Champagne and Socks

So my plan was that I would work my six months on my PhD, turn in my candidacy proposal (at my uni you get accepted into the program and then you have 6 months to write your project proposal which needs to be accepted for you to gain candidacy) and then go on my mat leave Oct 1. And that meant from Twelfth Planet Press as well as my Phd. Go on leave. Hiatus. Do not work. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.

And then somewhere along the line this plan became, hand in PhD proposal, go on mat leave from PhD and then finish up a whole bunch of TPP projects, have baby. I don’t really know why I haven’t accomplished more in the last 6 months, especially since I’ve been working full time on all this stuff. Which is to say, I don’t give myself slack for the fact that I felt sick for a large chunk of my pregnancy and tired for the rest of it. There was a lot of napping (!) in the beginning and now there is a lot of not sleeping and walking around in a zombified state.

(Seriously, WTF biology? In what universe does it make sense to prepare a woman to go in to a year of not sleeping with … not sleeping? Wouldn’t it make more sense to make her sleep lots?? I can’t stand it when people keep telling me to rest up and sleep now cause you won’t sleep later. Can’t fucking sleep more than 4 hours in a block of time. And OMG the discomfort. Let me tell you, 1 crying baby waking me up at night versus peeing every 3 minutes, hormones that keep me WIDE AWAKE for 19 hours a day, pain in my hands and elbows, numb fingers, not being able to sleep in any of my preferred sleeping positions, pulling muscles when trying to roll over? Yeah, uhuh. I’ll take the baby.)

Anyway, suffice to say, I got a lot less done than I thought I would. I didn’t factor in my moving more slowly. That never really occurred to me. And I still have at least 5 major projects to deliver before I deliver. And I’ve been stressed out a bit about this in the last couple of weeks. Especially since my PhD proposal is still not really in any good shape – I have 7 days left to finish it. I’m not sure if it can be done. And I have at least 3 books I’m hoping to get to print as well. Ahem. And some other stuff. And then stuff I wanted to get ahead on before I do have the sleeping in one hour blocks thing going on.

And then Thursday night happened. And as we’re driving up the freeway at 10pm, I’m thinking about what an idiot I am. And what really would be the worst case scenario if I don’t meet my deadlines. And really WTF was I thinking about not taking 6 weeks maternity leave, let alone 4? And the whole, “what would I do anyway if  I wasn’t working?” is not the real question – the question I should be asking is, what am I doing to myself, and my body by pushing so hard? And why?

So in theory, I’ve slowed down. Slowed my brain down, anyhow. I’m not going to panic about not meeting deadlines. I’m going to work when I can and do what I can and see what happens. And I’m remembering that I have people I can delegate things to and I’m working on handing that over. But you know the most annoying thing? The hardest thing to get myself to do (and this is the real reason my PhD work is behind) is to read. I avoid to do items that are “Read X” like the plague. I’m a publisher and I procrastinate on reading. Sigh. And then of course today, after only getting to bed (not sleep, but at least into bed) by 4am, I was reading cause that’s kinda low energy stuff and geez the reading for my Phd is really fascinating. Sigh. What am I going to do with myself, huh?

I’m guessing this will be the first of many in this series.

Up front I’ll say that there is a happy ending to this story.

Thursday night, we had a bit of a bub scare. I’ve pretty much clued on so far that this whole gig is rigged so you lose. And when you embrace that, you can kinda let it all just roll off you. I guess that’s the expression I’ve seen a lot on the many mothers I have known. (it could be the same expression for: yeah I’m too tired to fight the power of oppression but I did spit in your sandwich and use two day old tuna).

Anyway. The info I’ve been given is that even at this stage of the pregnancy a baby is supposed to move a certain number of times an hour and a day. And that if I notice the movement slowing, I should follow a series of steps ending in giving the midwives a ring. So we record Galactic Suburbia on Thursday night and I’m drinking lemonade during that two hours. After the episode, I go and hang out on the couch and watch TV and then I’m sewing and whatnot. And after a while, I realise that I don’t remember the baby moving. I think about it, and the last time I remember was with my morning fake coffee. Which is weird cause I’d had that sugary drink and  didn’t remember the baby moving at all during the podcast. So I mention this to C and he says, “have some ice cream.” Aside: seriously, it IS pretty cool that a solution to a problem is icecream. Normally, that solution would be inappropriate to apply.

I have a bowl of ice cream. Nothing. *THAT* is really weird. So I say to C, “Nothing!” And he says, “You’re supposed to wait 30 minutes. Have another bowl and wait 30 minutes.” By now, I’m starting to feel a bit ill. And panicky. But I have the second bowl of ice cream. And no movement. After 30 minutes, C comes in and checks on me and then hands me his phone with the number already dialled. I called and had a chat and the lovely midwife, after asking me questions said I should come in because I probably wouldn’t sleep well if they didn’t check it out.

I felt a bit silly about it. But the longer it went with the baby not moving, the more worried I felt. But I felt really bad about dragging C all the way up to the hospital at 10pm when it was probably going to be nothing. Not for the first time was I glad I’d married the right man – I’d gone to the bathroom and put shoes on and when I came out, he’d packed a bag (workstuff and toiletries for him and my laptop for me) and when I apologised about the whole thing he reminded me of a recent example where he had followed the SOP for an incident even though he was mostly sure it was a false alarm and that I didn’t need to explain such things to him.

And so the reality of choosing a hospital an hour drive from home kicked in – 45 mins at that time of night but 1.5 hrs to 2 hrs in peak hour. I began to think I would not like to be in labour and having to make that drive in a hurry. Or on my own. And I got maybe 1, maybe 2, kicks that whole drive in. I felt sick that whole drive up. I tried to make idle chatter but I just felt ill. What if something was wrong? What if we weren’t going to be in, monitored and sent home in an hour turnaround?

We showed up and it’s quite odd to go to a hospital late at night. I think ER makes it look much more exciting than it is. We headed to maternity and the lovely midwife whom I’d spoken to on the phone took me under her wing, busied me into a room and set me up. This is the second time we’ve been there at night (the tour for the birthing class being the other time) and I just kinda expected more noise/activity. C said I meant screaming. And um, yeah. It was basically silent. And it’s not like there weren’t other women there – the midwife said my doctor had been in about 30 minutes earlier to do a c-section so had been informed I was coming in. But we didn’t see anyone other than the three nurses who fussed over me.

They attached monitors to my belly – one to monitor for any contractions and one for the heartbeat – and took my vitals etc. It was a real relief when the heartbeat was located. It wasn’t instantly and I suspect actually the baby was facing inwards and that was the problem. They tracked the heartbeat and baby movements for about 15 minutes or so and whilst I couldn’t feel those movements at all (weird), it was really reassuring to hear that steady heartbeat. I was really glad that they didn’t make me feel silly about coming in – they reassured me that they thought I would feel better if I just came in and got checked out. It seemed like they had never thought there was an issue and maybe I’m not the only person who freaks out about what a friend called later “baby having a lazy day”. And for the 15 or 30 minutes of their time to just put a monitor on and make me feel better, with some kind bedside manner, well I felt much more reassured about coming back for the real deal and also about that long drive.

And then they sent us home.

And we got home at about midnight. And the baby held a jamboree in my uterus for about an hour and a half after that. Course it did.

I did though, nearly get my purple book two weeks early. Though on debate, they decided it better I wait til the pre admission appointment week after next.

(Thank you to everyone who was talking to me on Twitter during that experience. I really appreciated your support.)

I’ve just come home from breaking the fast with my family – the Yom Kippur (Day of Atonement) fast. Which I did not do, obviously, because pregnant. But Rosh Hashanah (Jewish New Year) and Yom Kippur are a time of reflection – for the year that you just had, the kind of person you think you are and the year you would like to come, and who you want to be in that time ahead. I’m also in reflection mode because my time as a pregnant lady is rapidly running out. It’s both taken an age and also gone by in the blink of an eye. I’ve had moments of real personal struggle – of feeling so unrelentingly unwell, of massive energy drains and now the pain is starting to kick in. I’ve also become completely captivated  by watching and feeling a living being inside me. What was at first quite confronting and weird, and uncomfortable, has become fascinating, and I guess magical. And I am starting to really look forward to meeting my kid. Weird as that sentence is to actually write.

I’ve been thinking a lot though about how this has also been our first year of marriage. Not long after the baby comes, we will celebrate our first wedding anniversary. And in some ways, I’ve been a bit regretful that I spent this first year, our newlywed year, pregnant. I didn’t know how I would be when pregnant, but I’ve spent a lot of it tired, sick, sleeping (I’ve slept way more this year than I usually do, even if I now can’t remember sleep) and a bit grumpy and short tempered. I’ve felt awful for a lot of it. And I guess I did always think your first year of marriage would be a bit more swoony than this.

On the other hand, there isn’t a day where I don’t think to myself, “I married the right man”. And I am so so grateful that we ever met. For such a long time I thought maybe that I would never meet the right person for me or that I was just destined to be alone. Or that I was too difficult or was being punished for some long forgotten heinous crime. And it took a long time to get over that wanting to not be single thing, to be ok being just me. And of course, when I did finally do that, C came along. C, who demands and expects me to be authentically me, and calls me out when I wander off that track. C, who has been patient and loving and supportive since the first day I met him, but especially so this year. C, who listens to me and hears and remembers what I say, who finishes my sentences and knows what I’m thinking. And who sits next to me and gently squeezes my hand when a conversation veers out into territory that upsets me, a squeeze that says, “I know this is offensive to you but it’s ok to let it slide this time.” Who helps me pick my battles and stay focussed on what’s really important. And who never ever makes me feel bad or need to be apologetic about who and what I am. And who challenges me intellectually and morally to be better and more.

It’s impossible to be superwoman – to have it all, at once. And this year it’s been rather quite confronting for me to actually have to face up that truth. I can’t both be in the labour ward AND at World Fantasy Con. Much as I would like to. The reality of having to make choices, of having to choose between things, and that it’s something that I as a woman am forced to do in ways that my husband is not. It’s been upsetting to finally have that moment come. (And to counterbalance that with being so very lucky, that at 37, I was still able to be in this position.) It would be extra hard for me to not be in Brighton, were I not going to be very busy right around that time. But it’s really made me have to think through what this means for me going forward. I am lucky to have other mentors around me – women who have done it before me, and have much to offer in advice and support. And I have a very loving husband who is prepared and capable who pulls his fair weight on this team. But there are some things he cannot do for me, or instead of me. And … that’s the really confronting bit. But when I bring him my dilemmas – what, for example, does this mean for next year, when I might still be breastfeeding? – he offers options and solutions. I’m very lucky and so very glad to have married this man. To finally feel like I am in the right place, with the right person.

I’m not really sure what I thought our first year of marriage would be like. We already lived together. We’ve already done the long distance thing when he’s been at sea. We are the very best of friends. It’s been in some ways no different to what it was before. And yet, this year has brought me all sorts of challenges – we travelled overseas together for the first time (and it was awesome), I finally came to the decision to quit my job and try this publishing thing for serious (something he’d told me a long time ago that he was prepared to support me when, and there would be a when, he said, I decided to leap) and when I needed to quit my job early due to morning sickness. And for all these things, C has been there as a sounding board, a support, never a judge, and never ever anything but my cheering squad. He gives me the confidence to believe in myself. And that I’m not in this alone.

We have this next big thing on our journey together coming up to round off this first year. And there is noone else in the world I would want here with me other than him. I don’t think I could do this without him. I’m scared – terrified to tell the truth – but knowing he’ll be standing beside me, squeezing my hand, it will be ok.

I have been remiss in not posting this here so for anyone who is going to be in Perth and is interested in a con stream for writers, consider checking this out. Also of important note is that Friday is the closing date to register interest in submitting work to be critted by Juliet Marillier and Lee Battersby. We’re interested in fostering a sf writers crit group in Perth and are hoping this friendly crit session might kickstart some interest in a repeat event.

Twelfth Planet Press CrimeScene Writing Stream

Saturday, 12 October, 2013

http://www.crimescenewa.org.au/

Pitch Twelfth Planet Press

Take an opportunity to pitch your completed manuscript to editor and publisher Alisa Krasnostein in a one on one pitch appointment. You will be given 5 to 8 minutes to provide a brief synopsis of your story, how it fits in with Twelfth Planet Press’ publishing line and how it stands out from the slushpile.

Twelfth Planet Press novels push boundaries to question, inspire, engage and challenge. We are specifically looking to acquire dynamic, original genre material outside that typically considered by mainstream publishers. We are reading for science fiction, fantasy, horror and crime. We will consider borderline literary, new weird, steampunk, space opera, hard science fiction, soft science fiction, urban fantasy, cyberpunk, military science fiction, young adult, paranormal romance and everything in between. We will also consider novellas in this pitch session.

Pitch appointment slots are limited. To register for your slot, email Linda: Linda@spiralarmevents.com

Critique session with Juliet Marillier, Lee Battersby and Alisa Krasnostein

Join writers Juliet Marillier and Lee Battersby and editor Alisa Krasnostein for a critique session. Selected manuscripts from participants will be critiqued individually by the panellists to an open audience session.

It is our intention to provide a friendly, open and supportive environment that will allow Perth writers to meet, network and develop group critiquing skills. Stay around for drinks after the writers’ stream and meet fellow Perth writers.

What you need to do:
1. Register your interest in participating by emailing Linda: Linda@spiralarmevents.com by 13 Sept 2013. Please provide a brief (one paragraph) description of your writing experience and a brief description of the piece you would be submitting for critique.

2. You will be advised by 18 Sept 2013 whether you have been selected to participate. If selected, you must submit your work by 20 Sept 2013. Manuscripts must comply with the following requirements:
Novel: a one page synopsis and the first 10 to 15 pages.
Short story: Up to 7000 words. Full manuscripts should be submitted.

All submissions should be sent as Word documents attached to a covering email. Documents should be double-spaced ie 15 pages means 15 double-spaced pages.

Juliet Marillier was born and brought up in Dunedin, New Zealand, and now lives in Western Australia. Her historical fantasy novels for adults and young adults have been translated into many languages and have won a number of awards including the Aurealis, the American Library Association’s Alex Award, the Sir Julius Vogel Award and the Prix Imaginales. Among Juliet’s works are the Sevenwaters novels, the Bridei Chronicles and the Shadowfell series, of which the second novel, Raven Flight, was published in July 2013.

Juliet’s lifelong love of folklore, fairy tales and mythology is a major influence on her writing. When not busy writing, Juliet tends to a small pack of waifs and strays. Find out more at http://www.julietmarillier.com.

Lee Battersby is the Aurealis, Australian Shadows and Writers of the Future-winning author of the novels “The Corpse-Rat King” (Angry Robot Books, 2012) and “The Marching Dead” (Angry Robot, 2013) as well as the collection “Through Soft Air” (Prime Books, 2006) and over 70 stories in the US, Europe and Australia. His writing has been praised for its consistent attention to voice and narrative muscle. He lives online at www.leebattersby.com and blogs at http://battersblog.blogspot.com.

Alisa Krasnostein is editor and publisher at independent Twelfth Planet Press, a freshly minted creative publishing PhD student and recently retired environmental engineer. She part of the twice Hugo nominated and Peter McNamara Award winning Galactic Suburbia Podcast team. In 2011, she won the World Fantasy Award for her work at Twelfth Planet Press. In her spare time she is a critic, reader, reviewer, podcaster, runner, environmentalist, knitter, quilter and puppy lover.

The Invisibility of Elmore Leonard: Writing Workshop with Matthew Chrulew

When Elmore Leonard died in August this year, tributes flowed, and his ten rules for writing were cited all over the net. The influence of his gritty and humorous short stories and novels, many of which were made into films and television series (such as 3:10 to Yuma, Get Shorty and Justified), can be found throughout crime fiction and beyond. Alongside his enticing villains and outlaws, Leonard was famous for bringing a Hemingwayesque restraint to genre fiction: distracting description was minimised and tight dialogue carried the drama. His was the art of getting out of the way. His ten rules advised writers to avoid weather, prologues, said-bookisms, adverbs, exclamation points, dialect, description, and “hooptedoodle”—that is, “obvious writing” that readers might notice or skip. Yet their repetition often ignores the qualifications and exceptions in his original article, his awareness of the singularity of his style. We will take a look at his writing and his rules, ask about their value and place, and attempt to write some Elmore Leonard dialogue of our own.

Matthew Chrulew’s stories have appeared in Aurealis, Antennae, ASIM, Pseudopod, Canterbury 2100 and Macabre: A Journey Through Australian Horror. They have been reprinted in Australian Dark Fantasy and Horror vol 3. (2008) and The Year’s Best Australian Fantasy and Horror 2010. His novella The Angælien Apocalypse (Twelfth Planet Press) was a finalist in the 2010 Aurealis Awards. He teaches creative writing at Curtin University and blogs at matthewchrulew.wordpress.com

How to be a Professional Writer

In this seminar, author Marianne Delacourt/de Pierres discusses how to make the transition from hobbyist/emerging writer to professional. Some of the topics she will discuss are branding, when to give up the day job, work habits and networking. As a full time writer with twenty years of experience and (soon to be) seventeen published novels, Marianne will share her insights and help you avoid her mistakes.

Marianne de Pierres is the author of the acclaimed Parrish Plessis and award-winning Sentients of Orion science fiction series. The Parrish Plessis series has been translated into eight languages and adapted into a roleplaying game. She’s also the author of a teen dark fantasy series.

Marianne writes award-winning crime under the pseudonym Marianne Delacourt. Visit her websites: at www.mariannedepierres.com, www.tarasharp.com and www.burnbright.com.au

This week is a bit of a countdown for me as by Saturday, the baby is deemed cooked enough to be able to be delivered at the hospital I have chosen rather than at the women’s hospital specialising in preterm and emergency type deliveries. It is a big milestone because it says the baby is able to survive outside the womb etc.

I had my doctor’s appointment yesterday and started working on my birth plan. I have to say that choosing a doctor is one of the most important things (and privileges) to me. With my various and unrelated medical issues coupled with some mental health concerns, I chose a doctor that my sister recommended since a friend of hers with complications had seen her and  my sister had seen once or twice during her own pregnancy. I prefer to see women doctors. Something that became obvious to me when I was first sick with Crohn’s disease is that women’s parts and women’s hormones can affect progression and symptoms of diseases differently to men and if you don’t experience those quirks, you may not instantly account for them. Or understand them. Which was the case for me describing issues with exacerbation of my Crohn’s symptoms at certain times of the month to my first few (male) doctors.

I instantly liked my doctor on the first appointment when I asked her if it was true I was having a “geriatric pregnancy” – a term, by the way, I have only heard male doctors use. She scoffed at the term, rolled her eyes and said, “oh yes, cause you’re *so* ancient”. My GP had given me the same response. Instant bond.

Yesterday, I had a frank and open discussion with her about things and my concerns. I’m so happy with how supportive she is – she’s very professional and calm and cool but also very funny and concerned that I have the experience I want. I haven’t yet asked if there is a teleportation option though, which is really the experience I want.

What strikes me most about pregnancy so far is how much difference there is for me in knowing something intellectually versus experiencing it emotionally. For me, I guess a lot of my feminism was intellectual. I’ve argued for and believed in it vehemently since I was very young. And my views have not changed. But I’ve come to understand a lot of issues at a deeper level, having not really thought a lot of them through at more than an intellectual level. This is something my friends had warned me about. But it’s still quite something to actually live through.

Obviously there is all the judgment stuff that you experience. You can’t walk five steps without people having to tell you how to do something, based on how they did it. As though all experiences are the same. That’s been my first lesson – my pregnancy experience is mine, and unlike anyone else’s. For a start, I have Crohn’s disease. I went in with a few symptoms which pregnancy heightened. I have food allergies and intolerances and am vegetarian. All of which means that the ways in which I can deal with different symptoms and issues is going to be complicated. So many people told me “you wait til [insert horrible symptom or craving] happens” and you know? Most of that shit didn’t. I didn’t have heightened sense of smell (my smell is already pretty heightened normally), almost no smells turned my stomach (maybe I couldn’t stand peppermint for a bit?), I haven’t had any real cravings (like, maybe strawberries? And I would have eaten maybe 3 or 4 punnets in the last 8 months?), in fact I’ve had almost no appetite for most of it, I felt nauseous constantly til 22 weeks. I felt very tired for a lot of it. In fact, I’ve only really started to feel *good* in the last couple of weeks. Yesterday, the midwife said she thought that was the first time I’d said and sounded that I felt well the whole time. I haven’t had much swelling though I have had carpal tunnel. And I can’t much sleep. And so it goes.

But this whole thing has taught me that experience is individual. And whilst advice is helpful, it’s not always useful or applicable. I think also there is a difference between people who are genuinely listening to what you’re going through and providing a supportive ear and some suggestions versus the people who just want another chance to work through their own horror story by downloading it on you or by trying to one-up your experience. With the latter, I am developing a technique whereby I smile and nod and flick elevator music on in my head. That’s the *polite* and *feminine* way to deal with the driveby when really I want to be able to just tell em to piss off. But you know, that would be “aggressive*.

I have a new respect for women who try many times for a successful pregnancy. I always understood the emotional turmoil of losing a baby. But I never really thought about the physical aspects of that. After going through my first trimester, and being aware that mine was not even the most extreme of experiences, I began to think about women who try and miscarry multiple times. I do not think I could go through that 5 or 6 times and feel so unwell each time only to then have such a devastating outcome (on the other hand, I was lucky in my pregnancy so how can I really understand the flipside? Of really wanting a baby, of carrying it inside you to term and not being able to?). And the physical strain as well of being pregnant – I now look at women who have 5 or 6 babies and I just marvel at how much toll that takes out of you physically – the pregnancy, the birth and the feeding afterwards. (And bearing in mind that not everyone has the same experience as me, I guess if you have relatively few symptoms and easy births, this whole thing would be a lot less taxing and a lot more enjoyable).

The freedom of choice is something that is at the forefront of my mind right now. There are a lot of choices. A lot of ways of doing things. A lot of things to prioritise. And a lot of options and methods which will only become apparent as to which one is right for you and your baby when your baby arrives. We took our parenting classes and we listened to a lot of things. I was most interested to note that whilst last week’s class on feeding stressed that it’s everyone’s choice whether to breastfeed or formula feed, no time in the class was allocated to going through the formula feeding option. We throw the word “choice” around a lot but we attach the act of judging to it in the subtext. I’m already aware of how much judgment others like to place on the choices you make. And I know this is only the beginning. Something I’ve been working on in this pregnancy is learning to set my own boundaries and enforce them. But the thing I’m realising I really need to work on is giving myself permission to feel the freedom in my freedom to choose. To make my choices and not be weighed down with the imagined judgment from others about that choice. Because if I can’t do that, I am not truly free. And I’m learning, that in this game, I will always lose.

Tags: feminism, pregnancy

An actual finished object!

Today I uncovered a thing – a thing where I discovered I had screwed something up. For long time readers, it’s no real surprise that I tend to procrastinate on things. I am excellent at distraction productivity to cover up said procrastination but I tend to avoid things that might be unpleasant. Course, that avoidance creates guilt. And the occasional panic sweats and sick feeling when you recall the guilt. But for the most part, avoidance.

The thing is though, avoidance (and guilt) is bullshit. Another one of those white background noise stresses weighing down your psyche. And as I embrace the GTD lifestyle in preparation for baby boot camp (8-9 weeks to go) I’m discovering that there is no room for avoidance in this way of living and in the end, the only way to feel truly free is to face the thing you are avoiding. So, whilst I continue this last gasp of avoidance on today’s discovery, let me write this post as a sermon to myself on avoiding avoidance.

FINISHED OBJECT!

I actually finished this during the recording of the last Galactic Suburbia episode but then had to get the cushion insert from Ikea before it counted as completed. It’s a cushion cover. And it’s a big deal because I bought this pattern kit possibly at the first Quilt and Craft Fair I attended something like 5 or 6 years or more ago. And procrastinated on it. Why? I have a fear of cutting beautiful fabric – what if  I screw it up? And also, the instructions looked hard. And I needed to translate them from sewing machine to hand sewing. And that all seemed too hard and too scary. So it sat there. In my stash pile. Moving house with me however many times. If you don’t actually sew the project, did you waste your money?

Anyway. I finally cut the material when I was doing some cutting of fabrics for a different project. Now that my work desk is always left as a clear space, it makes pulling out my cutting board to cut fabric whenever I feel like it much easier. And when I was trying to work out how to cut strips for my Jinny Beyer block of the month quilt (more on that later), I figured I may as well do the same for this one. And then I took the cut pieces with me to Conflux (and then on to Tassie) to sew. I didn’t actually get round to it but it was a major step forward out of avoidance.

Then it sat in the ziplock bag for a couple more months as the instructions for piecing still looked scary.

But as part of getting to cruise control on GTD, I audited my craft room, and every nook and cranny round the house and under the beds (I’m still sorting through random garbage bags from moves of just stuff shoved in) and created a Crafts Project list and a Next Craft Actions list. And this project of course was on the list. With Next Actions, all you have to do is answer the question “What’s next?” You don’t have to know the whole plan of a project of A -> B -> C -> D -> Finished. You just need to know A. And then when you’ve finished A you figure out What’s Next? etc. So in answering that, I only had to understand the very first step of the instructions and execute that. And so on. There was some winging it required. The fabric in the original kit was never straight cut or the right size to start with. But then, when I thought about it, I realised, finished is better than perfect so never started. And it’s a pillow. It’s not the Sistine Chapel. Who is going to come along and measure the finished product and check it’s what the instructions said anyhow?

I worked step by step. The final bit is the back where you end up with a pillow slip by laying two pieces, cut of different sizes, on top of each other and sewing round the four outer edges, ending up with an inside pouch to hold the pillow. That bit was a bit boring but the great thing is, I save that kind of no brain sewing (once you figure out the step) to during things like recording a podcast. I can pick it up and put it down without needing to track anything and I can’t go anywhere for an hour or two so it’s the only thing I can do in that time! And voila! I have a finished project that took me maybe 2 hours to sew by hand after 5 or 6 years of being scared of the project!

Now to protect it from the destructive forces of the puppy! And to remember when tackling other long procrastinated and avoided projects that the most important thing is figuring out what the next step is, not needing to have the entire thing planned before you start thereby never actually starting.