O and I visited my parents last weekend in southern Virginia and we took a field trip to the Jamestown Settlement. When I last sat down to my book, I was writing a scene where the main character meets her guardian in a glass blowing studio. I have a painting background but no real knowledge of glass blowing aside from binging Blown Away on Netflix last year, so was excited to check out the glass studio and pester the staff with my questions.
But I quickly learned that glass blowing is an incredibly energy intensive art form. While glass blowers in the 1600s would have used biofuel, today’s furnace and glory holes are powered by large amounts of gas to sustain incredibly high temperatures for melting and shaping glass.
My story is set in the near future at a climate research station in the high Arctic. Even as glass blowing transitions to carbon neutral practices, it remains incredibly resource intensive. As much as I would love to include glass blowing in a character’s profile, I quickly realized that it’s unrealistic to expect that a small science community in the high Arctic would prioritize its resources towards a glass studio.
Instead, I’m exploring Inuit quilting and textile crafts and how that might be both an element of my character’s personality as well as a source of story building.
What I’m writing
Not a word!
With travel, a big launch at work, and my regular (and new-to-me) ovarian cancer screening, my creative tank was running on low this week. I spent all of Saturday cooking up fresh meals, resetting my movement routine, and going to bed early.
What I read
For Valentine’s Day, my husband and I each gifted each other a Star Trek DS9 themed valentine. This was totally unplanned!!! I gobbled up Deep Space Nine: The Dog of War comic by Mike Chen in a night.
What I’m reading
Almost done with A Council of Dolls and The True Deceiver. Picked up so many library books.
A helpful thing
During weeks like this last one, I think of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs and spoon theory. Before I can return to my writing, pick up my knitting, or commit to a movement routine, I check in with myself.
Are my most foundational needs met? Do I have good food to eat in the house? Am I getting enough rest? Do I feel safe? Is our home relatively clean? Am I taking simple steps to increase movement throughout my day? If my answer to any of these questions is a hard or unsure “no,” I prioritize my time towards actions that will set a healthy baseline for my physical and mental health. Only then do I feel like I have the energy to expand into my creativity and community.
Does this mean that my book will take twice as long to write? Maybe. Over the last year, multiple writing instructors have told me that a writer’s first novel usually takes about ten years to write. This is a marathon, not a sprint, and I don’t intend to make myself sick in the pursuit of a creative goal. My health matters and my writing practice needs to be sustainable.