Are you a puzzler?
I love working a 500-piece puzzle. They’re the perfect size—not too big, not too little. I have a puzzle piece size preference, too. I’m a picky puzzler.
For the times that boggle my mind and body—the heat and mosquitoes preventing me from working in the garden; the business of life that demands my attention and attendance; the acute awareness of the ache in my back; the never-ending chore list I prioritize because, frankly, who wants to tackle mopping and dusting and organizing—these are all reasons to settle my brain with a puzzle.
I open a box on my dining room table and work it with whoever pulls up a seat. I’ve had my father-in-law and mother-in-law, my kids and their spouses, my grandkids, and even invited friends for dinner and a puzzling evening. It’s transitions to a community project.
I have a definite strategy for puzzle completion. Edges first to determine the outline and then tackle the large color patterns that are closest to the boundaries. My grandkids like me to find and pitch them the pieces for the color schemes they work on.
When the puzzling process is flowing and I’m on a roll, after I place a piece, I tap it for good measure and release an audible, “BAM!” It’s the “AH!” of mastery!
The hours fly by, sometimes with little progress. When I’ve sat too long, I switch to another position at the table for a new perspective. The light shines differently. Some days, I just walk away for a bit and when I come back, I find what I’d been overlooking before. “BAM!”
When someone works nearby, I talk through my frustration, and they search with me. “BAM!”
Often, I’ll be doing something else, like waiting for the oven to preheat (yes, I still occasionally use it in this heat) and pause at the puzzle. When I connect a piece on those short, fly-by occasions, the sense of mastery splashes over me. “BAM!”
At some point, while working on a puzzle, I’m convinced there’s a missing piece. There has to be! I’ve combed the table, over and over and over, and the piece is nowhere to be found. The torture is real until, miraculously, I’ve connected all the pieces and created a thing of beauty, or as close to it as it can be with grooves and gaps. “BAM!”
When I connect all the pieces to find there actually is a gaping hole in the puzzle, I encourage myself to delight in the pieces I have accomplished and be thankful for the puzzling process. “BAM!”
Writing is the same puzzling process as working puzzles. Maybe that’s why I enjoy them both.
Writing is connecting small pieces to create a big, colorful picture. It can be a solo process, but I seek community at every step. Writing begs strategy, outlines, main characters, details, and searching. I’ve walked away from production at the laptop to gain a different plot perspective or angle for a character. I’ve spent long stints in front of the laptop with slight accomplishment. When life’s busyness gets in the way, I’ve stolen little patches of time to write. It’s frustrating and exhilarating. It’s celebrating all the little wins along the way to a published novel with a “BAM!”