Meredith Duran, Her Books and Crafts

We all have our Waterloos. Mine is Jo-Ann Fabrics.

No, seriously. If you like me, don't take me to a craft store. At my first glimpse of paper flowers, I will shrink against a shelf display and tremble in wordless awe. Puffy paints! Green styrofoam! Glitter. Bolts of cloth, soft and glimmering. The smell of wood and wax and potpourri. There is so much cool stuff in these places, and I have no idea what to do with any of it. And if you do know? Then I envy you tremendously.

This envy was born a year or so back, when I'd finished the revisions for my first historical, The Duke of Shadows, and also a particularly difficult paper for a class on social theory. My mind felt like a dried-out sponge; it begged to be replenished with some creative, hands-on project. But what does a fiction writer do to be creative? Why, she boots up Microsoft Word. And I'd had enough, thank you very much, of wincing at computer glare. I wanted to produce something tangible—something I could hold, wear, put up on a wall.

I'd been reading Jennifer Crusie's blog and was amazed by the collages she made. So off I went to Michael's Crafts to pick up some posterboard, a wooden frame, and glue. But I couldn't make the shelves of the makeshift shrine stay upright. I decided I'd do it panorama-style, like those little dioramas I'd made in sixth grade when we were studying the Civil War. (Cotton balls make great cannon smoke! I still remembered that, at least.) On JC's blog, thrift stores were recommended as great sources for collage items, so I went next to the Salvation Army, where my confusion only grew. Teacups, dolls, pastel prints of ocean views… none of this would fit into the wooden frame. I resorted to cutting out pictures from magazines. After a few nights of feverish pasting, I had…something. My best friend came over to take a look.

"Right," she said. "Maybe you should go back to writing."

I refused to accept defeat. A couple of months later, I enrolled in a knitting class. Back I went to Michael's, delighted that I had a legitimate excuse to feel up that rainbowed wall of yarn. Alas, my teacher was a right-hander, and neither she nor I could figure out where I was going wrong in my attempts to mirror her. I finally mastered knit and purl, but the whole concept of "gauge" stumped me. To date, I've made twenty-odd scarves, and six hats with huge holes in the crown (excellent for a spring chill, I assure my friends). No one in my circle of acquaintances needs another scarf. Including me.

I'm not sure what craft I should attempt to master next. But over the last six weeks, my thoughts have increasingly strayed to aisles packed with Fimo clay, glass buttons and ribbon trimming. I tell myself that I deserve a craft. I've spent most of the last six weeks curled up on a couch with my laptop, in weather so cold that frost formed on the inside of my living room windows. I was copyediting my second historical (Bound by Your Touch) and on deadline for completing my third (Written on Your Skin); I sat out celebrations for my birthday and New Year's to finish it. The moment I typed THE END, I had to put down the computer and begin to pack for a cross-country move. Forty-eight hours after that, I was on the road in a sixteen-foot rental truck with a car in tow, driving through a blizzard that chased us all the way from Chicago to New Jersey. Do I not deserve a bit of paper mache?

The problem, of course, is that I have no idea what paper mache (or Fimo, or ribbon trimming) is for. But I am firmly convinced that in these mysterious objects lies the secret to revitalizing my muse. I think of it this way: children know instinctively how to let their minds wander aimlessly, and in their daydreams, they often discover visions rich with wondrous possibilities. But after weeks of strategizing about how to meet deadlines and race through my to-do lists, my mind automatically balks at the prospect of idleness. It requires some excuse that might allow it to wander. I'm thinking that this excuse might involve paste. Or glitter. I do love glitter.

I therefore humbly request the readers of this blog to share their crafty expertise. How do you get creative, off-screen? And what crafty art forms would you recommend for folks whose enthusiasm might, um, outstrip their native talent?

Coming June 2009
BOUND BY YOUR TOUCH
ISBN-10: 1416592636
ISBN-13: 978-1416592631

Silver-tongued Viscount Sanburne is London’s favorite scapegrace. Alas, Lydia Boyce has no interest in being charmed. When his latest escapade exposes a plot to ruin her family, she vows to handle it herself. Certainly she requires no help from a too-handsome dilettante whose main achievement is being scandalous. But Sanburne’s golden charisma masks a sharper mind and darker history than she realizes. He shocks Lydia by breaking past her prim facade to the woman beneath . . . and the hidden fire no man has ever recognized. But as she follows him into a world of intrigue, she will learn that the greatest danger lies within—in the shadowy, secret motives of his heart.