Writing A Book

 

Magic in the Water; wet finishing handwovens

As a kid, I loved words, stories.  I read voraciously and dreamt one day of writing, too.

But I soon realized that I didn't have stories to tell, as such.  It wasn't until I became a weaver that I realized that my stories were all weaving related.

Over the years I had done 'big' projects so when it came time to write my 'thesis' (or monograph as they called it) for the Guild of Canadian Weavers master weaver certificate, I knew what I wanted to do and generally how to go about doing it.

It was a work of years.  Literally.  Because I made the decision to weave samples.  Not just tiny postage stamp sized samples but samples large enough you could feel the drape/handle of the cloth and get a feel for how it would feel as an actual cloth. Five binders stuffed full of samples.

And once that was done, people started asking where they could get the 'book' and then urged me to write a 'proper' book.

That 'book' grew and grew.  I spent a lot of time (and I mean a *lot*) crunching the numbers.  How much would it cost to produce it?  How many samples?  How much would it cost to buy the yarn to produce the samples for that many copies?  The logistics were, shall we say, daunting?  (Any idea of how much space 1000 two inch ring binders take up?  A small bedroom.)

Never mind much of this happened before I ever started writing.  Having completed the thesis/monograph, I had a pretty good idea of what I wanted to include so I settled on 1000 copies and talked to a local printer who printed a fair number of local history books for local authors.

It was staggering.  Quite literally staggering.  And I was going to have to pay ALL the costs up front, on my own.  No hefty (ha!) advance to help finance it.  Because I knew that no traditional publisher would touch my 'vanity' project with all those tipped in samples.

One of the benefits of my going my own way, using local talent, financing it myself, doing ALL the promotion and marketing myself, is that this (and my subsequent) books were never 'stolen' by LLM to 'train' their AI. 

At the time I just stubbornly put one foot in front of the other, doing what I needed to do, financed the thing on my credit card and took out a hefty loan.  

The book sold fairly well, considering I asked a reasonable price, given all the samples.  I found some unexpected support within the weaving community.  And a fairly large number of people who wanted the book for 'free' because I was 'asking too much for it'.  

On the other hand, some people refer to it as a 'classic' in the craft.  Yes, it is still available, but no samples.  While dealing with chemo (and the fatigue that caused) I took close up photos of all the samples, before and after, and produced a 'digital' version of the book.  Then, when I decided to write a 2nd book, a friend oversaw the uploading of that .pdf to Blurb.com to test the site.

The site allowed the possibility of a print 'magazine' format as well as a .pdf and amazingly, there are still a few people who buy it.

And now, 22+ years later I still offer it for sale.  Just me, not a traditional publishing house.  And now we have to deal with LLM stealing our work and making money off it.  So now me is grateful that previous me was so stubbornly set on producing a book with samples, in the first place, then continuing to publish my books myself.

This year the US president decided to 'break' Canada economically so it would make it easier to 'annex' us.  I was concerned about that until I realized that the company that hosts my books is in US and the books are printed in the north east (I forget which state) so US weavers can still buy my books without paying Trump's Tariffs.  (The last book is only available digitally via my ko-fi shop but I knew very few people would be interested - however, again it is tariff free because it is a digital download.)

There are still a few copies of The Intentional Weaver at Sweet Georgia Yarns, signed ones, let me add.  Whether or not they will order more, I have no idea.  This tariff stuff is...making decisions difficult.  But you *can* still get both print and digital versions of Magic, Intentional Weaver and Stories from the Matrix at Blurb.  Canadians might want to buy the digital versions to avoid whatever shenanigans with tariffs a certain someone serves up.

Spring Has Sprung

 

Spring seems to have arrived.  We had a small 'flock' of American robins in our back yard this morning.

The woodpecker arrived last week, claiming his territory by rattling away at the metal vents in the roof.

With climate change advancing relentlessly, it is hard to know what the future holds.  We're old, we've been around a lot longer than younger generations, and we know what the seasons used to hold.  Someone in their 20s has no real idea of what was considered 'normal' - and now is not.  To them, what is happening has been happening for all of their lives and they have nothing in their experience to compare the 'now' to what used to be 'normal'.  As in, before climate change began to accelerate.

We continue to recycle, reuse, reduce.  Our wants are simple.  We have travelled (although not nearly as much as we had hoped) and we have experienced many things in our lives.

This morning a fellow weaver/teacher posted about the 'adventures' she had in her life, saying she should write a book.  I hope she does.

If anyone wants to know more about my life as a professional weaver/teacher/author, my book is still available as a pdf via my ko-fi shop.

Things are changing, rather rapidly, and will continue to do so.  What the future holds we cannot know.  

Decisions are being made that will forever impact our lives and most of us feel like we have no input into what those decisions will look like.  Billionaires are taking over more and more and making decisions that impact those of us who are not wealthy, investing gigantic amounts of money to take over things like writing and art.  Once again people who create things are being told that a) anyone can do it, b) your creativity, skill and talent is worthless because c) a machine can do it.  So they spend billions of dollars and suck up the equivalent of a small countries energy to feed AI machines while explaining that humans who do the same, but better, don't deserve to earn money.

Yes, I know AI is a 'tool'.  But as someone posted on Facebook the other day, I don't want AI to create art so I can do the dishes.  I want AI to do the dishes so that I can create art.

Writing is a skill.  Some people are a lot better at it than others.  Sometimes writers have spent years and years honing their skill in order to be able to tell a story well, or write a knitting pattern that actually makes sense, not gobbledygook.  

In a way, I'm glad I was a weaver/writer/teacher before AI came along to try to usurp my skill.  If nothing else, perhaps, just perhaps, my books will hang around long enough for people to learn how to weave from a human, not a machine who doesn't know how to weave.  Or all the 'it depends' conditions that affect how a weaver makes choices in order to create 'good' cloth.

I did not set out to write a book for the ages.  But maybe, just maybe, my books will outlive me and be useful long after I am gone.

Time will tell.

Lurching

 

Someone posted a meme on Facebook about 'baby steps' being tentative when they are anything but.  The poster equated a baby learning how to walk as a 'lurch into the unknown'.

And I thought about my life and how many times I 'lurched' into the unknown.

I think it began with reading.  I was reading by age 4.  Loved to read.  Couldn't get enough of reading.  And each book showed me a new world.  A new life.  A new way of looking at my world - and beyond.

At age 12 I'd read pretty much everything in the children's section of the public library and tentatively asked if I could take books from the 'adult' section.  

"Why?" the librarian asked.  I explained I'd read everything in the children's section.  I suppose I looked so woebegone she took pity on me.  As I entered the stacks, I didn't know where to start.  Therefore it seemed appropriate to begin with the authors with A as the first letter of their surname.  And quickly discovered Isaac Asimov.  After that I became a huge fan of science fiction, and eventually fantasy.

My next big lurch I suppose was making plans to visit Sweden in 1969 in order to meet my pen friend.  I scrimped and saved every penny for almost a year, then boarded the train (to Montreal) and then a freighter that took a small number of passengers to sail to Oslo, Norway.  In May.  Across the Atlantic.

We stopped and jigged for cod off the coast of Newfoundland (I caught 3 - what can say, cod are pretty stupid), saw grey(?) whales on their migration north, managed the rough seas of a storm, and sailed up the fjord to disembark.

From there many adventures were experienced.

And then I finally paid attention to all the messages coming from...who knows where...to consider weaving.  

That was, most likely, the biggest, bravest (or stupidest, depending on your viewpoint) lurch I have made in my life.

Now I lurch, but only physically.  Dealing with a body rode hard, put away wet, far too many times.  The times I wove myself into exhaustion trying to meet deadlines.  The multitude of dark o'clock fights.  Battling food allergy reactions, pretending to be well, hiding my ailing body.  

There were many times I felt I'd let my students down and felt guilty.  All I could do was my best, and I always did that.  My best.

Recently a friend observed that I do more on a 'bad' day than most people do on a good one.  Well, maybe a few years ago that might be true.  Now?  Not so much.

But I always felt like I was...not enough.  My house is always a mess.  I haven't had the energy to actually clean it for, like, ever.  I turn a blind eye to the dust and clutter, and save whatever energy I have for weaving.

When my brother died I had to figure out why I was still here, and he wasn't.  That was the year that so many things finally made sense.  I'd been, almost literally, working myself into the grave.  It was the year that both Doug and I discovered our 'hidden' cardiac issues, and timely intervention was provided.  And here we are.  Older.  Maybe wiser (although that might be moot).

It's been a very long 16 years since Don died.  Honestly, it was, in many ways, a downward spiral, one I documented in my memoir, recently published, available here if anyone is interested.

And now I try to navigate a body that demands to rest.  To be 'coddled'.  Weaving is physical - at least the way I do it.  I have to ration my time at the loom so that my body doesn't go into complete shut down.

After months of searching for an answer, a treatment, something to let me continue to weave, it seems I may have finally found a treatment that will provide some level of, if not healing, coping.  

In the meantime, I have found a little more energy to do things I promised I would do - like get one of the guild's donation looms operating again.  I discovered, much to my chagrin, that I can no longer wind a 9 meter long, 15" wide, 20 epi warp in one session.  Halfway through I had to stop and rest.  Today I feel able to finish it, so I'm going to do that.  And then tomorrow, a guild member will help me beam it.  If I feel able, I will also thread it.  I was hoping to have it ready to weave on in time for the guild business meeting next week, but I may not make that goal.

In the meantime, I did manage to weave half a tea towel yesterday after fixing the threading error, and editing the treadling to better suit what I want to have happen.

Today the sun is shining and the temps are rising.  It would seem spring is set to arrive 'early' (for us).

Time to lurch into the studio and get myself in gear.

Exchange Rates

 

So, yesterday I cashed a US $ cheque (payment for a recent Zoom presentation).  The teller informed me that the exchange rate was such that I was going to get a lot more Canadian money than the number written on the cheque.  I told her I was grateful I wasn't buying stuff from the US right now.  

Which reminded me - prices in my ko-fi shop are listed in Canadian dollars.  Which means, if you are in the US, the prices you pay are going to reflect a substantial exchange rate discount.

To make my life easier, the posted price includes a shipping amount.  If someone buys just one towel, that amount covers about half of the cost of shipping, which has more than doubled in the last few years.  If someone purchases two towels, that *nearly* covers the cost of shipping to the US, using the cheapest option available to me.  

In this day and age of 'free shipping', please understand that there is no such thing.  When I go to the post office, I do not get to ship parcels for 'free'.  I still have to pay the postage.  And for the envelope/box, the shipping tape, the labels.  I still have to drive to the post office and stand on line.  

'Free' shipping just means that makers, like me, frequently wind up subsidizing the cost of shipping.  So, when you look at the price a craftsperson/artist is charging, please be aware that part of that price is shipping.  The only thing 'free shipping' means is that we don't add on more money at the end of the purchase.  The price you see is what you pay.  And people like me sort out where the shipping portion goes, and hope there is some 'profit' to help pay for the materials, the power to keep the studio lights and laptop on, the heat in the winter and the a/c in the summer.  And the utilities (wet finishing all those textiles takes water and electricity, not to mention wear and tear on the washing machine and dryer, plus the press.) 

And then there are the care labels, the plastic stems to attach them (which I've lately not been doing for mail orders.)

If anyone is interested in the sorts of considerations that go into being a professional weaver, my memoir A Thread Runs Through It is also available via my ko-fi shop.  And if you are contemplating a career in the arts, you might find some of the lessons I learned of interest.

My other books are available here.  If you are in the US, blurb conveniently does the exchange rate for you and shows you the US $ price.  If you are in a different country, click on your flag (in the upper right hand corner on my desktop) to get your currency.

Experiment Time

 

Well, it's done.  I'm still not exactly tech savvy, so I hope I've done it correctly.

This is the fourth 'book' I've written.  (Well, I've done one other, which may never see light of day.)

It is the most personal, and I share more of my life's journey than ever before.  This book looks at how choosing to be a professional/production weaver has shaped my life.  It chronicles some of the challenges and how I approached them.

So, I've uploaded the file to ko-fi, in part because ko-fi doesn't take a share of the sales price (just Paypal fees, but I have to pay those as well as blurb's fees for my other books).   It is *only* available as a pdf to keep the price as low as possible.

Since I figure there will not be a whole lot of people interested in knowing more about my life, I wanted to keep the selling price low, in part because those most interested are likely also trying to earn an income from making things and probably don't have a very large budget.  So, ko-fi says a cup of "coffee"  is worth $3.  This approximately 200 page 'book' should give you several hours of reading, and a lifetime's worth of my journey plus the lessons I learned along the way.  The final chapter is probably worth $12 (or 4 coffees) all by itself.

If uploading the file to ko-fi doesn't work, I can always email a dropbox link directly to you.

In my bones I suspect this will be the 'last' 'book' I write.  OTOH, I said that after Magic in the Water, and yet, here I am...

Ultimately, this publication is a kind of love song to weaving - and weavers.  Surrounding myself with so many talented (mostly) female (and male) people has given me a gift I had no idea was waiting for me when I made that fateful decision, just about exactly 49 years ago.

While I may regret some of the things that have happened in those 49 years, I do not regret making that decision.  There are things I would, upon hindsight reflection, do differently.  But that core decision?  I have no regrets at all.  My life has been far richer and I've met more talented people than I ever had any right to expect, growing up in a small 'northern' town in central British Columbia.  I have travelled to places I never expected to go, met people I had no right to think I would get to know.  Explored more, learned more than I ever anticipated.

And here's the thing.  The learning continues.  And more people enter my life, even if for a moment, just because I made that decision.  

So, if you go to ko-fi and purchase A Thread Runs Through It and have any problems at all, let me know.  I can email a Dropbox link to you directly if the ko-fi link doesn't work (because I'm not great at the technology!)  But hopefully it really is as simple as ko-fi makes it look!

Happy Valentine's day.  Sending love and light to you all...

Be Prepared to Suck

 

This morning I saw a post by Abby Franquemont who said (I paraphrase), when you are learning something new, or re-learning something you haven't done for a while, be prepared to 'suck'.

I think this is something that we, as a society, have forgotten.  That *skilled* labour takes time and effort to learn.  And while we learn, we are going to produce less than stellar results.

The photo is of the very first thing I ever wove on a floor loom.

It's pretty...rustic...honestly.  

But it did one critical thing for me.  It showed me the potential involved in taking string (and in this case lowly rags) and turning them into something else.  

I've written about the 'birth' of this rug elsewhere, so I won't repeat it here, but I have kept this rug for nearly 50 years.  We don't use it.  It doesn't lay flat, it's a bit of a trip hazard.  But!  It was, and is, the very first thing, the very first step, on my way to where I am now.

And sometimes I need a reminder.  It marks one of the two points of my journey - the very first thing, and the latest thing I have woven.  

It ties the journey together, much like ol whatshizname who took a ball of yarn into the labyrinth in order to find his way back to the start.

When I come across it - and I do, from time to time, it's just in my studio and I come across it now and then - I always pause for a moment.  Sometimes I pick it up and open it.  And I look at it.  All the flaws.  The lumps.  The bumps.

And all of the potential contained in the effort that went into making it.

I still make mistakes.  And I frequently share them here, because that's the thing, isn't it?  We ALL make mistakes.  We wind up with messes.  Disappointing results.  

The thing to remember is that we are not the sum of our mistakes.  We are the sum of what we *learn* from our mistakes.

Making something that disappoints is, well, disappointing.  But we can try again.  And again.  And multiple times, if necessary.

So, be not dismayed at mistakes.  Learn from them.  Make 'better' choices.  Try, try, try again.

We are very close to launching my 'latest' book A Thread Runs Through It.  This book talks a lot about my journey as a professional/production weaver.  But mostly it is about the lessons I learned along that particular journey.

Stay tuned.

Valentine's Day

 

I designed these little hearts late in 2007 and used them in a number of ways.  The cloth shown (still on the loom) was for tea towels; rose cotton warp with a fine rose slub for weft.  

My internist received a pair of these towels (the first time I gifted my textiles to a health care provider) after I had stents installed in my heart May 9, 2008.  I had been so sick without knowing why, and because he had believed me and ordered the MIBI stress test, effectively saved my life.

Since then, I have gone on weaving, teaching, and...writing.

My latest effort is a memoir, and in a way I feel it is a love song to weaving, to the life I have lived.  Especially since 2008, when I nearly left, following close on the heels of my younger brother.

So, my next book will officially launch on Feb. 14, 2024.  This one will not be on the Blurb website, but will be pdf only and sold via my ko-fi shop.

However, this morning I opened my email to discover that Blurb is offering a two day discount of 15% with the code FEBFLASH on Feb. 2 and 3, 2024.

If you are interested in one (or all?) of my books, now would be a really good time to purchase.  

As for ko-fi, I've just caught up on all the finishing pressing and hope to get photos of the newest towels listed fairly soon.  However, there are lots of towels there now.  Just saying...

Learning Curve

 is curvy...

I'm glad I chose this bookmark design to begin with.  It's easy, just two 'stitches' and I'm using 2/20 merc. cotton so the threads are big enough I can see to do it.  :)  

Today I will look for a different bookmark design, something with another stitch in it.  There won't be a lot of time in the 'taster' sessions, but I would like to have each person go away with at least a sampler (to learn the basics) and then maybe a small item.  I have a couple of student 'pillows' I could send them home with and let them finish, then meet with them again to do the finishing part, which can be a bit tricky for a new lace maker.  

I didn't do anything 'fancy' for these, I just wanted to remember how to make lace.

Yes, I undid and redid each bookmark - the first one more times than the second.  So it felt like I was making progress.  Learning how to recognize a mistake, then take it back and fix it, is a very important part of lace making.  As it is with any textile (or other?) craft.

These will get a pressing, then be inserted into a plastic 'sleeve'.  In my deep dive in the studio collecting all of the lace stuff in one place, I actually found the stack of sleeves I bought from my English lace making friend.  When I use these up, I'm not sure where to get more.  Guess I'll have to figure that out when I get there.

In the meantime, I have begun weaving the linen weft towels.  It's looking good, so far, and I'm pleased that I can use up another yarn in my stash.  The linen is a bit fiddly to work with, even after steeping in the humidor for a few days.  But the relative humidity in the house is below 30% so some unruliness is only to be expected.  The end result appears like it will be well worth the extra effort.

Yesterday I was able to read through (most of) the latest iteration of A Thread Runs Through It.  It's looking good.  We are on track for the scheduled launch date, and that pleases me no end.

I still have 'I donwanna' tasks on my task list and I know I need to tackle those - soon.  At least I managed to get a few of them done during my light duty days.

The lace stash still needs to be organized and stored...somewhere.  But in the meantime I will keep picking away at this and see what I can manage.

Impostor Syndrome

 

Got the next bookmark started.  Since I'm working with 'fat' yarns, I had to figure out how to scan the pricking (design), then enlarge it.  Harder than I expected given the computer now converts scans to Google documents, which then needed to be converted to something I could insert into a Word document and enlarge.  

I'm not a patient person, especially when I remember how easy doing this sort of thing used to be, and quite honestly I don't remember how I managed to get it done, therefore have no idea how to do it again.  However, success once implies success can be achieved again, and it made a very clear design to work from, so I'm quite pleased with myself.

OTOH, I had another bump into impostor syndrome this morning.

I remember the very first time I saw myself (in a chat group) referred to as an 'expert'.  It was so shocking to me to be called such that I quite literally cringed.  (I physically 'shrank' into myself, ducking my head, thinking, no, no, I'm not an 'expert' - 'experts' know everything and I certainly do not!)

That is Imposter Syndrome.  

It is the inner voices telling you that you are not 'enough'.  You don't know enough.  You aren't 'good enough'.

It is something I have had to deal with all of my life, and here I am now, in my 70s, and today saw myself referred to as a 'professor' and immediately thought to myself that oh no, I'm not a Professor!!!

Teacher, sure.  Professor?  Um.  Professors have 'qualifications' and I...do not.  At least not anything academe would recognize as such.

OTOH, I did teach college level classes for a number of years as an adjunct teacher.

Impostor Syndrome is something that I have had to deal with for decades.  Entering the field of weaving *because* I could see that one person could never know it ALL, which was actually one of the big attractions for me, no matter how much I learned, I was well aware of how much *more* there was TO learn. 

As I took the master level program from Guild of Canadian Weavers and began to get a better handle on how threads made cloth, I still knew there was SO much more TO learn.  

To discover myself being referred to as an 'expert' was not comfortable.  It felt like I was claiming something I was not.  

Even after I achieved the master level, I still felt very uncomfortable to be described as an 'expert'.  And I still do NOT know it 'all'.  That doesn't mean I don't know anything, because I do.  I know a lot, actually.  (Take that Impostor Syndrome!)

This is one of the topics I have written about for the next book A Thread Runs Through It*.  Because the longer I have been in this field, the more people I know, the more I understand just how many of us wrestle with Impostor Syndrome.

It can be a very lonely struggle.  Impostor Syndrome means that a person feels like a fraud, in some ways.  And to admit that they don't feel like an expert feels like a weakness.  Or a confession.  

I have had to embrace the fact that I do not know 'everything' there is to know about taking thread and turning it into cloth.  To *celebrate* that there is still so much more TO learn.  To never be afraid to make a mistake, and admit that I have.  And then try to 'fix' it and grow/learn from making said mistake.

Our society gets so tied up in 'perfection' without acknowledging the long journey of learning that brings us to 'good', never mind 'perfect'.  Always seeing that 'imperfect' journey as a flaw, when in fact it is the very essence of learning.  Growing.

Writing about my particular journey was cathartic.  And I hope that anyone else also struggling with Impostor Syndrome will manage to wrestle their naysayer back into the dark and keep growing, keep learning.

Thank you, previous student who called me 'professor'.  It means a lot to be held in such a position in your life, in your journey.  And it allowed me, once again, to tell my inner critic to go away.  Not everyone will be interested in my journey as a professional weaver/designer/teacher/author.  But maybe my journey will help them to understand that they are not alone.  And do what they need to achieve their dreams, their goals.

*nearing completion.  Launch date deadline is Feb. 14.  Stay tuned.

How Long Does It Take?

 

chameleon

This is the warp going into the loom at the moment.  It was inspired by 'snake skin' but the warp colour is a combination of two blues (peacock and bleu moyen from Brassard) so I'm calling it 'chameleon'.  The first weft will be navy with a slightly purplish cast, from Borgs (I think - it's been in my stash for a while.  A looooong while.)

Once that yarn is used up, the rest of the warp will be woven with a fine natural linen from Brassard.  I think Brassard still carries it, but I'm trying really hard to use up what I have, and I have 4 tubes of the stuff so probably more than enough to finish this warp, maybe do more on the next.

As part of my 'new' reality, I have been paying a lot more attention to how long it takes me to do the various tasks involved in weaving.  Since I can no longer weave for as long, or as frequently, it has become more important for me to pay attention to how long I do things for and not push myself beyond my ability to do the things I love.

My body has sustained injuries over the years, and while most of those injuries were not caused by weaving, they are not helped by weaving more than I can tolerate.

My new 'normal' is to work in the studio for no longer than 45 minutes, twice a day.  Three times if one of those sessions is 'light' duty (ie pressing, or inspection/repair, etc.)

Since I've just finished beaming the next warp and begun threading, my awareness of the numbers is pretty fresh.

I begin by coming up with a design I think might look good and it generally takes about 30 to 60 minutes to work through the designing of the draft.  More if I'm working out a new-to-me weave structure.  I then put it 'away' for a while, then go back and look at it again.  If I still like it, it may take another 15 or 20 minutes to make sure I'm happy with the transitions from one part of the design to the next, make sure it's 'balanced' if I want it symmetrical, and then generate the treadling, which may take another 20-30 minutes as I tweak the draft to 'fit' a tea towel size.  So, about 2 hours (or more) for each design in the designing phase.

I beam sectionally, making a warp 24" in the width, 24 yards (approximately) long, which will produce about 18 to 20 towels, depending on the repeat length.  Larger motifs may be longer than designs with a shorter repeat.  Rather than cut a motif in half, or worse, thirds, I will either cut back one full repeat and do more repeats for the hem area, or weave the towels a bit longer.  

Once I have the bobbin rack set up, I have been doing 5 warps of the same colour combination so I don't have to keep setting the bobbin rack up each time, which saves me some time. Setting up the tension box and then beaming the warp takes about 90 minutes with a longish break halfway through.  This includes transferring the bouts to the long stick I use to bring all the sections up and over the back beam so I can reach them during threading.

The current towels are only 32 epi (not 36, which  I was using for the mercerized cotton for weft) and it takes about 3 hours to thread the 760 ends (again broken into 45 or so minute sessions with long 'rest' periods between).  Generally those 4 sessions are spread out over 2 days.

Sleying will take maybe an hour, depending on how smoothly things go.  I may find threading errors that need to be fixed.  Sleying tends to be done in one session since the posture/position isn't terribly awkward.  If I feel up to it, I may tie on right away, or I may leave it and come back later.

Tying onto the apron might take 10 minutes, then I need to get the treadling sequence into the laptop and bobbins wound.  Bobbin winding may be done here and there, for example if I'm waiting for the press to heat up so I can press the towels ready for pressing.

Weaving takes about one hour per towel.  On a good day I might be able to weave 900 to 1000 picks in 45 minutes.  So a warp that yields 20 towels will take about 20 hours to weave off.  I will cut off after about 6 or 7 towels, re-tie and then keep going.

Then when the towels are cut off the loom, they get cut apart and serged, then inspected and repaired.   The repairing part can take quite a long time depending on how many things need to be fixed, then a load will go into the washing machine (I might do all 18 or 20 towels at once, or I may do 14) and dryer.

Once they have been run through the washer and dryer (hottest wash water available, cold water rinse, with a double rinse, then into the dryer until damp), they sit overnight to 'steep' and make sure they are evenly damp.  Then press.  Each towel takes about 4 to 5 minutes to press and then hang on the drying rack, then grab the next towel and get it into the press.  They are allowed to dry overnight, then they get hemmed.  I can do 2 towels per hour, so about 15 minutes to trim, pin, and sew by hand. 

Then, at last, the final press which takes about 2 minutes.  Hang to dry (I spritz them with water for their final press) and then the next day they get neatly folded and set onto the shelves where they will live until they get tagged/priced and delivered to the guild for sale.  Since I make my own care labels and affix the appropriate label to the hang tag, then use a stem gun to attach the label to the towel, that also takes time (and money because I have to purchase the custom hang tags and plastic stems, and then the care labels to the tag, then add a price tag when selling locally.)

If I offer them on ko-fi, I need to get photos (as accurate in colour as I can manage - not always an easy task!) then the description written up, the photo added and posted to my ko-fi shop.

So let's add that all up, shall we?

Prep time will get divvied up over the number of towels I make.  Let's say 19 towels as an 'average'.  

Prep time (approximately - it may vary) is about 400 minutes or about 6.66 hours.  Divide that by 19 and prep time per towel is 21 minutes.  That's before I ever pick up the shuttle.

Then about 60 minutes to weave each towel

'Finishing' adds up to around 30 minutes.

Marketing will add more time.

21 + 60 + 30 + 5 = 116 minutes (edited to correct the time)

Approximately.

Materials for a towel are about 5 ounces for 2/16 cotton.  About 1000 yards for warp and about the same for weft for an estimation of 2000 yards per towel.  As per the  Brassard 2023 price list, 8 oz of 2/16 cotton comes to $8.50 (plus taxes, plus shipping).  Yarn for a single towel is therefore about $5.50.  More if I'm using linen for weft, but let's just consider cotton for the moment.

I am currently charging $30 per towel when I sell locally, but $40 per towel, which has a shipping charge included when via ko-fi.  Considering shipping is currently more like $20 per packet, that means I'm actually 'losing' money when I sell on ko-fi.   Unless someone buys two towels, and then the $10 shipping levy for each towel actually covers the actual shipping I pay at the post office.  Doesn't cover the cost of the padded envelopes, the cost of the mailing labels, shipping tape (because the labels scrape off if they aren't stuck down with clear shipping tape.  Nor does it cover the cost of my labour to do the preparation for shipping, nor the cost of gas to drive to the post office, nor my time standing in line etc.

People tell me I'm fast.  I prefer to use the term 'efficient'.  I try to not waste my time because once I've spent the coin of my time I can never get it back again.  So there are times when I will sacrifice yarn at the end of the warp.  I don't like playing 'yarn chicken' so if I'm not sure I can get another towel out of the warp, I may toss several ounces of warp yarn into my yarn recycle bucket.  

If I run into problems, I may cut off, fix the problem, and toss the beginning part away - again into my cloth recycle box to be used for 'rags'.  

Part of the reason all of this is top of mind right now is because of my next book.  A Thread Runs Through it is a memoir - a closer look to what my life looked like as a professional weaver/teacher/author.  

I have had to 'justify' my prices over the years because people ask 'how long did it take to make a towel'.  Normally I don't go into all of that detail above because that isn't really what they are asking.  What they want is for me to justify the price I am asking.  Most of them are not interested in the detailed breakdown I've just done.

My prices also reflect my knowledge and skill.  So while it may 'only' take me about 2 hours to make a towel, that level of production is based on nearly 50 years of honing my skills, learning my craft, and creating unique and above all, functional, textiles.  Nor have I included 'overhead' - all the things that cost money regardless of any production happening.  Electricity to run the loom, press, bobbin winder, the lights.  Maintenance on equipment - just this month $110 to service the serger.  But also any repairs/maintenance the loom requires.  Separate rider for studio insurance (because no insurance company in the world would cover the loss of my studio equipment/yarn/inventory on a 'regular' home insurance policy.) The heat.  Water.  No, I'm no longer in 'business', but after 40 plus years of being a home based business, I'm well aware of the over head costs.

No, I will not give a discount to random strangers.

But I will, at times, gift my work to people I know will appreciate them.  Or I will give textiles to my health care providers.  Because they are, right now, the only thing keeping me functional enough to actually get to the loom.

Why do I share all this?  Because there are still people who are not valuing their work and selling their textiles for far too little.  Perhaps they have never bothered to keep track of their investment in time *and money*.  Or they don't have to worry about finances that way I did.

Some people who *are* trying to earn an income weaving get very stressed about the people 'giving' away their handmade textiles and want to 'do something' about it.

For me, I was never too bothered about other people's prices.  I had enough confidence in my work that I asked what I asked and if others were selling tea towels for less than I was, it wasn't a big deal to me.  A few times my presence in a sale meant that those people selling for less became aware that there WAS a market for higher priced items, and in one instance, by the time I stopped doing a sale everyone else who had been charging much less then me when I first went there, were, in some cases, charging more than me.  And selling.  I suppose they watched my higher priced items sell and they gained the confidence to raise their prices to match - and exceed - mine.  

As for those who didn't raise their prices?  The people who bought the lower priced items were not 'my' customers, so I never worried about them.

Stay tuned for more information on the new book, coming down the pipeline.  And yes, the hours, days, weeks involved in creating a book have a similar investment of time, knowledge, and effort.

The End

 

Flying Free - linen warp, grosgrain ribbon weft, about 2' by 4'

Well, I just hit 'send' on the final file for the new book.

I submit this manuscript to the editor with a great deal of trepidation, not because of what they will say, but if it will be received by the 'public' in the spirit in which it was written.

A Thread Runs Through It will be the most personal book yet, as I examine how being a professional production weaver affected me.  How it changed me.  How it challenged me.  I have also included a lot more personal information than in my previous books, which were, frankly, more textbook than anything else.  Stories from the Matrix included more personal information than the other two, but this one is more memoir than textbook.

Recently I read a comment that said something to the effect that boomers needed to stop giving advice to younger generations because society has changed so radically that any advice I might give about being a professional production weaver would be antiquated.  (That wasn't what the comment said - this was me extrapolating from their example to one that applied to me.)

I had already figured that out, but felt that my growth as a human being through the lens of my career might still prove of some value to a younger person.

Because change one thing, and everything can change.

What changed in my lifetime is the rise of the internet and social media; therefore marketing has changed so radically that my experience is not relevant to someone just starting out now.

But human beings are still human beings, and the lessons I learned about being a human doing weaving for an income might be of interest to youngsters.  

I don't think we have settled on a cover photo yet.  OTOH, I've just sent a large fistful of photos and my editor may decide to take one of those - or ask for me to send something current.  TBD.

My 'light duty' days are nearly over.  I will try weaving tomorrow and see how it goes.  Tuesday I have chiropractor and won't likely feel much like weaving.  I do still have a couple more administrivia tasks to be done, so I will sort through the heap of paper on my desk and hopefully deal with the rest after my appointment.  It would be great to begin digging into the next warp (once the current one is off the loom) with a clean slate on my desk.

Who knows, my 'muse' may begin poking me again.  She seems content - for now.  But who knows.  I never intended to write a second book, never mind a third - or fourth.

Go with the flow, they said.  It will be fun, they said.  Riiiiiight....

Tentative publication date is Feb. 14.  Because this book is a long song to weaving, so to speak.

The Insistent Muse

 

One of my many small publications - when I look back, I'm actually a bit amazed at how many I have produced.

Now that the dust is settling from the latest book launch, I'm entering the next phase - the marketing.

My previous books had long lead ups to launch so by the time they came out there was already a group of people waiting for it.

Stories from the Matrix went much faster and I didn't say too much about it so now I have to work on getting the word out.

In the meantime, the insistent muse is beginning to tap their foot and yes...I'm writing again.

Once again, I have no idea if what I'm writing will be of any interest whatsoever to anyone else.  But my muse keeps insisting I go to the desktop and punch the keyboard.  There will be a battle royale between my muse and my inner critic at some point in the future.  Because this isn't my first ro-day-o and I know how this cycle goes.

I had no intention to begin writing again right away.  Didn't have a kernel of an idea, frankly, but again a confluence of prods from various directions shoved me to the keyboard.

At this point I'm not sure what I have is readable, or if anyone actually wants to read it, given the work it is going to take to edit, edit, edit, then pay a 'real' editor to bring it into publishable state.

Instead of looking at what I've already written, I keep thinking of more things I want to include.  And I keep adding to the file.

Right now the files are 'out of order' which I will have to address very soon.  The content is chronological - sort of - in the way that life keeps spiraling back to the beginning so I can pick up on a lesson I thought I'd learned previously, but now understand on a deeper level, so need to review and retool so that I can build on the previous experiences.

I would worry about that except I've been reading quite a few biographies and the thing I'm noticing is that many of these memoirs (for they are mostly memoirs) do the same thing.  The person learns something about life, lives their life some more, then needs to go back and learn more about their past lessons in order to keep growing.  A lot like weaving, to be honest.

If I were to categorize what I'm doing with this latest effort is that it is about as close to a memoir as I will ever get.  If I choose to proceed with it.

Most of my life I have thought through challenges or issues that happen in my life by writing them down, thinking them through so I can process them as I search for the words to explain - to myself, mostly - what has happened and where the lesson is.

And this latest writing?  Is a lot of that.  But also, the lessons I have been dealing with are not unique to me - they are part of the human condition.  My lessons, my conclusions, may be different from someone else, but perhaps some people might find them helpful as they work through their own pitfalls on their life's path.

Dunno.  Right now I am writing for me.  An acknowledgement of the lessons I have learned in my life.  Which may, or may not, be useful to someone else, but in the meantime, they are useful to me.  And they may never see light of day.  

Time will tell.  Working title is A Thread Runs Through It.  There.  I've said it, right out loud.