With no other calls on my time than work, I have eschewed my traditional procrastination methods, and have instead cracked on, working wonders in the workroom.
My main efforts have been dedicated to my book project, and over the past 12 weeks or so, it has taken a different turn and seems to have developed a life of its own. Every day I have epiphanies over various aspects, which is, of course, why it has never approached completion. It's been impossible to nail down.
That said, I've actually been enjoying the process, rather than stressing about it. Over the years I've imposed no end of deadlines for finishing it, so I'm not doing that any more. It's enough for me to simply enjoy the act of creation.
Long time readers will know that it's a 'how to' book on making little toy dolls, which has undergone several iterations over the years. I have kept the very early versions on file, and revisiting them recently has demonstrated that it would have been a monumental mistake to have published them.
The current version is by far the most enjoyable, particularly as I've interwoven the 'how to' chapters with a fictional element. No idea whether or not it 'works' but I'm having fun and that's the main thing.
As the 'story' unfolds, I'm being taken down no end of scenic highways and byways, researching historical facts and testing various hypotheses. This morning, for example, I ended up on the Thomas Edison National Historical Park website, following the trail of a particular photograph. The museum is based in New Jersey, and due to Covid-19 is currently closed. Contacting them isn't a straightforward matter. Despite an extensive list of ways to write, telephone or fax, there is no email option.
I can't help thinking that Mr Edison would have lobbied strongly for the inclusion of that universal, simplest, most instantaneous method of communication.
Undaunted, I continued down the rabbit hole, and fetched up on their FB page, where I left a message with my question. Whether or not it is monitored, I don't know. I considered leaving a message on their Twitter feed, but it has an abandoned feel, with only 3 published Tweets in the past year.
If I don't hear anything in the next few days I'll have to resort to the mode of communication which Edison spent his life attempting to supercede..... I'll have to write a letter, print it, put it an envelope, find a stamp and take it to the postbox, from where it will be collected and taken to a local hub, before making its way to an international mail hub, loaded onto a plane and flown 3,500 miles over the North Atlantic, where it will repeat the process in reverse, eventually landing on a mat in the museum in New Jersey.
All to find the answer to a question which should take minutes.
Mr Edison will be turning in his grave.....
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