Three years ago I was bored and dissatisfied with my boring and dissatisfying life, so I took an online writing class from the local college. This, too, was boring and dissatisfying, mainly because the teacher wanted to keep everything rated G (“no violence or language of any kind”) and when she wasn’t telling us to write about wide-eyed kittens romping with balls of yarn, she was pimping out her own books. “Today we’re going to do a happy, fuzzy character sketch. Do you know what will help you with this? My book, How to Sketch Your Own Fuzzy Character, forsalenowinyouruniversitybookstore.”
So the class was a bust, but I picked up one fabulous idea from it. She said that every author needs to take time at least once a week to do something creative that isn’t writing. I think it gets the gears going, but pushes your mind in a different direction. Also, it lets me do fun things under the pretense of “working”. So I make jewelery or work on my (nearly nonexistent) sewing skills. I painted the piano red last year, and now she’s more fun to play.
Today I made a voodoo doll, cut out the pattern for a purple ninja, and made a chocolate cream pie for desert this evening. I love “working”.
Pieces out: 35