The Flea Market
When I was a little girl, my dad used to take me to the flea market. He LOVES places like that. He has easily 10,000 records. You read that number correctly. LPs. All jazz. And we would go hunting. (He is visiting me, and said he recently got airchecks of my favorite--Django Reinhardt--which he is going to give me.) The best thing about flea markets is the hunt.
Once in a blue moon, I still go to the flea market. I think because it reminds my of him and how much I love him. I like going ALONE (a flea market with Demon Baby is a nightmare I don't want to imagine). I wander the aisles in some kind of meditative trance. It relaxes me. I don't collect LPs, but I do buy useless crap sometimes--a pretty plate, or a teacup, or an old book. I sometimes spend an hour just looking through old family photographs there--you know, the old black and whites of families from the 1930s or what have you. I don't know the people, of course, but I wonder who they were. I also wonder why no one wants their pictures anymore. I think of family, and even death. After I am gone, and my kids are gone, and my grandkids are gone, who the hell is going to want my pictures? My crap! Will my junk end up in a flea market?
Anyway, what I love about the hunt is you find something cool, but there, 'round the bend is a table--and maybe there's something even COOLER, some hidden treasure that is just meant to go home with you.
So it was with my work-in-progress yesterday. You see, I have a perfectly servicable plot point. It works. It has a "cool" factor (this is for MAGICKEEPERS, my middle-grade fantasy). But then, out of the blue, I thought of something SO MUCH BETTER. I wavered for a minute. It will mean rewriting a couple of scenes. BUT . . . with this new addition, I know exactly where the book will end. Exactly. My young hero is going to say, "Why didn't I think of this before?"--and he will have an epiphany--just as I did yesterday.
And I guess my point is I can't help myself. There's always the promise of something hidden 'round the next bend. And that hunt, I suppose, is one of the neatest things about being a writer.
Thoughts?
Once in a blue moon, I still go to the flea market. I think because it reminds my of him and how much I love him. I like going ALONE (a flea market with Demon Baby is a nightmare I don't want to imagine). I wander the aisles in some kind of meditative trance. It relaxes me. I don't collect LPs, but I do buy useless crap sometimes--a pretty plate, or a teacup, or an old book. I sometimes spend an hour just looking through old family photographs there--you know, the old black and whites of families from the 1930s or what have you. I don't know the people, of course, but I wonder who they were. I also wonder why no one wants their pictures anymore. I think of family, and even death. After I am gone, and my kids are gone, and my grandkids are gone, who the hell is going to want my pictures? My crap! Will my junk end up in a flea market?
Anyway, what I love about the hunt is you find something cool, but there, 'round the bend is a table--and maybe there's something even COOLER, some hidden treasure that is just meant to go home with you.
So it was with my work-in-progress yesterday. You see, I have a perfectly servicable plot point. It works. It has a "cool" factor (this is for MAGICKEEPERS, my middle-grade fantasy). But then, out of the blue, I thought of something SO MUCH BETTER. I wavered for a minute. It will mean rewriting a couple of scenes. BUT . . . with this new addition, I know exactly where the book will end. Exactly. My young hero is going to say, "Why didn't I think of this before?"--and he will have an epiphany--just as I did yesterday.
And I guess my point is I can't help myself. There's always the promise of something hidden 'round the next bend. And that hunt, I suppose, is one of the neatest things about being a writer.
Thoughts?
posted by Erica Orloff at 7:30 AM
15 Comments:
I furnished and decorated an entire lake cabin with thrift store/flea market stuff. I don't go much anymore, but I remember those times fondly. I still have some of my "treasures."
It's a nice analogy for what happens sometimes in writing. We live for those moments, to dismantle a picture frame and discover a Van Gogh behind the Sonny and Cher poster.
Jude:
Oh, to find a Van Gogh.
E
Flea markets are grand! We have a great one outside of New Braunfels.
I like to look at old furnishings. I love the details in the craftsmanship. Hand carved pieces give me chills. The prices make me faint.
I never could understand the photo thing either. I see people looking at them, I've looked myself. I have boxes of old family photos I'm going through now. I can't imagine selling them to strangers.
I hope you have a great visit with your dad! If you happen by a flea market, I hope you find a treasure.
Take care!
I love wandering at Flea Markets too, Erica. They can be sad in a way, but really drives home the fact it's all just "things." We can't take 'em with us.
My daughter and I hit at least one in the summer, and it's always fun to browse, and imagine who owned the items, etc. I did find a cool player, that has waterfalls, and babbling brook sounds. I love it. :)
Living in TN, though, I expect to see Larry the Cable Guy edging in at every table I stop at. LOL.
Erica, I get those hidden treasures while I'm writing all the time. That's why I don't plot in depth. I think it kills my desire to dig up those treasures. This way my mind is always open to them.
We go to flea markets about twice a year. I'm the same way, looking for hidden treasures. :)
Middle Grade Fantasy? OMG. We are twins! Except my demon baby is a four foot - 14 yr old beagle.
I used to love to wander through flea markets, antique 'malls' and such. These days I bring the same wandering, touching, mental tasting to bookstores. Especially the independent ones though there are far too few of those.
I love looking at the shelves, reading titles, gazing at covers, taking in the overall arrangement then zooming in on one section or a single book. And looking for that next gem right around the corner.
I do look at some garage sales when walking my OCDoggie, but it's not the same.
Hi Muse:
I know . . . sometimes I think of buying them and making a collage of them.
E
ladonna:
I used to buy old costume jewelry. Now, less so . . . mostly because I don't wear much jewelry anymore--just one bracelet and a watch.
E
edie:
Ditto. Same reason I'm not a huge outliner.
E
Hi Sarah:
LOL! This is my first middle-grade. The first one comes out in 2009 . . . and I am having a ball!
E
Sarah:
P.S. I have three dogs . . . :-)
E
The first chapter of Garlic - my current WIP - is on the crapometer if you'd like to take a look.
http://crapometer.blogspot.com/
We currently have 2 dogs and a cat. Most I've had was 3 dogs and 3 cats. The cocker mix came close to being as much work and expense as having a human kid. Close but not quite there.
I don't envy you the mix in your household. ;-)
Definitely, I love when that happens! Sometimes, when I'm procrastinating or writing much more slowly than normal, I think my mind is calling a halt to things while it digs up such a discovery.
sarah:
Our most beloved dog, who died a couple of years ago, was a cocker mix. She was as close to perfect as any creature or human can come.
Hi Spy:
I think so too. I think I'm just intuiting that something "more" is needed.
E
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