I feel like I'm back in college!
The nice thing is that it seemed to kind of take on a life of its own. Once I got past a certain point, it just kind of happened (and took me along for the ride). I still have a boat-load of work to do, but it's looking more and more like it could happen before Sock Summit. Yay!
I had several mini-freakouts this week. In addition to having the deadline of getting the book off to the editors so they had a reasonable amount of time to look at it before the book designer needs it, I had a huge order to ship out, a bunch of patterns to tweak slightly before I could ship said order, a sock design that's due at the end of the month and a birthday party to throw that involved hosting a dozen squealing five and six-year-old girls. Add to that the fact that I'd been completely neglecting the house in favor of the book and so needed to do some major cleaning before having a bunch of kids over (and then, of course, having to clean again after they all left), and I was in meltdown city around Thursday. I managed to survive (I always seem to time my meltdowns for the peak and then everything resolves itself less painfully than I'd imagined), and now I'm looking forward to a relatively relaxing week before things start to get crazy again.
Speaking of Sock Summit, have you seen the teacher list? I've resigned myself to working that weekend but boy would I like to be able to just take a bunch of classes. I'm pretty psyched that I made that list, though - I just hope that there are a few people out there who want to take my classes! I mean, I'm no Barbara Walker or Meg Swanson (or Anna Zilbourg, or Lucy Neatby, or Cat Bordhi, or Priscilla Gibson-Roberts...) but somehow I managed to fool somebody somewhere into thinking I might have something to add to the mix. If you're reading this and coming to Sock Summit, please take my class! Pretty please? I'll be your BFF!
Finding my name on a list with such august company makes me flail with total insecurity (what the heck are they thinking? I can't ever hope to compare to such greatness!), which is how I've been feeling about my book as well. I really, really hope that someone will buy it once I have it printed. It's such a huge leap of faith. People buy my patterns, sure, but there are so many great sock books out there (and more are flooding the market every day). Am I crazy to be putting out a surplus good in a bad economy? Of course, those other sock books won't have my designs in them, so I'm hoping that counts for something. But then I wonder who in the heck I think I am to think that people will buy a book for my designs (the book will have plenty of stuff in it besides designs, but I can't be sure that it's stuff that isn't concurrently being written about by someone else whose book will come out two months before mine...). Am I completely crazy? At least I know my mom will buy one (but I doubt she wants to pay $20k for it, so I'll have to sell a few to other people as well...). Does everyone feel this way before a book they've written comes out?
Now that I've totally revealed the depths of my insecurities, I wanted to mention something funny but totally unrelated to knitting. We've been watching Weeds on DVD and quickly realized during the first episode that the made-up suburb of Agrestic is actually the community that we lived in right before we moved to Oregon from So. Cal. It's a riot trying to spot places we recognize (like the park that I used to take Sydney to all the time when she was a baby, and the little shopping center that was down the hill from us). We keep trying to spot our house, but everything looks so similar that we can't always tell if it's our street or not. When we were driving to San Diego for TNNA we actually drove through the neighborhood and almost missed our house because the street looked so homogeneous. Boy do I not miss the suburbs!