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 crafts, 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.
(another example)
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)
