Spinning a Yarn, Weaving a Tale by Dana Cameron

Jenn McKinlay: I am absolutely thrilled to have long time Jungle Red Writers' friend Dana Cameron with us today and not just because she is talking about a craft I have been wanting to take up for years -- weaving -- but also because she's an amazing author. Still, how cool is that? Serendipity, no? Take it away, Dana...

Dana Cameron: 

I’m a big fan of having something that you love to do, while giving 

yourself permission to be absolutely awful at it. Right now, it’s 

weaving and spinning. I’ve been weaving for almost three years now, 

and I’m improving. Three months ago, when a dear friend was looking 

to rehome her grandmother’s spinning wheel, she kindly thought of 

me. I’m still learning how to spin a consistent yarn. But! Going 

through these imperfect processes is invaluable when I’m working on 

writing too.

       Part of the reason was that I learned to sew at a young age and I love textiles. Part of it was curiosity about the historical side of things, and how women (especially) spent part of their working days. Spinning can take you as far back as 40-50,000 years ago, and weaving, almost that far back into Neanderthal technology. I also was curious about the places in which spinning and weaving show up in many cultural traditions: Athene’s contest with Arachne; Penelope weaving her stole to keep her home-invading suitors at bay; Spider Woman, who gave the Navajo people textile crafts and agriculture; the Nornir, who ordained everyone’s fate by spinning, weaving, then severing the threads of a life at the foot of Yggdrasil.

       So, good stuff for an archaeologist. And good stuff for a writer, too: after a day spent spinning one's wheels in the writing mines, sitting at the loom or spinning wheel can produce something solid. It’s incredibly soothing to have moved along in one project, if not another, and it gives you perspective. 

       For example, when I began weaving, my goal was to make some napkins. I’d fume over incorrect warping, skipped threads, or the wrong color change, but learned to ask: is it still something I could use to wipe spaghetti sauce off my face? If so, cool! I’ve made a thing and I can either fix it now or do better next time. If I’m left with a tangled pile of threads, I can ask myself: Do I need to learn more, can I improve—will this give into study and practice? Or: Is this really what I want to be doing with these threads—would I be better using them for macrame? 

       It also reminds me that if I have a pile of words that refuse to form a story, I need to ask myself: Am I taking this project in the right direction? Or maybe it’s a mess, but some of the words are still calling me: Does this need to be a poem? Does it indicate something that needs more research, first? Do I want to write, or am I trying to create but need another medium? Am I writing with passion but about the wrong thing? 

       Getting into a rhythm of weaving or spinning is a good distraction at the end of the day, an opportunity for random ideas to bob to the surface, while you’re focusing on something else. And if it’s not so calming—say, you’ve got your warping sheds all wrong, or you can’t get the right speed in your treadling and the spinning wheel’s orifice keeps swallowing your broken yarn—well, you feel that much better about writing afterwards. Learning something new can remind you how far you’ve come in your other skills. Doing research into the history and folklore of these crafts has provided inspiration for my Fangborn novels and stories: in Hellbender, Zoe Miller perceives time and space as intersecting warp and weft threads. 

       Although having these activities is useful for both letting your brain rest and inspiring other ideas, there is one major drawback. You have to be on constant guard against cats attempting to ensnare themselves in your warp, chew on your yarn, or attack a bag of unspun wool that still smells ever-so-faintly of sheep. 

How about you, Reds and Readers, what activities do you do to let your brain rest and recharge? 

Dana Cameron writes across many genres, but especially crime and speculative fiction. Her work, inspired by her career in archaeology, has won multiple Anthony, Agatha, and Macavity Awards, and has been nominated for the Edgar Award. Dana's Emma Fielding archaeology mysteries were optioned by Muse Entertainment and appear on the Hallmark Movie & Mystery Channel. Pandora’s Orphans: A Fangborn Collection drops on July 13, 2021, and is available for pre-order everywhere. For more information, check out www.dcle-publishing.com/pandoras-orphans.