Tag Archives: Writing

Almost Done with Year One

11 Apr

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The morning started off like most and as I picked up my phone from its charger before leaving the house for work, I noticed I had new email.  I tapped on the icon and noticed there was an email from UCF School of Graduate Studies.  This was it.  I had spent the previous year preparing for this moment.  Would I be accepted into the Creative Writing MFA Program?  

I opened up the email and saw the words I had kept envisioning in my own mind for some time (thanks to watching “The Secret” over and over again).  The note began, “We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted…”  I had been accepted!  No matter how old you are, getting a letter of acceptance remains a great thrill.  This was in March, 2011.

Now, I have about two weeks remaining in the spring semester, and I can’t believe my first year of graduate study is drawing to a close.  I’ve been reflecting a lot on everything I’ve done since August.  My nervousness at orientation and near melt down in week one when I wondered what I had gotten myself into.  My increasing confidence with each new assignment returned with high marks, realizing that I can, in fact, complete the homework as assigned.  The books that I have read (and more books, and then a few more books).  The annotations and response papers written for each of the books read.  The creative pieces I’ve done.  These are all in the formal context of the academic experience and I have learned an incredible amount in just two semesters.

There have been other experiences, though, related to my program, that would not have occurred had I not joined the program, that have been really great for me.  Early in the fall semester, I was asked to join two other students in starting up a literary reading series for MFA students in the area.  It’s been very successful and has provided a great place for students to share their works in progress and get experience reading in public.  I’ve read my work in public twice at Parcels (the reading series referenced), but also out of one of those readings, was invited to read at another local literary event, “There Will Be Words,” which resulted in having a piece of mine published in a chapbook produced by Burrow Press.  In early March, I went to Chicago to attend the Association of Writers and Writing Programs conference – an incredibly informative and inspiring experience for me as well.

Lastly, but probably most important, is that this year has introduced into my life a completely new community of friends, a community of fellow writers with whom to commiserate and encourage and to exchange constructive critique.  I have learned so much from my fellow students and literary colleagues and that, I believe, is what has made this program so unique and, frankly, so special to me.

There are no accidents, and as this school year approaches its end, I know this is precisely where, at 42, I am supposed to be.

Meeting D.A. Powell

18 Mar

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I recently had the opportunity to travel to Chicago and attend the annual Association of Writers & Writing Programs conference.  Over ten thousand attendees participate in hundreds of workshops and off-site readings and events.  It was quite an affair that lasted for four days and beyond.  Weeks prior to the conference, I was reviewing the online schedule of offerings and discovered Graywolf Press was hosting a reading of a few of its featured authors – and one of them was going to be D.A. Powell.

I encountered Powell’s books of poetry with titles like Cocktails, Tea, and Lunch, and found myself lost not only in the experimental nature of the work (I had never seen poetry like his before), but also in the experiences he infused into his work – much of it about life in the 1980s and 90s and the evolution of the AIDS epidemic.  There is depth to conjure thought, while also pop culture references to warm one’s heart.  Once I read Tea I ordered each of his books and all that have followed.  

The day of the reading came, and I arrived at the ballroom 90 minutes early.  Initially, I was the only person in the ballroom, but I got the aisle seat in the second row.  (The first row was reserved; otherwise, I would’ve sat there.)  I enjoyed the peaceful respite from the chaotic tumult of the conference atmosphere, then attendees began to filter into the ballroom.  My eyes fluttered around the room, constantly on the watch for Mr. Powell.  Sporting jeans, a sweater, and a wool ski-style cap, he walked in and I have to admit this was the first time I have been starstruck in the literary sense.  I’ve not had the opportunity to be such a fan of a particular writer and then see them in person.  But here he was and I was prepared to see him read.

As if the anticipation wasn’t already at an intense level, the publisher who welcomed everyone shared the order in which the authors would read, Powell was fifth to read.  I tried diligently to listen closely to the authors who preceded him, but it was a challenge to stay focused, only anxiously awaiting to hear him read work from his new book, Useless Landscape or A Guide for Boys.  Eventually he took the stage, and as he spoke his personality emerged, his radiant smile, his sharp sense of humor.  I was enraptured, hanging on every word, taking photos with my phone while trying not to miss a phrase in the process.  The time he spent on stage seemed to fly by, but I was grateful to have had the opportunity to see him on stage and hear him read.  Then, the publisher made a closing comment: “The authors you’ve seen here today will all be gathered in the Expo Hall to sign their books.”  I knew what I needed to do next.

I had secretly hoped for this moment, and because I already had his new book (and brought it with me, in the slight chance I had the opportunity for Mr. Powell to sign my book), I knew where I needed to go next.  I wound through the crowds down hallways and staircases to get to the Graywolf Press booth at the expo.  I pulled my book out of my backpack and I lingered, loitered really, stalking the booth waiting for Powell to appear.  He arrived just a few minutes later and an informal queue formed.  I was third in line.  My heart began to beat heavy in my chest.

The people in front of me stepped away and there I was, face to face with D.A. Powell.  This is how I remember that brief conversation:

Me:  Good morning!

DA:  And good morning to you!  [Leans over to read my name on my credentials.]

Me:  [Nervous and flustered, I handed him my copy of his new book.]

DA:  [Opens to signing page] And you are Brian Crimmins?!

Me:  I am!

DA:  [Signs book.  Hands it to me.]

Me:  Thank you so much.  Have a great day!

DA:  [Shakes hands]  You, too.

As I walked away, the first thing that came to my mind was, “I am such a douche bag!  Why the hell didn’t I say anything?”  Negative self-talk flooded my mind as I conjured so many other things I wanted to or should have told Powell in that auspicious meeting!  I tried to put all of that aside and simply enjoy the glow of the moment.  Having had a few weeks to reflect on that moment, I would like to recreate the conversation in the form I would have preferred it to go:

Me:  Good morning!

DA:  Good morning to you!  [Glancing at credentials] You’re Brian Crimmins?

Me:  I am, but more importantly, you are D.A. Powell and although I am not a poet, I have scoured everything you’ve published and seeing how you express yourself, how you tell the stories of your life, images of people who have changed you, I was inspired to pursue my dream of writing and of returning to school to get my M.F.A.  

DA:  I’m glad that happened – and here you are!

Me:  But more importantly, here YOU are, and I really want to thank you for writing what you write, for putting your personal voice into the world, so that others, like myself, can read it all, learn from it, and be incredibly and wholeheartedly inspired.

DA:  Well, Brian [handing me my book with his signature inside], I appreciate that.

There were clearly things I didn’t say in that short meeting, and I’ve also gotten to a place where the fact I said very little has come to mean less and less.  Instead, I simply bask in that moment when I shook Powell’s hand, traded a few kind words, and was, in some notable way, changed.

A Conversation with Marion Roach Smith

1 Feb

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Last summer, before I started my MFA Program at University of Central Florida, I was reading a lot of books about writing memoir.  It was then I stumbled across The Memoir Project: A Thoroughly Non-Standardized Text for Writing & Life by Marion Roach Smith.  The prose was engaging, the personal anecdotes captivating, and I was intrigued by the author’s point of view on things like writing exercises and prompts.  During the fall semester, I made contact with Marion via email and after a few exchanges we found the opportunity to speak last week.  

In 1983, Marion, age 26 at the time and working at The New York Times, wrote the first first-person account of Alzheimer’s disease.  Her mother was 51 and had been diagnosed with the disease, at that time something unfamiliar to most.  The New York Times Magazine let Marion write the story and she ended up on the Today show the next day to talk about her experiences.  ”It was a game changer,” she said, “I hadn’t thought I was writing memoir, but of course I was.”

As we discussed the evolution of memoir as a genre, Marion agreed that it should be considered a genre and within it, “you could write about your great-grandfather to yesterday’s lunch.  You could write personal essays or op-ed pieces for local newspapers.  You could write long-form memoir or about one particular thing in your life.”  Marion also acknowledges the importance of social media and, in particular, blogging.  ”Blogging has had a huge impact – it’s like this hammer we hit the big old memoir with and broke it into pieces.  It makes the genre more flexible.”

In addition to writing four books, Marion also teaches memoir writing workshops.  Years ago, she was on the board of a local arts center where she opined one too many times about the class offering entitled, “Getting in touch with the right side of your brain using your angel feather.”  Finally, they suggested Marion teach the class.  She does not use angel feathers or address the genre in metaphysical terms.  Instead she says, “I believe in the hard chair, lots of caffeine, and you sit there until you get the thing done.  I teach about writing with intent.  I don’t do exercises and prompts and try to get students going to the form they really love or other forms they haven’t yet considered. It started as kind of a dare, but fourteen years later, it’s been really successful and I’m teaching all over the place now.”

When Marion and I traded emails last fall, I was taking a “Teaching Creative Writing” class at school.  I was intrigued by her adamant rejection of writing exercises and prompts so I asked her more about that when we spoke.  ”Writing exercises are the quickest road to hell.  They give you the sense you’re good at this writing thing.  They give a false sense of security that you don’t need. You need to get to the work.”  I was curious, though, how does she then teach people memoir writing without giving them an opportunity to try new techniques.  ”We motivate them by the work of others.  We don’t write in class, we read in class.  We start with the personal essay – it’s the best way to learn how to write.  750 words or fewer and it’s about you.”  Much of her six-week course focuses on students reading their work to each other.  While some continually revise one piece for the entire six weeks, others write a new piece each week.  

The inspiration for The Memoir Project book came from her sister, Margaret Roach, former Editorial Director for Martha Stewart Living Omnimedia.  Margaret stepped away from her corporate job in Manhattan to live peacefully in the country, but found when she sat down to write about her experience in doing so, it was difficult.  ”I’m struggling,” Margaret told Marion, “what do you tell your students?”  Marion sent provocations to her sister through email and Margaret told Marion she should put them into a book.  ”We self-published it as sisters with a different title and cover.  We sold every copy, then called our agent and said, ‘Look what we made!’  She loved the book, took it to auction, and sold it to my favorite publisher.  I love this little book.”

I asked Marion what her greatest advice would be for memoir writers.  ”It would be to take the chances of writing in non-traditional form.  Try making a list.  What did you take when you walked out of a horrible relationship.  Take some chances.  There are  recipes for bad relationships – I’d love to see what yours is.  Don’t just think of memoir as that one big book – take a crack at something smaller, cooler, harder, that will bring you to your knees.”  And, though no surprise, when asked what her counsel would be to those who teach memoir, she replied, “No more writing prompts!  I would like them to try it without them, I really would.  Exercises are just barriers – throw them away.”

Through our email exchange, we also learned that, in addition to having our passion for writing in common, we are also both knitters.  I couldn’t finish our conversation without asking her about her current knitting project.  ”I had this sweater I bought in Paris years ago and I wore it to death.  It’s a psychedelic orange in mohair and silk.  I have set out to copy it in a combination of mohair, linen, and nylon – it’s delicious!”  She was kind enough to ask me about my latest projects and recalled a recent blog post of mine in which I wrote about My Foray into Fair Isle.  ”That’s the beauty of knitting,” she said, “What a joy!”

To order copies of “The Memoir Project,” visit this page on Amazon.com.

To visit Marion’s wonderful website with great tips on writing, visit The Memoir Project.

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How do I do it?

27 Nov

With only two class meetings to attend and two final papers to submit, my first semester in graduate school draws to a close.  Part of me recalls the joy and exuberance I felt in March of this year when I received the email I was accepted.  Then, I recall how incredibly tough I was on myself the first week of the semester, my confidence nearly shattered.  But as I sit here now, reflecting on the semester in its entirety, I know that I am changed because of it all.  I’ve met some really nice people, all on their own respective artistic journeys.  I’ve learned so much, not only from professors, but also from fellow students.  In a short period of time, I’ve learned to look at things differently and my learning has enjoyed immediate application along the way.

People often say to me, “I don’t know how you have a full-time job and take two college classes and still have a life!”  I’ve thought about this question for some time and so I thought I’d put a few thoughts down about what has helped me enjoy this semester so much.

Clarity of Purpose

It sounds obvious, but one thing I have never wavered from is having clarity of purpose.  School is one of my top priorities and by making it so, that has made making decisions about what to do or not do easier.  Have I missed out on a few things?  Yes, of course.  There is only so much time in a day.  But because I’m pursuing my personal passion, my homework consists of reading and writing – two things I love to do.  

Having a very clear vision of what you want to accomplish anchors in your psyche the compass that guides your every action, and that purpose is used as a filter for all that you do.

Time Management

It’s an overused term, I agree.  But a little planning and setting aside specific time to do what needs to get done has been a critical success factor for me.  On certain evenings or on weekends, I know I need to complete certain assignments because if I don’t do them at that moment, they won’t get done on time.  And submitting any assignment late is not an option for me.  

It also involves learning to say no.  This hearkens back to having clarity of purpose – if you are clear about your end result, your ultimate goal, you make decisions about the use of time in a way that supports that goal.

It’s Not Easy

Perhaps I have made the process look easy to those with whom I work or to close friends.  They see me enjoying school, which I absolutely do, but they do not see the hard work that happens when I am alone, facing the blank computer screen to write a creative sketch, or the hours spent researching to find a few quotes on a very specific topic.  And, as I did just yesterday, in one day, writing a 3,200 word 10-page draft of a paper.

What I have learned in all of this is that many of the cliched life lessons we hear are true.  You get out of something what you put into it.  Manage time, don’t let time manage you.  Anything worth doing is worth doing well.  Whatever bumper sticker you subscribe to, what I know for sure is that it makes all the difference when you are doing something you love, when you follow your passion.  It never feels like work.  I don’t find myself saying, “Ugh, I have to go to class again.”  All that I am doing and learning is, in some way, contributing to the pursuit of my art.  And that is, to me, what it’s all about.

Inspiration is in the Details

13 Nov

As a writer, I am constantly in search of inspiration. I am an observer of the world around me and as I have spent more time writing I, too, have found so much in the small details of my life.

If there is any place that has the power to inspire in so many ways, it is New York City. I visit the city three or four times a year and every time I discover something new, acquire a new find, or see something that sparks my imagination.

When it comes to writing, this city offers immeasurable details and a colorful cast of characters on which to reflect. The history is rich and regardless of where I go, I see or hear or smell something that intrigues me.

I am writing this post, in fact, in New York, and already a few things have inspired me.

Walking in Greenwich Village yesterday, a small girl was overheard telling her mother, “Mom, I wish we were in The Hamptons.” Just this one quote made me think about who those people are, and I tried to imagine a life in which, as a child, I was faced with the quandary of strolling In the Village or spending time in The Hamptons.

At a brunch yesterday, a young woman spoke of the system with which she categorizes her friends. “I have my fun friends who were mostly waitresses until they turned 30 and who are always late and really fun to go out with,” she said. “Then I have my smart friends – they’re the ones I meet for dinner and good conversation. We usually meet at 7 and and I’m home by 10:30.” This is a whole other blog post, but introduced an interesting concept to me, something to write in my notebook and to explore at a later date.

What was reinforced in both instances is the importance of carrying a small notebook in my bag and a pen – tools of the writer’s trade – so I could quickly jot down these images, conversations, the details of my life. Writing them down locks them in, gives me something to refer to later, and creates a chronicle of my experience.

What I’ve also found is that when I observe these details I become more aware of the world around me, more focused on the present moment. These sensory details, these observations, are what is happening right here, right now, and gives me a greater appreciation of the moments of my life.

Wherever you may find yourself, whether in a big city or at a provincial gathering, taking time to observe the details of the world around you can be a grounding practice, a way to savor each moment. And if you are a writer, those moments, the details of your life, make up the story you are here to tell.

Taking the Stage

23 Oct

When I began my MFA studies in August of this year, I told myself that I would use this time to really branch out, experiment, do things I’ve never done before.  It is a noble cause in one’s own mind, but as the opportunities emerge, some, I must say, feel commensurate to rappelling in the Grand Canyon, cliff diving in Acapulco.  Such was the case on October 9 when I participated in a new reading series, “Parcels: MFAs in Progress” with five of my fellow students from University of Central Florida.

Preparations

In my professional career, I have done a great deal of public speaking.  From small classrooms of 20 people to large ballrooms of over 1,000 people, as long as I know what I’m talking about, these scenarios have not been problematic.  However, the content was corporate, not part of me and who I am.  But as I worked on the piece I read and the overall presentation I would make, I realized it made me a little, well, crazy.

I read and re-read, out loud, the piece I was going to present.  I rehearsed, trying different tones and inflections to ensure the message I wanted to convey came across perfectly.

Before the reading, I took painstaking care in personal grooming (more so than I already typically do, if that is possible), and I did not take a seat at the venue until after I read (so that my new Banana Republic Monogram shirt would not wrinkle before I stood in front of the crowd).  I know.  Don’t judge.

In some ways, I went into that same obsessive mindset I do just before hosting a dinner party.  I call it, “Going Martha,” and I think, in a small way, that may have been what I did in the days and minutes leading up to my reading.

The Moment

Sade sang the lyrics long ago:  ”It’s never as good as the first time.”  That may be true, but as my first time on stage reading my own creative work, this night was exhilarating.  Did I have dry mouth and want to pass out?  Yes, of course.  But as I stood at the microphone and read my words, I looked out at a field of 50 friendly faces, many my fellow students, faculty, and a few friends and family.  It was a moment in which I knew I just needed to dive in and swim around in what was happening.  That’s what I tried to do.

After Glow

I was the second reader of the evening, so I was able to return to my seat and relax, enjoying the rest of the reading.  I had achieved a milestone and had done something completely new for me.  I was living my vision, driving toward my goals of greater experimentation and presence in the local creative landscape.

During intermission, J. Bradley, host of There Will Be Words, a fantastic monthly reading series, also held at Urban ReThink, approached me and introduced himself.  He said he appreciated my work and would like to invite me to be one of the featured writers at the January 2012 TWBW.  This was a great surprise to me and I was honored by his invitation.  One step forward pushed me in a new direction, the wheel keeps turning, and I will take the stage once again on January 10.

What I Know For Sure

When we push ourselves to venture into unexplored territory, our small steps lead to bigger victories.  Is it easy?  Rarely, if ever.  But is it exhilarating as you feel the rush of the moment, realize that what you’ve done is leading you toward the bigger vision you have for your life?  Absolutely!

Learning to speak one’s truth

10 Jul

The author as a boy, with father and family dog

Although we have freedom of speech guaranteed in our nation’s constitution, it is increasingly challenging to speak one’s truth, particularly if the viewpoint expressed veers from current public sentiment.

I am an only child, and growing up I was quiet, shy and often kept to myself.  I did this partly out of self-preservation (to avoid name calling and bullying from other children), and partly because my home, my room, my thoughts, were the few places I could go to where I could be fully myself.  In those places, I had to expend no extra energy to simply be.

As I’ve grown up, however, I’ve come to understand the importance of being able to effectively articulate my truth.  I certainly think these thoughts, and perhaps even write them in my notebook, but to express my views publicly for consumption by others is something that has taken a while for me to fully appreciate.  I also know I continue to learn the best ways to do that.

It requires courage to speak your truth.

Sharing what is true for you can be difficult because it is a tough message to share, or perhaps it is a sensitive topic, or your perspective does not align with majority society at a given moment.  In moments where I wonder if I should speak up, I ask myself:  What is the cost of my not speaking up?  How will I feel about this experience or situation?  How will I feel about myself if I don’t speak up?

Typically, asking myself these and other similar questions helps clarify for me the importance of speaking up and out.

For effective two-way communication, you have to entertain the possibility that what is true for you may not be true for someone else – and be prepared to accept it may never be.

We are all unique individuals with distinct personalities and perspectives.  We are bound to disagree, but it we can do so in a spirit of seeking understanding and not to win, or dominate, or convert, that gives both parties the freedom to speak what is true for each of them, while also letting go of any expectation that the other person change their views or values to align with your own.

When you attempt to convert someone to your way of thinking, or notably judge them for not having a popular perspective, you only establish a solid foundation for future conflict and you can potentially cut off future communication, opening the door for arguments, anger and misunderstanding.

Keep your intentions in check.

Not only is it important to know what you are saying, what is true for you, and to decide to speak up, but it’s also important to be clear about why you are sharing what you are sharing.  Our intentions, if positive or favorable, could drive us to share some unsettling news or feedback with someone so they may respond to allegations or take responsibility to turn the situation around.

If we, on the other hand, are using self-expression as a weapon to tear someone else down, to wound them emotionally or tarnish their reputation, then reconsider.  Words have the power to heal or harm – use yours for good.

What I’ve learned about speaking my truth

This week I’ve had a few conversations emerge in which I was fired up, where I felt like an injustice had taken place, or when I felt something needed to be addressed.  Now, most of those close to me know I do not typically get fired up about something, and that it often takes a great deal of poking and nagging to get me to the point of frustration and anger.

Because the frequency of these scenarios was notable for the week in question, I began to consider why was I getting fired up and why was I compelled to take time to have a conversation with someone or write to someone to express concern or disdain for circumstances or scenarios of which I am uncomfortable.  I finally realized that there is, in anyone’s life, that one moment where you realize that staying silent is no longer an option, that speaking what is true for you is everyone’s right, including your own, and you will, then, share accordingly.

I decided last week that the days of my staying silent and allowing injustice to continue and poison our society are over.  No longer will I keep my thoughts to myself, but will share them in a way that engages people to talk more about issues or questions, to keep communication lines open between me and others, and to honor that, like everyone else who steps forward and shares what is true for them, I, too, have the right, ability and platform to do the same.

And now is my season to do precisely that with the style and grace I have been equipped.  And as I prepare to start my graduate studies next month, the level of academic success I achieve will be commensurate with my ability to engage in the discussion in an authentic and transparent manner.


I’m posting every week in 2011!

27 Jan

 

I’ve decided I want to blog more. Rather than just thinking about doing it, I’m starting right now.  I will be posting on this blog once a day / once a week for all of 2011.

I know it won’t be easy, but it might be fun, inspiring, awesome and wonderful.  I know my favorite topic – fiber arts – has so much to offer in the way of possible content, so as I continue my learning and research, so shall I share it here.

If you already read my blog, I hope you’ll encourage me with comments and likes, and good will along the way.  Also, be sure to tell your friends about BrianKnits.com!

Here’s to a love affair with yarn!

Brian

Lament to an old friend

11 Oct

Dear Knitting,

You have been terribly kind and patient with me.  I haven’t been very nice to you these past few weeks and I’d like to say I have good reasons, but they would all sound like contrived excuses.

First, I took you on a cruise to Alaska, then took you out of the bag only twice.  You gave me moments of peace as I marveled at nature and combatted seasickness.

Then, after we returned home, I have picked you up periodically but not with the daily frequency to which, I am sure, you have grown accustomed.

You see, my friend, life has its way of creating diversions that, whether they are urgent or not, keep us from spending time doing the things we really love, enjoying the act of creation in some form that continues to inspire us to create even more.  Whether a full social calendar or study and preparations for the Graduate Record Exam, I, too, have succumbed to the demands of the day.

I tell you this not to make excuses, but to let you know that I miss you and that, ultimately, once the GRE is complete in a couple of weeks, I will have more time to spend with you.  We have many holiday projects to work on using luxurious hand-dyed fibers in exciting colors I procured while on vacation in the Pacific Northwest!

What I love about you, Knitting, is that you are always faithful, patiently awaiting my return, so willing to spring into action when I put needles in hand, and whether in small episodes or a great epic saga, we always manage to work together to create something beautiful.

I began this lament with regret, feeling as if I have let you down in some respect; ultimately, I know you understand that life takes us in unexpected directions.  It is wonderful and comforting to know, however, that there are also certain things in life that are constant, things in which we can always put our trust, and to which we may look for peace and inspiration.  For me, one of those constants is you, my friend, and rest assured – I will return to you again very soon.

Brian

One year of BrianKnits.com approaches!

24 Jun

This is not, per se, a post about fiber arts. Indirectly, I suppose it is. But directly, not.

It’s not that I have surrendered my pursuit of the perfect yarn. Quite the contrary in fact!  For now, as you may have seen, I am spinning my own. What I want to explore today is a follow-up to a recent post I offered readers regarding our passions in life, making sure we prioritize and that we make time to pursue them.

In addition to knitting and spinning, the other great passion of my life is writing. That’s one reason why I founded BrianKnits.com (est. July 2, 2009) - it was a response to not having an immediate outlet for writing and self-expression, and I wanted a place to share my learning as I was experiencing it, as well as a place to hear from readers about the things they’ve learned on their respective journeys into the fiber arts.  It was a great way to bring my passionate trifecta together in perfect harmony!

I’m a professional communicator in corporate America by trade, but creative writing, nonfiction or otherwise, outside of work, is a different genre than key message points and communication strategies. BrianKnits.com was born out of my love of the act of writing.

As July approaches, I am reminded that it was nearly a year ago that I started BrianKnits.com.

In that time, I’ve written about yarn stores I’ve visited.  I shared my adventurous visit to Eustis, FL. and Woodfield Ranch, spending a rainy afternoon with llamas, goats and alpacas (Oh, yes!). I heralded my yarn discoveries in yarn stores from New York City to the provincial hamlet of Sonora, California. I even wrote about my continuing experience as not only a knitter, but also a knitting instructor and later, a yarn spinner. A lot has happened in a year, and I’m so grateful to have this site as my outlet to share, as well as to learn.

As I think about the year to come, I hope to bring even more life (and, admittedly, traffic) to BrianKnits.com. As I continue to challenge myself in the skill and project departments, so, too, will that provide me with learning and insight I can then share here.  And know, kind readers, that as I share those insights, I also openly invite your ideas as well!  I would love for BrianKnits.com to be a place to engage in two-way dialogue, and not just one-way commentary.

The success and longevity of BrianKnits.com is inspiring to me.  It represents something that I have consistently, with discipline, carried on for 12 months.  I didn’t give up, even on the nights and weeks where I felt like I had nothing to say, or wondered if anyone really cared about what I was sharing at all.  I’ve learned that those who have visited my site do care, and have been incredibly supportive.

I appreciate everyone who has visited, subscribed, linked and re-tweeted – and I hope that you continue your support as I work to make BrianKnits.com an even more compelling stop on the information highway, and a site that helps others ignite or fuel their own luscious love affairs with yarn.

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