Some would argue that the mere act of giving is its own reward. That reward is intangible--rather than tangible--a warm fuzzy feeling. Never downplay the warm fuzzies. They give you a high better than any drug.
(an example of the knitting I did for babies)
ArtCraft on Salt Spring Island is a seasonal gallery--open during the summer months. They sell locally-made (on-island and from the surrounding smaller islands) art and craft, hence the name. Years ago, when I was a participating crafter, I sailed to them twice a year--to drop off and pick up.
I was on a pickup run--sailing home with a small bag full of knitting. Among the items were several baby toques. Something made me stop reading my novel. Something made me notice them--a mother and her baby. They were so cute together. I carried the toques over to them.
After a brief explanation, I opened the bag.
She dug through her purse and found her wallet. "How much--?"
I shook my head. "No, it's a gift."
The look on her face... What a reward.
She popped the hat on her child's head. Oh, so cute.
Another idea: "You probably have friends with babies."
"A few," she told me.
"Here, these are for them." I handed her the bag. And the warm fuzzies doubled. In fact, when I'm blue, that memory still picks me up.
You tell me: generosity or selfishness?
(before its seams were sown and ends were woven in--and it was sent away Iceland)
Next post: Sunday, March 4th (approximately 5 PM PST)
What exactly do we writers owe our readers? What do we promise them they will discover in our books? In my short article, I discuss the author-reader contract with regard to the opening sentence, the hook.
Sharing my author journey...
(and caught in the act of working on a sweater for a baby)