Do you hum when you weave? Hymns? Pop? Classical? The more you hum, the better the weaving goes? That’s how it is with me.
I drive my friends nuts when I say that tapestry has voice and it tells you what it wants, how it wants to be woven. Writing stories is like that, too. The characters live, eat sleep, and talk in your head, and pretty soon, they’re taking over everything, your plot and your dialogue, and treating you like a court recorder. Happily for you, you don’t hate the job!
Anyway, given the debacle my efforts at weaving have been lately, I was overjoyed when I realized I was humming while weaving. That, you see, is the commencement of the great dialogue between the weaver and the tapestry being woven.
Then, as the work progresses, comes the veiled and unveiled hints, the suggestions, the tips, the questions, the demands. It all stops short of the cliff where the weaver, sorely tempted, would get up, stomp away, and growl, “weave it yourself!”