Craft Envy
Guest Post by Deborah Crombie
I have craft envy. A bad case of it. It probably started when my grandmother tried to teach me to knit. Total failure. Sewing, ditto. Even sewing on Girl Scout badges was a challenge—lots of pricked thumbs. I could never figure out how to use a thimble.
Fast forward to sensible adult. I took a weaving class because I was fascinated by the beautiful yarns. I even dreamed of having a loom in my living room, because they are so cool. Then I learned how hard it was to set up a pattern. I made one throw (which I still have) and that was it. Quits.
Then a friend who is a beautiful quilter offered to teach me to quilt. I bought fabric. Lots of fabric. That part was so much fun. (Fat quarters—what a great name!) We made a design. We cut out some little squares. I sewed two of them together. That was, um, three years ago… The fabric still waits, along with my cute little sewing kit.
Last year I made up my mind that I was going to really work at making a beautiful journal. You know, the kind with ART and WORDS. Very creative, very unique. I bought $100 worth of art supplies. I bought a nice box to put them in. And there they sit, along with my beautiful, blank, journal.
So I live vicariously through my arty, crafty, talented characters. I’ve had a watercolor painter (LEAVE THE GRAVE GREEN.) A tile maker (A FINER END.) A weaver (DREAMING OF THE BONES.) A chef and a maker of fine Scotch (NOW MAY YOU WEEP.) A designer of art deco jewelry (WHERE MEMORIES LIE.) A fabric artist (NECESSARY AS BLOOD.)
And now, in THE SOUND OF BROKEN GLASS, a brilliant guitarist. I’m not sure playing guitar counts as crafty, but it’s certainly artistic. I had a huge amount of fun learning about guitars and guitarists and what makes them tick.
And I just barely resisted the temptation to buy an electric guitar to sit in my living room. Unplayed.
The Sound of Broken Glass
Deborah Crombie
Published Feb 25, 2014
In the past…
A blisteringly hot August in Crystal Palace, a solitary thirteen-year-old boy meets his next door neighbor, a recently widowed young teacher hoping to make a new start in the tight-knit South London community. Drawn together by loneliness, the unlikely pair forms a deep connection that ends in a shattering act of betrayal.
In the present…
On a cold January morning in London, Detective Inspector Gemma James is assigned to lead a Murder Investigation Team in South London, along with her colleague, Detective Sergeant Melody Talbot. Their first case: a crime scene at a seedy hotel in Crystal Palace. The victim: a well-respected barrister, found naked, trussed, and strangled. Is it an unsavory accident or murder? In either case, he was not alone, and Gemma’s team must find his companion--a search that leads them into unexpected new discoveries. Ultimately, they will begin to question everything they think they know about their world and those they trust most.
DEBORAH CROMBIE is a native Texan who has lived in both England and Scotland. She lives in McKinney, Texas, sharing a house that is more than one hundred years old with her husband, three cats, and two German shepherds.
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