I need a hobby! -- Jen Doktorski

This month we’re blogging about hobbies. When I sat down to think about my post, I realized that sadly, I don’t have one. Unless you count obsessively checking my phone and email to see if my agent has reached out to me. When I’m not busy writing, or being a mommy and a wife, I’m either reading, running, or listening to music. But are those hobbies? In my case, I don’t think so. Especially since I run, read, and listen to music in order to come up with plot and character ideas. Running does serve the added purpose of keeping my butt from expanding while it’s planted in the chair writing. But still, it all feels connected somehow.

The more I thought about it, the more I was like, “Hey, I want a hobby. No, I need a hobby.” I want to walk into the craft store with purpose. I want to carve out time or a space in my home for all my hobby stuff. But what space? What stuff? What should my hobby be? I figured I’d start with a list because I always start with a list.

Sewing. In seventh grade I took sewing as an elective and spent the semester making a corduroy pillow shaped like a “J” and a purple, velour jogging suit. (Yes, it was the 80s.) Ever since then I’ve thought many times about buying a sewing machine and trying my hand at it. Maybe I could turn worn out jeans into cool handbags or make a quilt from old concert tees. Who cares if my buttons don’t stay on without crazy glue, and I use duct tape to “hem” pants? Not me. I still have time to learn, right?

Photography. I love taking pictures and every once in a while I get lucky and capture a really great moment or image, which I’ll enlarge and frame and hang in our living room. But my picture taking is still a long way from being a hobby and my phone has made me lazy about remembering to bring my camera, and my eyesight isn’t what it used to be, and not everybody thinks my dog and my shoes are as cute as I do.

Dollhouse construction. Last year, after Santa delivered an unassembled dollhouse kit to my daughter, and I discovered that the cost to have said dollhouse assembled was double what Santa paid for it, my daughter and I spent nearly twelve months building the Cranbury Cove model. It was a great mother/daughter project. It was a loooong mother/daughter project. And though completing it felt like a great accomplishment, neither of us felt compelled to repeat it. But we do like buying those cute dollhouse miniatures.

 

Art. I enjoy drawing and painting and have at least a smidge of talent in this area. Owning an easel, and sketchpads, and all kinds of cool pencils, paints, and charcoal would be awesome. I could take an art class, maybe develop my skills enough to illustrate my own picture book someday. Because the publishing process isn’t difficult enough.

Collecting. Someday if I have lots of disposal income—because, ya know, I’ve finally managed to write that bestselling series with a concept so huge it would be like rolling dystopia, zombies, vampires, and terminal illness into one gigantic ball of awesomeness—I’d love to collect things. Art, rare books, antiques, old maps, tiny tea cups, rescue dogs, Mustang convertibles, waterfront property. Anything. Everything. Because when Joss Whedon buys the rights to my books I’ll be able to do that. For now, refrigerator magnets will have to satisfy my yen for collecting.

Miscellaneous. These are not serious contenders, but so long as I’m listing, I may as well include them. I’d love to be able to surf, play guitar, golf, speak a foreign language, remodel and flip houses, and water ski.

List making. I think we have a winner.