hosting Jean Moss today who is talking about her new beautiful book, Sweet Shawlettes. Since I'm all about spinning right now, and what better to use handspun for but shawls, I was honored to get a preview copy (it's gorgeous) and the chance to ask her a few questions.

Please leave a comment for a chance to win a copy of the book! I'll draw a random winner on Monday.

1.    What made you interested in writing this particular book?

The book came to me out of the blue when Erica Sanders-Foege, then a senior editor at The Taunton Press, rang to ask if I would consider doing it. The working title was Sweet Shawlettes, but Erica  assured me I could change it if I didn't like it.  However, for me the title had a certain broad brush appeal – whimsical, feminine,  could even be ironic – or it might have been that I'm just addicted to alliteration, but knowing how difficult it is to come up with decent book titles, I quickly applied the if it's not broken, don't fix it principle.  

I agreed to submit a synopsis and by the time I'd finished it I was completely hooked on the idea.  Previously most of my books have concentrated mainly on sweaters, and this gave me the opportunity to explore a totally different form.  Shawls, capes, cowls, furbelows or anything that can be worn around the neck was the brief and I was thrilled to explore as many ways of interpreting it as I could. 

I was given complete control over yarns, stitches, colours, styles, techniques – something I really value.  I was kept in the loop about each process of the book's production, consulted on the book's design and to my utmost surprise and great relief the editors at Taunton actually listened.  In a previous hardcover book that shall be nameless (I should add with a different publisher), in the same situation I was treated like a jobbing author and ended up with a book I hated, where the images reflected completely different sweaters to the ones I'd designed.  

I'm intrigued by the process of book-making from beginning to end – the shoot is the icing on the cake when you see your designs come alive.  With my two previous books, Wandering Spirits and In The Mood, I was given the freedom to deliver the completed print-ready book on disk, which I now admit could have been an absolute disaster!  However, a steep learning curve ensued and ultimately it was such an exhilarating and satisfying experience. Sweet Shawlettes was photographed in Connecticut, so for various reasons, not the least of which being that I live in the UK, it wasn't possible  for me to be there.  Consequently I was really nervous about the pictures and was mega-relieved when I saw Alexandra Grablewski's strong and beautiful images.  

I'm so glad I decided to write the book now.  It took me on an interesting journey exploring the construction, techniques, yarns and the history of neck wraps and I'll always be grateful to Taunton for offering me this opportunity.

2.    What's your favorite thing to knit when you're not working on knitting?

Not surprisingly I do enjoy making shawls.  Everyone in my family received one this Xmas – one size fits all, so no sweat about fitting. Recently there's been a baby boom in our family, so I've been doing a lot of tiny sweaters which have a built in feel good factor as you just know you're going to finish the project before something else grabs your attention – good for limiting the UFOs.  Oh and also I've knit my favourite shadow knit baby blanket about four times this year.

3.    What was your favorite part of pulling this book together?

Definitely the adrenalin rush that you get when there's a blank sheet in front of you and it's uncharted territory and you can either get totally paralysed or take the plunge.  It often takes me some time to get past the paralysis stage, but this is what I call the cooking time when the ideas are crystallising and I need displacement activities. I chop things down in the garden, make lots of food, play my guitar, or even clean the house, though that would only happen if I'd done everything else first! Sometimes I even dream about designs and have been known to get up in the middle of the night and rush upstairs to my office to dash off a quick sketch.  When I eventually do dive in, the first thing I do is to map out the book in detail, making lists of the types of designs, yarn, colours,  techniques, stitches, moods etc and then set about placing them in the relevant chapters, with the aim of getting an overall balance.  I then set about the swatching, which is always exciting as you can never tell how a yarn will behave with a particular stitch pattern until you knit it and you can usually count on some surprises.  

One of Britain's leading knitwear designers, Jean Moss's innovative combinations of texture, colour and styling have been widely influential over the years. A self-taught knitter, she has been producing her own unique collections of handknits for more than twenty years, as well as designing for Rowan Yarns and many international fashion houses such as Ralph Lauren, Laura Ashley and Benetton. She teaches in the UK and Europe and is a regular visitor to the US.

Her new book Sweet Shawlettes is available at your local independent bookstore or from retailers like Amazon, Chapters, or directly from Taunton Press. The project gallery can be seen here.

This has been the year of . . . treading water. You know those years? Those years in which you paddle and stay afloat and pull some people up on your raft and have a wee, damp party with the champagne you stole from a passing cruise ship? A good, busy year, but an exhausting one sometimes. I'm happy it came, and just as happy to usher in a new one.

I like to sum up my years here on Ye Old Blogge, so here's 2011:

January:

We went to Hawaii for three days.

The view from our room.

You'd think going anywhere to relax for three days (not including travel time) wouldn't really work, but we did it SO well. The first day, we did nothing. The second day, we went snorkeling (the one thing Lala really wanted to do) which was great and we SWAM WITH A TURTLE. And then, to recuperate from the excitement of that and the bomb karaoke we found, we did nothing on the third day. I even beat a migraine while we were there, which I rarely do. It was wonderful, and just what we needed.

This, I think, was my favorite shot, because while lying on my back on the beach, this is what I saw when I opened my eyes.

Also in January, I came up with Four Rules for Creativity. Click there for the expanded version, and here are the Cliff's Notes:

1. Pick something already. Make a choice about what you're going to create. Don't worry about it being the wrong thing, because once you're DONE with this project, you can choose something else to do next.

2. Give yourself permission to navel-gaze. Being an artist is, by its very nature, somewhat narcissistic. Accept that and make something.

3. Give yourself permission to suck. And I mean, permission to REALLY suck. If it's the worst thing you ever made, sit back and say DAMN, that sucks. Then make it (or the next one) a little better. Fail some.

4. No excuses. If you want to write, then do it. Don't say you want to. (Everyone says that. You're not everyone. Are you?) If you want to draw, draw. If you want to play your ukulele until four in the morning, then do it with conviction. DO IT.

 

February:

I learned to weave. DAMN IT. (Nancy L, I haven't forgotten your scarf! It will happen! I promise!)

I didn't want to learn. I didn't want to go that far down the crazy train's line (really, isn't the last stop just getting sheep?). But I did. And I love it.

I made up the easiest spicy chicken soup for the crock pot, and I've made it many times since.

Also, my short story, "Honeymooning," came out.

 

March:

How to Knit a Heart Back Home came out! I wrote a little song for it.

Lala's parents took us to Disneyworld which was awesome. I was expecting it to be lowercase fun. But no, it was uppercase F.U.N. The weather in March in Florida is perfect (I'd only been to Orlando once before, in July, and the heat was oppressively awful, so this was a nice surprise.)

The Neph, first time in a pool.

At Hogwarts!

In Big News, I fell head over heels in love with an accordion. This was also very unexpected. I'm happy to report I'm still in love. Also, still not very good at it, but BOY do I adore it. I hear the accordion is the new knitting which was once the new black, so there's still time to hop on this trend, people. Do it!

 

April:

Romantic Times was in LA. I went and gave workshops and signed books and hung out with C.A.P.:

The PensFatales (four of them at least) were there, too, and there are tales still told of us in some dive bars down there.

I felted two cashmere shawls while washing a load of laundry. That was AWESOME.

I know you feel my pain.

KnittedWit brought out the Cypress Hollow Yarn named for the characters in the books. I love this stuff, and she is DARLING. 

 

May:

I switched to a standing desk! Okay, I didn't so much switch as built one for my office. I got a lot of work done at it, too. I type faster when standing, I wrote much of a first draft of a novel there. At the day job, too, I stood more often (since our desks can be raised there).

Then I kind of stopped. At the job, I still stand at least once a day for a while, but at home? Nah. Not so much. (Especially since I work so often at the cafe now. There is, however, a standing coffee bar there, and I could work there — I've seen people do it, and I did it once. It was kind of weird.) But yeah, I've been bad about it. It occurs to me that perhaps I am just sedentary. Or perhaps I am just lazy. That's more likely, of course.

Also in May, I shared my Moleskine hack.

And as a bonus, I'll share my NEW Moleskine hack. Have you seen those tiny notebooks they make? They're just larger than a credit card, and often when I go out, I leave my purse at home. I stash my ID and debit card and one of those little notebooks in my back pocket (with my beloved tiny Fisher Space Pen in my front pocket). After a few times of pulling out the notebook and having my ID hit the floor, I came up with this little hack:

Isn't that neat? I used duct tape, and made a lined pocket to hold just the essentials. Now I can catch words wherever they find me. It ain't the most attractive solution, but I *am* very fond of duct tape, so this pleases me.

 

June:

In more Moleskine news, I upgraded to a computer that could fit into one:

That was the month we also discovered Lois the Pie Queen (which I've been to at least seven times since) for the best pie in the Bay Area (and the best chicken and waffles, in my book).

 

July:

I went to New York on business. I went to the HarperCollins party at the Central Park Boathouse. I felt kind of stunned to think that I was really doing it. I was really a writer.

I also set my agent's apartment on fire. You know. Like you do.

Also in July, I started my new day job, still doing the same thing, 911 fire/medical, at a new-to-me smaller agency. I'm glad I made the move. It's been good for me, even though it's always completely nerve-wracking to start a new job.

Also, I thought about the way we tangle ourselves up, in life, and in writing. And sometimes in jasmine vines.

 

August:

Big things! My memoir, A Life in Stitches came out! So did my first audio-book (all three Cypress Hollow novels are now available, didja know that?).  

I started running again, and 20 minutes later, stopped as I fell off a sidewalk and sprained my ankle.

I read The Homecoming of Samuel Lake, which I hereby declare My Favorite Book of 2011.

 

September:

Your cat Digit got his first chin infection. It's continued, off and on, since then, waxing and waning. I take him in every time he gets one, and they treat it, but there's not much else we can do, the vet says. It makes him very grumpy (Digit, not the vet). I mean, it makes him even grumpier than normal. Imagine THAT. Clementine lives in terror.

I did a bunch of readings. Oh, my, I'm glad that's over. I love being AT the readings, but getting there? I get easily overwhelmed with worry about them.

We went to Vegas! Just for a weekend, and BOY was it fun.

We stayed at the Venetian, because, well, you know. I love Venice, even the fake kind.

We had a party, and I played the accordion in my new dress. There isn't much happy that can compare to that.

 

October:

Wishes & Stitches came out! (For those of you playing at home, yes, I had three books come out this year. And nope, I'm still not over the excitement.) 

My pop got married to Lola! It was a gorgeous backyard luau, a lovely night for a lovely occasion.

And I did Project 333! Hey, I just realized tomorrow I get to go through my Love Box where I stored the few clothes I didn't keep in my Project List or give away. In the project, you wear 33 items for 3 months. I didn't include hand-knits, natch. It was easy and awesome, and it's led me to realize a couple of things: I need a couple more nice black V-neck shirts and a dress or two with sleeves (all mine are sleeveless, something I'd never noticed before). I can't wait to go though my closet and give away everything I didn't wear out of those 33 things, because they're in there. Isn't that wild? Also this: I felt better dressed during these last three months than I have in years, because I loved everything I wore.

 

November:

I did NaNoWriMo, the Rebel Remix, in which I edited 100,000 words. It worked!  This was Chris Baty's last year as its leader, so I really wanted to participate. Grateful that I did, and grateful to Our Fairygodmother for sending us to the Night of Writing Dangerously again. Thank you!

We participated in the General Strike, which was amazing. Even better, we had a knit-in at Occupy Oakland.  

I finally found my knitting mojo, but I fell for the Photo Fallacy. Again.  

I put together some of my ideas of How to Revise Your Novel. I played my accordion and my uke, sometimes until the wee hours of the morning. I love doing that. I can lose myself in music in a way I can't in writing. It's a different kind of high.  

 

December:

A Life in Stitches came out in Australia and New Zealand! (There's quite a bit in the memoir about my New Zealander mother, so I'm very, very proud that this happened. Thanks, you lovely new readers.)

I fell in love with the Bed of Nails pillow, which has taken away my neck and shoulder pain, period. (It doesn't work for the hormonal migraines, I'm sad to say, but for the headaches that start from neck pain? Yes.)

I went indoor skydiving. IT WAS SO MUCH DAMN FUN.

At iFly in Union City.

(And if I may brag for a moment, I was good at it. I totally was. Lala was watching my DVD of it, and she didn't realize she was looking at me and said, "Hey, she's good!" And no, I'm never jumping out of a plane on purpose. This was enough to satisfy me.)

I spun a lot (on my new WooLee Winder, which is EVEN BETTER THAN I EVER THOUGHT IT WOULD BE). I knitted a lot. I dreamed about Venice, and finally planned a trip for myself next March.

2012 is barreling in. My Australian and New Zealand readers are already there, and I haven't heard that they don't like it, so I'm willing to step forward.

Thank you, again, for being with me this year. It's meant the world.

For you, I wish this: That you will find your happiness and hold on tight. That you will take chances and make mistakes and find unexpected pockets of joy. That you will love and be loved. What could be better?

So I'm going back to Venice. It's been what, three or four years now? [Runs to look at the blog.] Oh, my god, it's been five years. No WONDER I've been dreaming about it so much. I always dream about Venice, but it's usually along the lines of two or three times a year. Lately it's been almost weekly. I'm always trying to GET there, but something is holding me back — I'm late for the plane or I don't have my passport, and I can see the plane, sparkling there, ready to take me, and I can't get on. Or worse, I'm in a city full of cars (Mestre?) just outside Venice and I can't find a boat that will take me. Only about once a year do I actually get to Venice in my dreams, but oh, it's lovely when I do.

I was just thinking about the time I stole a boat in Venice, about eight years ago. Okay, okay, I only kind of lied my way into borrowing it. IT WAS SO AWESOME. Here's the story (from the blog back in MyGlassHouse days):

Today!

First: I decided to release the Venetian mystery I had
been reading, a la bookcrossing.com, at Harry's Bar. I
had never been there, except for popping my head in
once or twice, and I wanted a Bellini. I happened to
arrive when it wasn't that busy, so I ordered a
Bellini and a small sandwich. What was that? Oh,
that'll be fine. Whoops. What I got was a
mayo/egg/anchovy sandwich. I ate it, though.

And I released the book, even though the very
attentive maitre'd chased me out, "Prego, signorina!"
Oh, that's not mine, but thank you! And I ran.

I stopped to breathe my anchovy
breath at a motor launch. I noticed it was the launch
for the Hotel Cipiriani, the exclusive resort across
the lagoon. This is when I got the idea.

I thought for a while. Then.

I walked out on the dock and used the phone that was
thoughtfully connected there to order the boat. Yep.
Eee!

When the gleaming boat arrived, driven by the gleaming
Lovely Man, I had my Italian all planned out. "What
time is it? Have you seen my friend? Small, beautiful?
We were supposed to meet an hour ago at the
restaurant."

Number one: I didn't know if the hotel even HAD a
restaurant, but I figured it was a good guess.

Number two: The driver had no English, and my Italian
varies, and today was an off day. I might have
actually been saying, "What time is it? Have you seen
my pickle? Beer, green? We were supposed to marry
yesterday on a ski."

But he seemed to understand, no, he had not seen my
friend dee ann, and he held his hand out to help me in
the boat. Which he then drove across the lagoon, ME
HIS ONLY PASSENGER. Me, in this limo of a boat. I sat
inside. I stood in the back. I stood in the middle. I
finally stood in the front with the Lovely Man who
obligingly stopped in the middle of the choppy water,
in the sun, to take a picture of me. Grinning me. I
was giddy.

Once he helped me out of the boat, I kinda had to keep
up the ruse, since he just sat in the boat and watched
me inside. I swept in, "Is my friend dee ann here? I'm
late, and she had to leave for Greece…." As far as I
know, dee ann is either in San Diego or headed up the
coast in a fast car, but she ain't in Italy (more's
the pity). But Perfectly Groomed Eyebrows merely
smiled, "We haven't seen your friend, madame. Did she
have a reservation?"

For it was a room about the size of my living room,
full of RICH Italians wearing fur and dripping
diamonds.

"Reservations? No, we don't do reservations. I'll just
wait here, if I might? A Bellini?" I don't know where
the words came from, I swear.

"Sadly, we only use fresh juice here, madame. Would
you like fresh-squeezed raspberry juice and prosecco
instead, while you wait?"

Oh, I guessed that would be all right. By the time I
drank my drink (you DON'T want to know what that one
cost) and thanked my genial host and washed my hands
in the gorgeous bathroom (and stole some of the teeny
guest soaps shaped like hearts, don't tell), I was
genuinely getting miffed that dee ann hadn't arrived.

I scare myself sometimes. Right now Mom is saying,
"Cheeky girl." But she would have been the first on
the boat, don't let her fool you.