The writing life ain't pretty. Four l-o-n-g chapters in and, four weeks to go before my deadline, someone asking for a headshot is lucky not to get this one -------->
It's Saturday (whatever that is) and my summer cold has moved from my throat to my chest. I dream about being at the computer, writing. No naked men, no magical creatures, just me and the laptop.
It's Saturday (whatever that is) and my summer cold has moved from my throat to my chest. I dream about being at the computer, writing. No naked men, no magical creatures, just me and the laptop.
I'm looking forward to having this book done, mainly because I can't wait to see how I pull it off. Writing about history feels like a collaboration between the evidence and the storyteller (that's me). The challenge is that life -- the events that become "history" -- happens to millions of people at a time, and the storyteller must simplify it enough to be intelligible, but not so much that you lose the complexity that gives life its flavor.
My bio might say "dress historian", but clothing is just the way I learn about life. Pink and Blue was about the lives of parents and children, not about baby dresses and rompers. As someone who has been a kid and parent, it was about my life, but just a teensy bit, since it covered over a hundred years of history. Sex and Unisex is about the lives of people who experienced the 1960s and 1970s, so it totally intersects with my life. At the same time, I want it to connect with readers under 35, whose lives today are still buffeted by the turbulence of that era. So I write, and cough, and drink throat-soothing tea, and write some more, as the story unfolds in my head and on my screen. Wish me luck.
My bio might say "dress historian", but clothing is just the way I learn about life. Pink and Blue was about the lives of parents and children, not about baby dresses and rompers. As someone who has been a kid and parent, it was about my life, but just a teensy bit, since it covered over a hundred years of history. Sex and Unisex is about the lives of people who experienced the 1960s and 1970s, so it totally intersects with my life. At the same time, I want it to connect with readers under 35, whose lives today are still buffeted by the turbulence of that era. So I write, and cough, and drink throat-soothing tea, and write some more, as the story unfolds in my head and on my screen. Wish me luck.
