Yarn
Originally published at Lindsay Eland dot com. Please leave any comments there.
I cannot knit.
Well, at least not any more.
I used to be able to knit a little bit, but really my husband, even now, is much, much better than me.
But I love to watch people knit. Their fingers bobbing and weaving, their fingers fluttering back and forth, the tapping and clacking of the long needles together as slowly
slowly
slowly
row
after
row
after
row
descends beneath the needles.
The yarn is fuzzy looking and soft, the stitches even and tight…yet not too tight, the different colors flecked and woven into each other forming a scarf, mittens, a hat, a blanket…helping you keep warm against the cold.
So it’s no wonder they call writing stories “spinning a yarn.” And it’s really a magical phrase actually.
Creating one thing out of something else entirely.
A ball of yarn becomes a row which becomes a row which becomes a blanket.
Chosen words become crafted sentences which become paragraphs which become chapters which become a story.
line
after
line
after
line
words weave in and out of each other, the different elements of voice, character, theme, and setting flecking the story with color and life…helping you keep warm against the cold of life.