Somehow, it seems, every creative outlet in my life is determined to thwart me.
The book I’m reading just Does. Not. Hold. My. Interest. I had high hopes for it – Vikings and Welshmen? Referencing both the Eddas and the Mabinogion? And by a renowned fantasy author? Sure to be a hit. Admittedly I’m only so-so on the Norse, but I adore Wales/Cymru/the Mabinogion/Things Welsh. And yet. And yet. I’m bored. Pryderi help me, I’m so bored. I’m halfway through and I’m not really sure what the plot is, other than various countries have been at war in the past, and maybe some of them are headed towards it again? Also some frankly disturbing depictions of sex, none of it strictly consensual…well, what’s-his-face did just make out with the faerie chick, does that count? Still, if a book has failed to impress me in the first 240 pages, I think I am justified in setting it aside. Even though it frankly hurts me physically to leave a book unfinished…I’m getting irrational desires to destroy this one. Violently.
Then there’s the socks. And the other ones. The brown ones have been hanging around for nearly a year. I finally managed to get some momentum going on them again…only to realize I’d mistakenly knit about 70 rounds with the wrong sized needles. A-frogging I went, but I’m too grumpy to work on them right now. This is supposed to be my first design, but I hate it so much at this point I’m seriously tempted to scrub it. Except I have to finish this pair because I’ve knit 70% of a sock and I’m not losing that much work, godsdamnit!
The blue ones are…an experiment, one which in theory causes less of a headache than the aforementioned design. Except I’m having issues with the heel shaping…issues which are exacerbated by my extremely weird foot shape. So I seem to be producing something that will fit neither my feet nor any normal feet. And all of the frogging and re-knitting has made a) me exceptionally cranky and b) the yarn crunchy and in dire need of some rehab.
Then there’s the Starghan. It had been progressing merrily, but as the circumference increased, it became harder and harder to ignore the fact that I was knitting, not a flat disk, but a hyperplane. Apparently increasing 10 st every other round is too much. It was turning ruffly. So, despite the fact that I’d already knit a good 300 yards or so…I ripped it all out. ALL OF IT. The yarn is currently drying from a bout of rehab, and I’ve cast on again with the yarn I hadn’t yet included (to be fair, this is a blanket, so I was only about 5% done with it. Still, 5% of a blanket is a lot of work.)
And then there’s the novel. Oh, the novel. I’ve been going back and adding scenes and reworking scens and strengthening the plot, etc. Only now that we’ve gotten to the actual exile bit (i.e. the last 80% of the book) it feels childish and doesn’t fit with the new-and-improved beginning and I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO. (Mitu, expect a call tomorrow evening. I tried bouncing ideas off of M. but she was on painkillers and doesn’t know the story well enough.)
AND THEN I HAD TO BATTLE MY CAT AND REASSERT MY DOMINANCE. I swear to every god ever invented, and probably a few that haven’t been yet, THE WORLD IS OUT TO GET ME.
On that note, I’m going to rustle up some chocolate and resume work on my (now pitifully small) Starghan.