I am the author of Grounded and the editrix of the What Would Madame Defarge Knit? series of knit (and crochet) pattern books where the patterns are based on characters from classic literature.
You can find out more about my young adult novel Grounded: The Seven, book 1 including sock patterns based on the characters in Grounded here and at the book’s official website.
Cooperative Press (the home of my Defargy Books) has released the latest Knit Edge magazine, curated by Shannon Okey and compiled and edited by the incomparable Elizabeth Green Musselman.
I’ll be chatting this up more on the next CraftLit, but OH MY GOODNESS is there a lot of really nifty niftiness in this next issue!
Allow me to preempt a bit:
If you haven’t taken a gander, please do. For one thing you’ll get quality information and patterns that you won’t see elsewhere. For another thing you can walk around and be proud of yoruself because you’re supporting indie designers and publishers (who found ways to print in the USA which no one else seems to do…). I’ll even let you be a little smug and pretentious about it because, seriously, how often do knitters get to do that, I ask you?
So yes, quality writing, information, patterns, OH and a podcast article by Yours Truly (which is fine and all, but not as cool as the Guernsey article/pattern, IMHO).
Enjoy!
My younger son has found himself enamored of Shakespeare (Midsummer is a fave, followed closely by Branaugh’s Henry V). A high point of his ninth birthday was meeting Ehren Ziegler of ChopBard podcast during the Birthday Weekend Trip To NYC Blowout.
But last week he woke up, looked out the window at the fresh (surprise!) snow and said, “It makes me feel all Shakespeare-y.”
Well what else is a former English teacher to do?
I showed him the format for a Shakespearean sonnet, demonstrated iambic pentameter for him with a few lines from plays he knew, then let him at it.
The result is this:
Snow to Spring
Silent, the white specks fall upon our earth.
The trees are covered with their clumps of snow.
As the world wakes unto its frozen birth,
It is a joyful scene, but nothing grows.
The snow melts through the wet and soggy ground.
The joy disperses as snow goes away.
But yet, a tiny memory is found
Which flies around the skies and saves the day.
As plants pop up from wet and saddened dirt,
They bloom and blossom ’til they shine like sun.
And tho’ the journey comes with pain and hurt,
With Spring we find the battle lost and won.
I say this: from the snow that came today
It brings a sorrow price that we must pay.
He only asked for help on two lines (bonus points if you can guess which two).
Disclaimers first:
All of that will likely color my review.
Forgive me.
* * *
Spoilers are to be expected. I’m writing this under the assumption that you know either (a) the show, (b) the plot, (c) the music, or (d) all of the above. Skip this if you aren’t in those categories as I’ll probably blow something for you.
* * *
I’ve seen some reviews absolutely trashing the film. They were written by folks who didn’t like the theater show. Why in the world you’d have someone review the film who hated the show is beyond me. Ignore the haters. It’s just silly writing tricks.
* * *
So. I loved the show in 1987. I thought the theater tricks—the turntable, the bridge, the clever use of lighting—made the show rise above just-another-musical. I also love the music. I like the themes. I like the passion. It probably helped that I was 20 with all that implies.
Now, in my 40s I appreciate Hugo’s text. His descriptions—which are carried over into the show and film admirably—are lovely and generous and genius. This is particularly true when dealing with difficult characters like Javert.
But enough evasion, here’s what I think:
If you never saw the theater show but you like musicals you will very likely love this film.
Final thought: if you think you want to see it, do.
If you hate musicals, stay away (it’s really an opera).
If you loved the stage show, enjoy the long shots, but keep the London Cast Album close to your heart.
(p.s., Thing 2 adds—the movie was amazing, awesome, and so, so emotional! And yes, I took him out to the bathroom during the “Lovely Ladies” scene.)
I haven’t knit all of the patterns in my first book.
I meant to.
I wanted to.
I’d planned to.
But… well… that’s a lot of patterns. I have knit a few (and am happy to report that I continue to be overwhelmed and hugely proud of the book, it’s essays, and its patterns) but I have to fess up and say that Jane’s Ubiquitous Shawl scared the bejujus out of me.
I don’t know why.
I designed and knit two of the Defarge Shawls (and for Heaven’s sake, it’s a monster), but somehow a pattern I designed seemed less unnerving to me.
Not only have I spent a couple of years seeing pictures of Jane, but I’ve seen the original in person.
It’s gorgeous.
Truly.
GORgeous. The kind of thing that when you pull it out of the box in front of a bunch of knitters in a studio full of knitted items people gasp.
That good.
Personally, I think this has to do with the meaning behind the design as much as the design itself. Erica Hernandez, the designer, went to town on her essay and research as much as she did on her design. She pulled every quote she could find from the book, documenting the fact that whenever something serious or important happened to Jane she was grabbing, touching, or wrapping herself in her shawl.
I don’t want to spoil the joy and surprise you get from reading Erica’s essay in the book, but each section has deeper meaning. Starting with the central diamond pattern (which is what I’m working my way through now–anticipating I’ll run out of time in later weeks during our Knit-aLong).
Right now I’m about halfway through the first chart, but don’t let that stop you from joining in. The pattern starts in the middle and builds out to the edges. This means it’s a fast knit to start with. We’ve also planned the KAL to be six weeks long. We know it’s a busy time for knitters—it is for us too—but we wanted to be sure you could listen to Jane Eyre while knitting and that meant we had to start last Friday.
I’ll post progress here from time-to-time but feel free to plunge into the fun whenever the spirit moves you. Jane would always be happy to have you show up whenever—and so would we.
Well, I’m not releasing a new podcast—though I’m prepping Jane Eyre RIGHT NOW—so instead I’m releassing a new pattern!
My husband recently sent me links to the three videos I’ve loaded below. He said “for the boys” in his email but, seriously, how could I not attack these? I did a quick “knitted flexagon” web search and found that no one had yet made a pattern for this (though you can find oh-so-cool pillows and kaleidocycles video and pattern) so I made my own!
October 21st is the birthday of the instigator behind the craze (Martin Gardner) so knit up a passel (while listening to Flatland) and spread the word of his genius (and the genius of a number of other quite-bright kids).
© facelikefizz
These can be knit with any yarn, at any gauge, with any needles (that fit your yarn). As long as you have a neutral and three other colors, you’re golden. Photo-instructions for sewing and folding and provided.
Buy now for $4.00 via
Ravelry | Craftsy | Crafting-a-Life Shoppe
Enjoy and please share your pictures and modifications. I cannot wait to see what you do with this!
Hexaflexagon video 1
Hexaflexagon video 2
Hexaaglexagon (tongue in cheeck) safety guide
Well, we’ve turned the corner on the decade marking September 11, 2001. Eleven years out, now, but who’s counting?
Over the years I’ve written many different 9/11 posts starting with our experience long before there were blogs. I also wrote about it irregularly here, on or around 9/11 anniversaries.
Fellow bloggers have posted timelines and pictures (I love the Towers of Light).
* * *
I’m in such a different place now than I was back then. I have two boys now, and the one who was a year old during The Event is now 12 and in middle school. He knows where I was and what happened. He’s starting to get interested in politics and the world. My younger boy sort of knows what happened, mostly from the book, The Man Who Walked Between The Towers
I suppose the best thing that can be said about hitting eleven years out is that this election cycle is mercifully free of Nine-Eleven-as-wedge-issue ads. It’s a mercy and one I’m grateful for. Nothing sickened me more over the years than watching those ads, that kind of grandstanding.
No, this year—aside from Thing 2’s meltdown over hidden math homework that I caught before we walked out the door—was a quiet, cool, calm morning (not terribly unlike eleven years ago). So calm that, had I not had to write a check for my kid’s school and thus had to write the date, I wouldn’t have noticed. One of the benefits of working from home rather than teaching in a classroom—I don’t have to write the date on the board anymore.
(see upper right corner—that’s my chalkboard, picture taken on my first visit back, 10/24/01)
This year there are no bells tolling and no reading of names playing in the background as I type. Nowadays “bells tolling” makes me think of Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell: A Novel
But it did.
And 9/11 brings it home, too.
I was only 34 when It happened. Depending on where you are on the cosmic timeline that’s either horrifyingly old or shockingly young to be responsible for running with a bunch of students away from a terrorist attack. In my current eyes, it’s scary young. I know so much more now than I did then. I have much better perspective on life (not just on running from falling buildings). But I suppose that’s the way, isn’t it? I know there’s the old joke, “youth is wasted on the young,” and now I get it. (And I know some of you who are older than I are laughing at me for writing that. Enjoy.)
But it’s the truth.
All the things I might not ever be able to do—now that I’m starting what is likely to be the second half of my life—have been popping into my brain. Constantly. I can see that the world will go on after I’m gone, which is great, but if anything has defined me it’s my curiosity. It’s that I want to know. Pretty much everything. I love seeing connections. I love making connections. I love learning. I told Erica last night that right now, as I make final preparations to teach for the Hand Knitters Guild of North Central Texas and for the Dallas Handknitters Guild at the Knitting Fairy this weekend, I am currently in Shark Mode—if I stop moving I’ll die. I have so much to do, so much neat stuff to put together, so many new teaching ideas to try—and I don’t want to die.
I know, I know; no one does.
But for me, this doesn’t translate into some Fetish-of-Youth complete with Botox and 17 age-eliminating pills every morning. I’m not planning on sucking the health care industry dry trying to prolong my life long after Life has told me It Has Done With Me. I just want to make sure that I use the time I have left to learn as much as I can and to pass that on to other curious people. Thus the podcast (and the other one), and the books, and the patterns, and the (someday-please-God) novel (currently heading back to agents). Yeah, it’s a sad little shot at immortality, but it’s what I have. On a good day I feel pretty solid about it all, too.
So on days like today, as I walk back from my son’s bus stop and put letters in the mailbox and sip a coffee, I wonder what is it that drives me to do all of these things. Would I be like this if some guys hadn’t tried to drop a building on me eleven years ago? Does getting out when so many others died make me that much more intent on using my time to the fullest? Would I otherwise have been content to measure out my days by counting the numbers of students I saw filing through my classroom? Would I have ever podcasted or written or designed?
I don’t know.
What I do know is this: time will get me in the end, and if I was lucky enough to make it out of many earthquakes in SoCal, a car accident in high school, the Rodney King riots, and 9/11, then I sure as hell won’t be taking what time I have for granted. It’s a gift. Every day is a gift. Even the lousy days are better than no days at all. To me, the worst thing would be to reach the end and see behind me a wasteland of lost opportunities. Maybe I’m trying to live my life as a memorial, not just to those who fell, but for those who lived. Maybe the crazy things I push myself to do are really a desperate attempt to feel better about making it out when others didn’t.
Maybe.
Or maybe it’s my crazy DNA that pushed my ancestors from England and Germany to The New World, then kept pushing us west to California (which, as my husband likes to say, proves we’re nuts. Who would look at the Rockies from their covered wagon and say, “hmm. Eh. Not so big. Let’s keep going!”). Now that there’s no more land to push through am I just pushing through time?
Dunno.
But I’d hate to get to the other side of the Veil and be met with nothing but visions of what I could have done, smiles I could have smiled, kindnesses I could have offered, kids who could have been hugged. I’m finding more and better ways to balance kids, family, and my work. I’m still learning. I’m still living. And I’m still hoping that when I get to the other side, what I see behind me is a feel-good comedy rather than a Bergman opus.*
I’d rather look back on a life of fullness after 9/11 than a life like the emptiness I felt in 2001.
*not that there’s anything wrong with Bergman…
I could run out on the street and grab a stranger and give them a big ol’ hug, I’m so happy happy happy.
I just finished the Super Secret Shrug thing for Defarge-3 (Defarge Does Shakespeare, for those keeping score at home)! Yes, Defarge 2 has yet to come out (though it’s in pre-orders) but we’re already hard at work on the next book in the series. We’re also still accepting submissions for Defarge Does Chaucer and Defarge Does Sherlock, iffin yer interested.
So this shrug. It all started with Taming of the Shrew. If you’ve been lucky enough to find the DVD of Shakespeare Re-told then you might have see their Taming of the Shrew. Masterful. Just lovely. The actress who you may only know as Moaning Myrtle and an occasional face in a costume drama is Kate and she is transcendent as the shrew. If you’re a fan of Warehouse 13 then you’ll recognize Bianca as HG. Marvelous. (And I’m not even going to get into the genius James McEvoy (yummy) as Macbeth-as-Gordon-Ramsay. Yikes!)
Anyhow. The shrug.
Bianca has this marvelous shrug. Diaphanous lace. Just stunning. When the DVDs first came out there was some chatter on the ‘net about who designed or where it came from or whether there was a pattern… then nothing. Radio silence. Zombieland.
Well, darn it, I wanted that shrug.
So I made my own.
It’s different, as I didn’t even try to match the lace pattern. And it’s my own construction (though, seriously, how many ways can you make a shrug?!). And it’s with Dragonfly Fibers’ stunning Ruby Ruby in Super Djinni instead of green mohair lace—but it all started with a dream.
And when I thought about telling you about this and how happy I was with how it came out, I also thought, “you know, I’ve actually written a bunch of patterns now, and most of them just kind of happened. Almost accidentally. So I’m going to launch a grand re-opening of my pattern shop and give you special dealies as I go. I hope that will be fun and lighten the load a bit as we head into Autumnal knitting. We hear it’s going to be snowmageddon here again this winter, so I’m stocking up on wool and patterns now.
Look for the first installment of my first pattern later this week!
Actually, not so much God, but a guy who thought he was.
In reality, he was Jordan Baker.
He cut across three aisles of parking lot with nary a glance to the side and were it not for my brakes, he would now be paying for my funeral.
I had a rare opportunity–rare for me when it comes to people like him–where I said, “you know, we were THAT close when you cut across without looking”.
He smiled and said, “good thing you have good breaks, then,” and sauntered off.
All hail Jordan Baker, brought to life here in Virginia.
Where’s my passport?
As I sit here–knitting desperately to try to finish by the closing ceremonies–I’m next to the heavy, bitchy, chain smoking woman who actually just said on the phone, “because, honey, money talks and bullshit walks so put me on the pre-announcement list and shut the f*** up.”
I want to switch countries.
There have to be other, better, places with knitters where we could live and find work, right?
SQUEEEEEE!
Right before I left on vacation I had a FABULOUS phone call/CraftLit interview* with Sally Holt (she of the genius KnitCompanion ® app) and Lucy Neatby (she of knitting genius)—and then I had to shut up about it.
It almost killed me.
But now the secret is out and I can share this joyous news with you! I’m giddy with excitement and I’m here to tell you that after you take a look at the Lucy Neatby—Collection One app, you will be giddy, too.
This ground-breaking app for iPad, iPhone, and iPod Touch combines a collection of Lucy’s patterns together with her wonderful Learn with Lucy video series. All packaged in the patent pending KnitCompanion ® platform to provide highly interactive knitting instructions. The techniques covered in the videos are linked directly to the steps of the pattern that need the techniques so you can knit with confidence because Lucy is by your side. All patterns are setup with easy-to-select options for sizes, motifs, and other options. We think of it as an electronic pattern book on steroids!
And the even better news?
I have a free version of the app to give away!
That’s right!
If you to CraftLit or Just the Books during the month of August 2012 you will be put into a drawing for your very own Lucy Neatby—Collection One app!
You could make a one-time donation (with the button above) or you may prefer to sign up as a Subscriber-Supporter (and receive all sorts of ongoing audio goodies from the folks who work on CraftLit). Either way—donate once or as a subscriber—you’ll be put into the drawing. If you win, but don’t have an Apple device, you can gift the app to a friend—then make them hand over said device on-demand!
And even if you don’t donate, please leave a comment here. Lucy and Sally will see it and I’m sure they’ll be excited to see what you think about their new and awesome app!
*The interview will go live on Episode 264, August 10, 2012.
| For interested Book-Only lovers, I recommend subscribing to the Just-the-Books option. There you won’t be bothered by knitting and crochet pattern freebies, you will just get the marvelous audio bits. | If you like to knit or crochet, consider subscribing to the CraftLit feed and you’ll get even MORE exclusive goodies for free and before everyone else gets ’em. (Current freebies include Cheddar, Wensleydale, and Holly Golightly!) |
| Important—please click the “RETURN” link to complete your subscription process and sign up for your extra fun bits! |
Important—please click the “RETURN” link to complete your subscription process and sign up for your extra fun bits! |
…Chaucer!
I mean—ah—let me start over.
ahem
::Orson Welles-like voice:: Who isn’t afraid of Chaucer?
Okay, Chaucer scholars probably aren’t and… ummmm… no one else.
Right?
Because it seems so old.
And hard.
And dry.
And boring.
And yet…NOT!
I’ve been doing a little experiment over at CraftLit and I’m pretty excited about how it’s panning out. Other people seem to be pretty happy about it too, so I thought I’d share the skinny on it over here.
Thus
***FOR THE LATEST INFORMATION on the evolving subscription options, please visit this page at CraftLit. It’s been through a few versions since this page was posted.***
CraftLit and Just the Books (as you may know) are free podcasts where I take you through the old books that are supposed to be dry and boring and I—as I like to say—teach to the joke. I’m all about knowing the good bits—the parts people sub-reference at parties and make other people feel small with. I hate that. I want everyone to get the jokes. The good bits are what it’s all about. That and, you know… understanding the stories in the first place.*
So.
CraftLit has crafty-chat, then the book bits. Just the Books has occasional newsy bookish bits, then the books.
Yes, I know. I’m getting to Chaucer.
Recently I started a premium subscription deal where, for $5 a month, you can keep getting CraftLit and JtB for free AND get freebies on the side. Little exclusive dealies that you might like.
Things like Chaucer! And Wuthering Heights! And audiobook mp3s for the new(ish) mystery Cool for Cats—which you actually cannot get anywhere else!
Right now, C4C and Wuthering Heights** are are running concurrently with new audio uploaded regularly—Chaucer’s on hold for a bit while our reader convalesces. As we finish one book, I’ll come up with another.
There are still a few I’ve not touched.
and click the little red banner in the upper right corner.
And if you don’t want to subscribe, don’t worry. For one thing, this deal isn’t going anywhere. You’ll be able to subscribe and get this audio whenever you like. And even if you never subscribe, when the books are completed we’ll be offering the audiobook versions for sale as downloads you can purchase all at once (without having to wait for the serial-like, regular updates). Subscribers will have free access to the all-in-one-audiobook compilations, too, at that point.
So there you have it. Lots of options.
Lots of audio.
Lots of good, clean, fun.
Well… unless you listen to Chaucer. Then I can’t guarantee the “clean” part.
*but not like a scholar. I’m not. I’m a former high school English teacher who likes good stories. And jokes. And good jokes.
**This is the version recorded by Ruth Golding of Flatland/Librivox fame. She’s marvelous!
That’s all.
MamaO is Heather Ordover, author, designer, mother and knitter... not necessarily in that order. You can get posts from this blog sent directly to your inbox by signing up below, Follow her on Twitter and Like her on Facebook if you're feeling friendly-like.
Vogue Knitting Winter 2013/2014
Hugely gratifying beyond my capacity for speech is having Vogue Knitting Winter 2013/14 give praise to my new book, Grounded. Read more...
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