Saturday, February 16, 2002

When not publishing Knitter's Review, I support my fiber habit by serving as a freelance writer for technical publications and high-tech firms. Normally it works out really well, but every once in a while I end up in a nasty, nasty spot. And that's what happened yesterday. Hence no blog.

I'm writing an advertorial (i.e. a print version of those God-awful Suzanne Somers infomercials) for a company, I'll call it Company X. I present a detailed outline to them. We go over their feedback, step by step. All in agreement, I retreat to my cave where I do my writing.

(Not a cave, actually, but a spacious studio with two big north-facing windows overlooking our blueberry fields, rolling hills, woods, and a lake...)

So I deliver the piece. And the next morning, boom. It's like someone put Pop Rocks and Coke in their toothpaste. They hate everything they see, they tear apart phrases that they themselves had added in the first place. Then they start hounding me by phone, and then getting other people to start hounding me.

I listen to their voicemails. The voices sound uptight, serious, urgent. And I look out my window and heave a heavy sigh on their behalf.

All these people are getting their trousers in a serious twist over what is, in the grand scheme of things, totally inconsequential. And that's why I left San Francisco, that fabulous career in high-tech publishing, that whole world.

And here's what I have now:

  • A postmistress who calls me personally if I have a package to find out if I want to pick it up or if she should let the carrier deliver it.

  • A transfer station with an overall-clad old-timer who manages the place and has a penchant for Bach.

  • Kind strangers who see me shoveling snow and pull over to plow my driveway with their truck, no questions asked.

  • A place where if I feel like getting outside and being "in nature," I simply leave the house and start walking. None of this getting in the car and driving somewhere else.

Sure, the nearest sushi restaurant is an hour's drive away. Maybe I'll just take up fishing instead.

1 comment:

Alexiajoy said...

I saw you on Party Line with Beth Moriarty this morning (I'm in Folsom, Ca.) and I thoroughly enjoyed hearing about your book The Yarn Whisperer. So I headed over to your blog, Clara's Window and started reading. What really caught my interest even further was the decision you had made to leave San Francisco and move to Maine. I've been wanting to do that for the longest time and yet, have not done it. I started reading at the beginning of your blog to take in your experience of moving there to see if it bared any resemblance to how I have pictured it would be if my husband and I had moved to Maine. Mind you, I am aware we are different people, lol. However, after reading this post I thought "Yes! That is the kind of life I am looking for." So I look forward to reading the rest of your blog and experiencing, if I may, life in Maine via Clara's Window until such time as we move there ourselves. Or move somewhere like there out here on the West Coast. One never knows.... :) OH, and YES I can hardly wait to get your book!! :)