Read Hooked for Life Online

Authors: Mary Beth Temple

Hooked for Life (16 page)

You’ll Never Walk (or Crochet) Alone

I
f it’s fun to crochet something, and it is, and it’s fun to hang out at a fiber event with your friends, and it is, how much fun will it be to have a whole bunch of crochet friends working on the same or similar projects at the same time? This, my friends, is the crochet-along (CAL)—you and a bunch of buddies decide on something you all want to work on, and you do it at the same time. CALs happen on the Internet as well as in real life, so you can pretty much always find one going on that features a technique or project you are interested in doing.

Everything goes a little better with friends, although there always seems to be someone in the group that in your secret heart of hearts you would like to smack, just a little. She gives lip service to the “friendly” part of “friendly competition,” but you know that in
her
secret heart of hearts that she is getting way too much joy out of finishing first. You know the type—superhigh achievers who try really hard not to sound as
if they are bragging when they achieve the goal of a four-week CAL in four days. Complete with blog posts and photos. And a long lament that now they are finished, what are they going to work on? And you try to take that as encouragement. If she can finish it in four days, surely you can do it in four weeks. But a little part of you has died at the thought that you can never ever catch up.

Some CALs are based on themes and last for a preset time—use as much stash as you can, make as many granny squares as you can, finish as many projects as you can, and so on. These are a lot of fun because you can choose whatever pattern works best for you and not get sucked into making something that perhaps you don’t completely love. And for these types of CALs especially, a little competition can goad you into achieving more than you thought possible.

These types of CALs can also be great in regards to those chronic overachievers … you actually get to feel a little bit sorry for them. On the single-project CAL, an overachiever got to finish her project and gloat—killing herself for a few days but is then off the hook. On these “who can do the most whatever” CALs, she has to keep going. And going, and going, and going … leading to the inevitable CAL for overachievers only: “Who can get carpal tunnel syndrome the fastest?” And no one wants to win that one.

Proudly Multicraftual

G
uys, as much as I love crochet, and I do love it, I have to confess that sometimes I stray from the way of the hook. I sew and spin; I play with a
kumihimo
braider and a rigid heddle loom. I … gasp! … knit, too. In public, sometimes. I have no crafting shame.

I go on and on about knitters looking down on crocheters, because some of them do, and I don’t like that at all, and I seem to have a lot to say on the subject (in run-on sentences sometimes), but I also want to say just a word or two about maybe some “other craft” acceptance on the part of the crocheters. Knitters: All crochet isn’t ugly. Crocheters: All knitters don’t suck.

And while I fully and vocally support the crochet revolution, in which crocheters across the world with hooks in hand peacefully (or stridently depending on our moods) demand respect for crochet, the fact that I like to knit socks should not make me a traitor or a sellout or somewhat less of a crocheter. It just means I like to knit socks.

I do not think that liking to work in one medium takes away from my love for another. My interest in working with my hands is not finite; it does not diminish. My love of craft is not a zero sum game in which working with a pair of needles takes away from my enjoyment of working with a crochet hook. I have room in my heart (if not my stash closet) for all of the crafts I like.

I really don’t know how the “war between the crafts” came about. Yet I know that there are those on both sides of the divide who feel very strongly that knitters are knitters and crocheters are crocheters and never the twain shall meet. I remember on my first visit to Charleston some years ago, a friend who had visited the area before pointed out a scenic estate and said it dated from the Civil War. The young man driving, who attended a local military academy, politely coughed and said, “You mean the War of Northern Aggression?” We quickly agreed that that’s what we meant (he had the car keys, after all), but it made me think. This man had his opinions on the division between North and South and nothing, not even the passage of a hundred years or more, was going to change his mind.

Which is not to say that I am equating an actual war in which lives were lost to the battle between knitting and crochet. While I consider needlecraft to be a lifestyle choice rather than a hobby, I do get that on a scale of one to global annihilation the divide between knitters and crocheters doesn’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. So sometimes I find the vehemence with which one side accuses the other of impropriety to be a bit excessive. No matter how passionate we are about our crocheting, it really is not a matter of life or death if everyone agrees with us. Really.

Actually, stepping away from the crochet from time to time makes me appreciate it more. When I come back after a brief absence (because
I can never stay away for long), I love the hook’s flying along even more. Crochet is so speedy, so immediate; the speed with which the ideas in your head turn into fabric on your hook can be mind boggling. I imagine something, and then a few days or sometimes even hours later, there it is in real life. Vision made reality, in record time. But I still like to knit socks…

Acknowledgments

T
hanks, as always, to my principal cast of K-women: editor Katie Anderson (and her stunt double, Lane Butler), agent Kate Epstein, and daughter Katie Temple, all of whom offer support and words of wisdom (or at least good material) on a regular basis. I don’t know why you all put up with me, but I am eternally grateful that you do.

Thanks to crocheters past, present, and future, the quiet ones, the strident ones, and everyone in between. Special thanks to Kim Werker and Vashti Braha, who set me on this path, even though they didn’t know it at the time.

Please visit
www.hookedforlifepublishing.com/BookPhotos.htm
for full-color project photos, and
www.GettingLoopy.com
for the latest interactive podcast.

“Hooked for Life
is a celebration of what crocheting is to those of us who love it. Not an apologia to those who do not understand, for they probably never will. Not a defense of crochet, for it needs no defending. This book is a celebration of what is wonderful about the craft, nay, the art, of crochet. If you love crochet as I do, or at least have a yarny open mind, please read on. There is more to honor than to scorn, and I welcome you on my journey.”
—Mary Beth Temple

A
s the first humorous essay collection available specifically for crocheters,
Hooked for Life
offers more than forty-five skein-and-hook-infused anecdotes, along with a brief (but by no means complete) history of crochet. Delving into such topics as why crocheting and knitting are “not the same thing!” and whether the center-pull skein is a modern convenience or an urban legend, crocheters will finally encounter a book that knowingly, and humorously, celebrates their craft.

With three fun crochet patterns included as a bonus and tons of hilarious truths about the hook,
Hooked for Life
just might vie for crocheters’time and quite possibly lure them away from current WIPs (works-in-progress).

Mary Beth Temple
has been crocheting since she was introduced to a skein of royal blue acrylic at the age often. She is a frequent writer and pattern designer for all sorts of yarn companies, books, and magazines, including
Interweave Crochet,
and the host of the popular crochet podcast
Getting Loopy.
She is the author of six books and resides in New Jersey with her family and stash.

Other books

In for the Kill by John Lutz
Zeke Bartholomew by Jason Pinter
Acorralado by Kevin Hearne
Saints Of New York by R.J. Ellory
The Fall by Bethany Griffin
A Long Silence by Nicolas Freeling
Decker's Dilemma by Jack Ambraw
Manhandled by Austin Foxxe