"Knitting is so relaxing," I said when people asked about my hobby--even when they didn't. "You should try it." I forced yarn and needles at them. Some them walked away. Others ran.
All I wanted to do was knit. I couldn't stop myself. I wasn't myself. Something else had taken over.
Then came the hard stuff--intarsia, lacework, cables: stitch after stitch, row after row.
"Let's go to a movie." My boyfriend tried to hide his worry. "Dancing? To the art gallery?" He gulped. "To the ballet?"
"Wish I could but I have to work late." That was a lie. I shuck off to my local yarn shop where I bought yarn--more and more yarn. I hide it in every closet in my tiny apartment and under the bed.
It's too late for me. I'm lost to the click, click, click. But you, my friend, there's hope for you. No, don't touch those needles. Stay away from that yarn. Heed my words--never cast on.
*Re-written from a story published in my first book, Novelty Yarn.
Published on Sunday, April 29 (at approximately 5 PM PT)
Sharing my Author Journey...
Feeling like I could increase the amount of work I get done daily with a little structure, this week I began assigning time for each task (social networking, preparing submissions, working on projects, etc.). Hopefully, this will yield positive results. We shall see. : )
And so far, so good. I've learned to treat my schedule like an outline. It's not craved in wood, more like in jello--flexible when necessary. And the experience continues.