I just read the essay “Abandonment Issues” In the New York Times Book Review by Mark O’Connell, Slates Books columnist. This prompted me to think of the projects I have abandoned. Not my writer projects per say because of continued hope I will revise those half-finished pieces. Picture Books manuscripts mainly.
But before I started writing full-time I was so enthused with craft projects in my life going from sewing my own clothes and drapes to others. After making approximately ten quilts both twin and queen, I have the half-finished quilted pillow shams and a chicken quilt. All the pieces nicely cut out but not sewn together. then I went into making my own cards with stamps and Stampin up.
I guess Stampin Up was a craze or fad because no one does cards anymore. Maybe you’ll find the occasional thank you card or birthday card, but cards are not so much in fashion anymore. Not in my circle anyway.
Knitting came next for me. I went from knitting scarfs, to sweaters in fishermen’s cable. Everyone in my family got at least one sweater from me if not two. In the midst of knitting one for my husband I abandoned knitting and started going to writing classes.
I was enthralled with the idea of writing a picture book. I had had an epiphany while ill to turn a bird’s song into a picture book. That became “Annie’s Special Day.” (Yes, it totally morphed.) and I learned so so much.
I Joined a writers group , observing and absorbing every word. I started blogging when I started querying. I Joined Penn Writers and went to my first writing conference. I’ll be attending the miniconference this Saturday. (And there’s still time to register) Then I joined SCBWI and started my own picture book critique group meeting once a month in the library.
And after two years of abandoned picture book projects stuck with what was to become my second picture book, “Edmund Pickle Chin, a Donkey Rescue Story.”
Meanwhile, I had gone to Memoir writing classes because with the advent of getting
“Annie’s Special Day,” published, I harbored not so secretly the desire to of somehow making my journals into public writing. And now after three years of classes I have the first rough draft of my memoir, “Spiraling, My Battle With Bipolar Disorder.”
I sincerely hope I don’t abandon this one! 🙂