Weaving

When I was at junior school I was lucky to be in the education system at a time when it seemed important to educate the whole child as a complete person, not to narrowly channel them into a career before they even knew what they were really good at or had any aptitude for. I have friends who struggled academically in their early life, but were given this broad background, learning how to learn, strong foundations for whatever future might present themselves… and a couple who had struggled at junior school, not only went on to university but went on to Oxford and Cambridge Universities…

Not only did my junior school education arm me with a wide general knowledge so useful in pub quizzes, but it taught skills and crafts too… and country dancing! We had craft lessons… knitting, sewing, making things out of balsa wood… and I’m sure we all did it, boys and girls. I made a skirt… good heavens I remember struggling over the placket… what a complicated thing for an eleven year old to have to do! We did embroidery, and I still have the needle case I made… typical me, I didn’t have roses or a pretty pattern, I had an elephant on one side and a blue whale on the other, the largest land and marine animals…

I think we had a student teacher come in and teach us weaving… I though this was exciting and different, and in the stories and fairy tales I read there were often weavers so I was very interested. I made a little mat, using purples and pinks and white and black I remember… I was very pleased with the effect and I think it was put under a plant pot on the sideboard…

My woven mat has disappeared but I thought about it today as I was writing, because now I do a different sort of weaving; I have a main plot and in this story it is my main character Thomas Radwinter trying to find out what happened between the two people who brought him up, Edward ‘Raddy’ Radwinter and Sylvia Magick, which led to such a catastrophic and difficult childhood for him… difficulties which went back to when the got married and maybe before, and only ended when Raddy left home. On her own, Sylvia descended into alcoholism and died prematurely…. Thomas wants to find out what happened and why.

So the story of Sylvia and Raddy is the main thread, but running along side it is Thomas’s story of his marriage to his second wife, adoption of her son and the prospects of his own child being born in the spring. Then there are other stories, which I have to weave through, the woman accused of trying to steal a baby who is not believed when she says a friend of hers has disappeared, a client of Thomas who is an elderly lady who seems to be under the influence of a mysterious Moroccan called Badruddin, an Armenian cookery book that Thomas is helping his friend to write, difficulties his nephew Otis is having with his relationships… and more…

Just as in our real lives different strands weave through, so I want these other story-lines to be threaded through the main story, not as a distraction, but because sometimes what happens in one area of life affects or enlightens something somewhere else… and also I want to intrigue and entertain without readers feeling that there are great chunks of sub-plot dumped carelessly into the body of the story…

I must get weaving…

http://www.amazon.co.uk/RADWINTER-Lois-Elsden-ebook/dp/B00IFG1SNO/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1419935154&sr=8-2&keywords=lois+elsden

http://www.amazon.co.uk/MAGICK-RADWINTER-Book-LOIS-ELSDEN-ebook/dp/B00OHV4MR0/ref=pd_sim_kinc_1?ie=UTF8&refRID=122F807QEMZ0EE8DZK6E

5 Comments

  1. david lewis

    When I was 12 years old I went to shop class once a week. I made a wallet out of leather and a coffee table that I still have. The table is still in great shape and I still find it hard to believe that I made it at such a young age. I think my second wife took the wallet, not sure.

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  2. david lewis

    That was in Canada when I was in grade school.When I was in high school some of us boys were tested by a professor from Detroit who was to steer us in a career direction. He suggested that I should become a chicken farmer because I was good in economics. My Father went crazy and threatened to pull me out of school. Looking back now it may have been a good idea because most chicken farms are done on a large scale and there owners are extremely rich. I guess my Dad should have read between the lines. Hindsight is mans most useless asset!

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