One more September in the books. One more October's commandeered our calendars while we were sleeping, or clipping our toenails, or snorfing up carnitas tacos with pickled red onions.
Now we’re well into new beginnings. Start of fall. Start of School. And for me, the start of year number 53.
This year’s birthday came with a unique gift: a bittersweet nod to the future of humanity.
This year, the first person to wish me happy birthday was my digital scale.
How it knew, I’ve no idea. But it was quite enthusiastic, flashing the words, adding an exclamation point. Displaying a graphic of something resembling a firework.
I found myself laughing. Then thanking it, awkwardly, in the cold echo of the bathroom.
To be fair to the humans in my life, it was a day early. This too, I could not explain. Bug? Feature?
So… thanks, scale. But, tiny suggestion? Knocking a couple of pounds off may have been the more thoughtful gift.
Just saying.
Meanwhile, happy birthday to me, happy October to you, and happy weird future to us all in which we are so beloved by bathroom electronics.
Fair winds and following seas,
Cheyenne
WRITING UPDATE
Great news here. I’ve been pushing this manuscript uphill long enough that I’m thrilled to say the words are coming faster and better than they have in a really long time. Better yet, the joy of writing has fully returned thanks to some tweaks to my process, and hopefully I’ve turned a major corner. I’ll try not to jinx it just yet with a completion date, but it’s coming into view. Yay! If this happy state of affairs lasts till next month, I’ll even share what changed—and why. :)
READING UPDATE
I’ve been exploring all kinds of sea adventure novels lately, and Katherine Howe's A True Account is one of my favorites. Not only is Howe an excellent writer, she's also a sailor and her love for the sea comes through on every page—along with a rollicking go
ROVING UPDATE
The boat spec is done and the first weld scheduled for December. In the meantime, Colin and I are waiting, dreaming, and planning next year’s travels. So far, we’re looking to be in Cherbourg and Düsseldorf in January. Beyond that remains too fuzzy to share just yet, but my inner planner hopes to have things more solid by next month.
BONUS: TIME TRAVELS
Part of the fun of being a fiction writer is the chance—nay, mandate!—to go down geeky rabbit holes of research in a quest for authenticity.
If you’re anything like me, this next bit is for you. If you’d rather read your microwave manual than random tidbits of history, no worries. Your screen, your choice.
If you’re still with me, consider yourself warned.
I decided a character would own a rope factory. Ok. Great. What would that have looked like? What equipment would be there? What sounds?
Cue the historical fact bunny.
Holy cow. Do you know how long we humans have been making rope? They’ve found three-ply cord at Neanderthal sites, for goodness sakes.
In the 19th century, I found more surprises. It wasn’t called a rope factory, but a rope walk. Why? Because to make rope, people walked.
Um. What?
People called spinners attached sisal, hemp, or manila fibers to a rotating hook. As they walked backward, paying out more fibers from bundles at their waists, the hook’s rotation would twist the fibers together into yarn, then multiple yarns into strands. Finally, they twisted multiple strands in the opposite direction to prevent the final rope from unraveling.
Since the length of the ‘walk’ determined how long the final cordage could be, some of the narrow buildings or sheds they worked in were a thousand feet long. Think your job's tough? The average spinner walked 20 miles a day.
Backwards.
So there you go. Rope. Walk. Was that new to you or old hat? Any other 19th century fun that I should have on my radar? Feel free to hit reply. I’d love to know what you think!
And if you're still curious about the process, try watching the first 60 seconds of this YouTube video. It's pretty instructive, and hey, maybe it'll inspire you to go put 40,000 backwards steps on your Fitbit. :)
