The Island of Misfit Pens

So there's a small but growing collection of random pen parts littering my work area. Sometimes it looks like the aftermath of some Napoleonic pen battle, the ragtag remains of valiant soldiers who gave themselves to a higher cause scattered about like smoldering remains.

What's that you say? Not every pen is a success? Well, just remember, I got a C+ in woodshop and have a hard time following directions (even my own). Couple that with temperamental woods like hickory and ebony – both of which explode as if laced with gun powder – and you're left with what we've got here: failure to communicate that I didn't care to start over on this project.

I know what you're thinking, and when I say "explode" I mean it. I wear goggles for a reason, not just as a fashion statement. Ok, so I haven't lost any fingers yet, but that lathe spins at up to 3200 rpm and sometimes the only thing holding those designs together are a little glue and a thick layer of hope.

Sometimes I'm able to salvage parts. Sometimes their cadavers stare up at me for weeks, waiting for Igor to return with a brain marked "Abby Normal" or something. Until then, they float around my work area waiting for me to stumble across them and gasp at the memory of the moment of their demise.

They're the Island of Misfit Pens. Maybe King Moonracer will find a home for them ...

I want to know! Tell me about "one of those days" when your project 'exploded.' Comment below!

Thanks for checking in.
See my current inventory at:
http://www.etsy.com/shop/HopeAndGracePens
and http://articents.com/HopeAndGracePens