Writing About Knitting by Leanne Dyck

Today’s post is a labyrinth—circles within circles. But please bear with me.

Thanks to the Mayne Island library book sale, my collection of books recently grew. And thanks to a friend’s keen eyes and fine taste in literature, one of the books I captured was Jane Urquhart’ s The Underpainter. Jane Urquhart is one of my favourite authors. Away, a book she wrote prior to The Underpainter, is one of my favourite books. 

Last Monday Ms. Urquhart was a guest on The Next Chapter. On the show, she disclosed that she crawled from book to book under a dark cloud of self-doubt. I was surprised when I heard this prolific author say that she consistently doubted her ability to produce a book—a doubt I share about my own writing.

Ms. Urquhart also confessed that she never re-read past work. 

There is danger there—as I recently learnt when I re-read some stories of my own. Will the old work measure up to my present standards? Will it exceed it?

I’ve been writing since I was a pre-teen. I’ve been writing about knitting since 2005.

It all started when my knitting pattern designer website went live in 2002. My web designer, Monica Hogg, was a font of knowledge regarding this new venture. Monica explained that I needed to create new content for my site. Failing to do so would mean that my site would be buried by the suffocating mass of sites that exist on the Internet, she told me.

Fearful of this outcome, I asked Monica to add a blog to my site. On this blog I posted tutorials, personal essays and short stories. To my surprise you did find me. Encouraged by your support, I continued to write.

Last February, overcome by the fear that I wouldn’t be able produce another book, I was hit by an idea which felt like a semi trailer.  I’ve already written another book. 

I unearthed and steeled myself as I prepared to re-read my collection of writing about knitting. Separating the cream from the milk took courage; polishing the writing required work but I persevered. Then I surveyed my collection of patterns—I choose the most popular and my favourites to accompany my other writing. (Photos of some of these I’ve scattered throughout this post).

In January 2011, upon the publication of The Sweater Curse, I closed my knitwear design business.           

Recently, I’ve received emails from knitters interested in purchasing my patterns. Unfortunately, I was forced to tell them that the patterns were no longer available because I’d closed my business.

I view Writing About Knitting as a way to continue to share my patterns with knitters and to celebrate my years as a knitwear designer.

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Next post:  Please welcome Author Colleen Cross

The story behind the design: book sweater by Leanne Dyck

Many years ago, my husband lent me one of his dearly loved books. I carried it back and forth to work with me every day. Month after month, the book travelled in and out of my backpack for stolen moments of reading. 

One day, my husband asked, "Are you finished reading my book?"

"Not quite yet."

"Well, can I have it back then?" 

I found the book and handed it to him.

He wasn't pleased. The book was damaged beyond repair. 

The disappointment in his eyes was haunting and inspired me to design my first knitting pattern—a book sweater.

Designing the book sweater has not only kept countless books safe but also paved the way for my further exploration in knitwear design.
 

My career in knitwear design began in August 2002 and concluded in January 2011. During this time, I was a member of both the Knitwear Designer Association and the Canadian Knitwear Designers and Artisans. My collection consists of 25 designs, and I have sold patterns to knitters in Canada, the USA, the UK, Japan, Israel, and Australia. My designs have been featured in magazines such as A Needle Pulling Thread. I also hand-knit my designs for a juried gallery on Salt Spring Island called ArtCraft. Year after year, my baby sweaters were a popular sale item. My passion is to welcome new knitters to the craft through my designs.

And... And these days, while I dream of future book launches, I knit book sweaters. So far, I've knit approximately 300. They fit a standard-sized paperback.

Knitting: design your own stitch pattern by Leanne Dyck

Have you ever tried to "uninvent" (I say "uninvented" because as Elizabeth Zimmerman pointed out, the craft is so old that it is very hard to invent something new in knitting.) your own stitch pattern? It's fun and easy. Start with a basic stitch pattern--for example, seed stitch.

seed stitch (over an even number of stitches)

Row 1: knit 1, purl 1--continue to end of row

Row 2: purl 1, knit 1--continue to end of row

Repeat rows 1 and 2 for pattern

The seed stitch is a fun stitch pattern to alter. Here are some of the stitch patterns that I have "uninvented" while playing with the seed stitch.

Here are some ideas you can use to "uninvent" your own stitch pattern.

Combine two stitch patterns.

I combined purl and seed stitch.

Here's what I came up with...

Row 1: purl one, knit one--continue to end of row

Row 2: purl

Repeat rows 1 and 2 for pattern

Or

Experiment with the number of stitches in the stitch pattern.

Here's what I came up with...

Row 1: knit two, purl two--continue to end of row

Row 2: purl two, knit two--continue to end of row

Repeat rows 1 and 2 for pattern

Or

Experiment with the number of rows in the stitch pattern.

Here's what I came up with...

Rows 1 and 2: knit one, purl one--continue to end of rows

Rows 3 and 4: purl one, knit one--continue to end of rows

Repeat rows 1 to 4 for pattern

Or...

Happy uninventing

Knitted in Love

One of my island neighbours knit her husband a toque. Many years later he still wears it.

She tells him that it has become ugly with age --he wears it. She explains that the yarn has become pilled --he wears it. She says the colours have faded --he wears it.

"You knit it for me. You knit it for me when we...when our love was oh so young," he coos. "I don't want a new toque. I don't want any toque but this one." He draws her into his arms and kisses her.

"Oh, I give up." She laughs.

Later, when he is having an afternoon nap, she confides in me, toque in hand. "I'm going to take this dirty old thing and burn it. You see how ugly it is!" She pauses. "It's just... it's just that...he feels the cold so. Maybe if I could make one exactly like it. The same colour --the same pattern..."

"What's the matter?"

"Well, dear. It just won't work."

"Why not?"

"I lost the pattern years ago and these old hands...they just won't hold the needles."

I take the toque from her hands, closely examining it. "I can design a toque exactly like this one."

"Really? Well, that would be wonderful dear." She says, handing me a shopping bag with a skein of yarn. I added the toque.

Arriving home, I set to work. I'm impressed by the clever design. Still, there are things I like to change. I resist the impulse. I replicated the toque. I knit the last stitch, sew the seam, and weave in the ends.

I place the remaining yarn with both toques in the shopping bag and return to my neighbour's. She is pleased to see me and enquires about my progress.

"I'm finished." I hand her the bag.

She takes the new toque out of the bag, hands the bag back to me and examines my work. She grins.

Her husband sails into the kitchen, grabs the toque and announces, "I'm going for a walk." He kisses her and waves goodbye to me.

Victorious, we wait until he leaves and then we share a laugh.

Later, with the old toque as my muse, I design a new --and better --toque. It quickly became my favourite toque pattern. I have knit it for men, women, children and infants. I keep several for myself.

Tomorrow: I share the pattern