Hello! It's been too, too long.
I've straight-up switched careers since I last posted, which may explain the long silence. About a year ago, I started writing full-time, after a decade spent working in the yarn industry. Writing was always a throughline, whether I was composing a blog post, naming a new line or palette or translating a design idea into a workable pattern. I abandoned graduate school to delve into the woolly realm, and never really stopped to examine my writing skills or how I might consciously improve them.
Don't get me wrong, I'm obsessive about language. That's a constant, and it took a copywriting job to help me realize that what I saw as a sharp but small piece of my arsenal was something that actually had standalone value. Debating word choice with a team of like-minded obsessives gave me the same feeling I had extolling the merits of wool in a yarn store or arguing identity performance with my fellow master's candidates ten years ago.
This is all to say, I'm really happy to be writing, professionally, full-time. Copywriting feels like a wonderful fit but I have even bigger schemes, and I'm attacking them the way I always have my knitting. My advice to beginners is always to select projects slightly beyond their skills set, so they'll be forced to rise to the occasion. I'm doing just that, taking a 5-week class on UX writing that is mildly terrifying, but mostly thrilling.
In the spirit of NaNoWriMo, I aim to read a writing-related book each week, starting with It Was the Best of Sentences, It Was the Worst of Sentences by June Casagrande. I'm devoting the first half of the month to mechanics and the second half to a daydream genre of mine, television writing (ahem, just in time for the oh-so-verbose Gilmore Girls revival...) My friend and fellow writer Flossie let me know that my habit of hoarding books but never actually reading them has a Japanese name, tsundoku. Well, shame is a great motivator, and being virtually surrounded by furiously productive fiction writers is a bonus.