Salem Cottage Shoppe -coming soon!

Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve liked arts and crafts. My Aunt Bunny and I made Christmas presents every year. I remember one year making reindeer ornaments out of glass balls and felt. I still have the hot glue gun scars. I start projects with every intention of finishing them before the holiday season which ends with mixed results. The afghan I started last fall for my grandparents is still only half done.

At this current moment, my kitchen qualifies for federal disaster relief (12 days till Alice deadline – I’m not stressed). The counter is covered with cornstarch and food colouring. The table is buried under mixing bowls and jars. At least the kitchen items are grouped by project which is far more than I can say about the renegades scattered throughout my flat. 

The counters are lost to an experiment in homemade sidewalk chalk. Somehow, I don’t foresee getting my security deposit back. I’m convinced I did something wrong, even though it involved mixing literally three ingredients. Ratios.  I’m turning the first batch over to my nephews for product testing. Their mother is not going to be happy with Aunt Tatum.

The jar cookies stand a much better chance of not ending in disaster, I think. How hard can it be to layer things? So far, the difficult part has been coming up with recipes that are unique but not too weird. Also, finding 32 oz jars has been a mission, but find them I did. I bought 2 cases to start with. Later tonight, I’ll be printing recipes to glue onto the pretty cardstock to be tied to the jars with the pretty black ribbon. I should have gotten glue sticks. 

Why the sudden urge to be crafty? Simple: Mama be broke. I’m a writer and while it sounds glamorous as Paris in the 20’s its more often like the Oklahoma in the 30s. Since I’ve gotten more serious about writing, I’ve had to come up with ways to support it. My day job covers all else, but this, the one thing that really drives me. I’m told the self-publishing route is not as expensive as I’ve been lead to believe. However, my mother taught me to always have plans A-D in place. 

With that said, I’ll be at the Raleigh Flea Market at a table called the Salem Cottage Shoppe. I don’t know where exactly on the grounds it will be located, but look for me in two weeks. I’ll post more information once I have it, but I’ll love to see all of your smiling faces at the booth. There will be jar cookies, sidewalk chalk, aprons (one size fits most) and order forms for custom crochet Granny square blankets.

Tyler Durden is my spirit animal

By nature, I’m high strung. I’ve never really learned the art of relaxing and my coping skills are non-existent. Once upon a time, a therapist tried to teach me to meditate. I fell asleep. I watch Fight Club about once a month and I still think to myself, “How hard can it be to find my zen?” Answer: very. So far, I have no Tyler Durden or spirit animal. But I do have gargoyles.

I sat in silence enjoying a min-meltdown with the cat for the better part of an hour. I should have been working on Alice. Her deadline is 20 days away. Instead, an unexpected pet emergency severed my brittle grasp on reality today and sent me running for one of the most difficult to write, unpalatable sections of Memento Mori. Coming from the author, that says a lot. But, it’s got the potential to be a thing of beauty. For once, I’m not afraid of where it’ll take me.

One of the best things I took away from one of my literary courses (apologies for blanking on the title of said course,) was the concept of the Shitty First Draft (SFD). Most of my projects are in SFD form at the moment and it’s taken a lot for me to accept that the first draft doesn’t have to be perfect. It’s a draft.  The important thing is to get all the ideas down on paper before they disappear into the ether that is my brain. And that’s exactly it. Half the time I feel like I’m grasping at vapors.

The desire to be unique/creative can be as intimidating as Julia Child at a bake sale. Even if you’re experimenting with an old idea, it’s your job as a writer to present it as something fresh. My job as a horror writer is a bit more tricky. I have to scare, scar, repulse, and ruin part of you all while creating at least some redeeming element that keeps you reading. 

Working on two major projects at once is beginning to seem like merrily skipping into Mordor for shits and giggles. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. The Alice deadline is getting closer and I still have no idea what I’m doing. Truth is, I had no idea in the first place. I’ve let myself get so distracted with perfection that I seem to have forgotten that the SFD is there to save me.

So, thank you Jennifer for trying to teach me to relax a bit with my writing. Lord knows drilling that into my thick skull was no easy fete. Four years later though, it’s finally sticking. Now, if I could find that damn spirit animal, I’d be all set.