Encroaching yarn
Yeah, it figures. In the previous post I’m musing about not being a knitblogger anymore, and in the very next post I’m talking about knitting again. Par for the course around here, you know. If you’ve been reading this blog …
Author: Cari
What I’m thinking about to distract myself from thinking about the world economy
You know how I know I’m not a knitblogger anymore? I miscrossed a cable on my current project (Central Park Hoodie), noticed several rows after the mistake was made, dropped the six offending stitches down those several rows to correct …
What I’m thinking about to distract myself from thinking about the world economy Read more »
neither here nor there
Some random linking for a glumgraysleepy sort of day: Reading this. And also this. Listening to these guys. Knitting a plain st st cowl (cowls are the new hoodie, by the way) in this yarn. (Hurray for stash-diving!) If you …
First day back to work
I took a week off after sending the manuscript out to my agent. That week’s up, and here I sit at the usual cafe while Thumper thumps away at playgroup. I’ve spent the past hour hammering at the business end …
“It wants to be a single word.”
The best thing (and perhaps the truest) I’ve read in the New York Times in a very long time. (Bearing in mind that I’m a shameless fiction geek.)
He didn’t look this cute at three in the morning
Dear Blog Readers: Please excuse Cari’s absence from the blog. She regrets that she will be unable to regale you today with fascinating tales involving toddler-wrangling and novel-writing and tomatoes that won’t fucking ripen. Last night the toddler in question …
He didn’t look this cute at three in the morning Read more »
Getting it “right”
Well, it’s on its way. I sent the finished third draft of the new novel off to my agent, Gail, on Saturday. It’s out of my hands, for now. It’s her first look at this book, and I’m excited to …
Housekeeping
I’ve just now finished reading Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson. Oh my god. I’ve said before, on several occasions and to various people, that it’s neither possible nor desirable to write a perfect novel. I take it back. I take it …
Ugh
What a week. I’m exhausted. Thumper’s going through this weird resistance to bedtime thing. (Okay. not that weird. I remember feeling the same way from age 3 to 31. But it’s new to him and I’m not enjoying it.) It’s …
Me? Giddily triumphant, thanks
I’m sitting in the usual Sunday cafe, where I come to write without toddler or husband interruption. (Which is not to say that I don’t appreciate the fact that I wouldn’t have this time to work if it weren’t for …