If you’re knitting with multiple colors, there will probably come a time where you mess up (it’s difficult to juggle multiple strings without a mistake or two), and sometimes it takes a while for you to figure it out. Sometimes that results in surprise patterns, which can be surprisingly beautiful and make you decide to change the direction of your current project, or can be horrifyingly ugly and make you want to burn everything everywhere forever.
Writing a book is the same; in the course of writing your story, you’ll find things happening that you didn’t expect. New plot complications will arrive, new side stories will unravel, new characters will reveal themselves from betwixt the luminous petaled asscheeks of a flower man; sometimes these little things will add up to make great new structures within your novel that you never expected and cherish all the more for it! Other times it’ll take you down the windy road to tangent city, and you’ll need to take a bulldozer to the mountain pass.
2. You usually want a tight knit, sometimes tighter than others
When you knit a blanket or scarf or what-have-you, you want the knit to be tight, to keep the water or snow or just general elements out, to keep body-heat in, and to keep the thing from falling apart. Sometimes the knit needs to be tighter than others, depending on what you’re making and for what kind of weather it was made for. You wouldn’t want to be caught in a snowstorm with a summer t-shirt!
Likewise, the weave of your story needs to be tight, to prevent plot from spilling out or characters being inappropriately exposed. When you read a story, the flow should appear seamless, as if every last word is inextricable, and to remove a single one would be like removing a keystone from a jenga tower.
Sometimes, depending on your genre and tone, the knit can be a little more breathable than others--to pull from television, no one asks why Bugs Bunny can pull a carrot from nowhere, or how Brian Griffin could possibly have a human son older than he is, because it’s just accepted that that’s how that world works; once the structure is set up, you can safely function within those parameters.
You also need to beware of going too tight, leaving yourself no leeway with which to make the next stitch. You need to leave yourself room to breathe, or you’ll inevitably reach an impasse and have to go back.
3. Pattern or no--everyone has a way to get the job done
Some people can only work with a pattern; some people absolutely CANNOT work with a pattern; and some people bounce between the two, or go half-and-half.
But whether you start out with an outline, or just go by the seat of your pants, in knitting or writing, all that matters is that you get it done. Whatever gets you there best, that’s the way you take the journey.
4. It may turn into something else, and that’s okay
Sometimes a scarf becomes a shirt; sometimes a dress becomes a blanket, or a blanket becomes a snuggie.
Sometimes you start out with a novel, and end up with a screenplay, or a podcast, or a musical, or a webcomic, or an experimental new artform that can’t quite be described.
And that’s fine. No, in fact, it’s better than fine, it’s GREAT! Some of the best plot twists and turns come about organically, or else blindside you while you’re taking a nap, the same way that some of the best patterns you develop in your knitting could be the result of a screw-up; the failure of one project can be the success of another.
Follow new leads; let them take you where they want, and don’t be afraid to explore alternative routes. Sometimes you need to take the mega super highway, but other times the scenic backroute, while longer, is just better. Even if you do fall into a couple bear traps on the way.
Story or tapestry, you’ll be happy you took the risk.
