Growing pains...

Instead of writing on Sunday, I spent the entire day, cleaning up our dirt pit of a backyard and transforming it into a place where we will want to hang out. Now as we are a rental and our landlords wouldn't pay for, or allow any major landscaping, we have gotten creative with potted plants, hanging candles, colorful chairs, bright umbrellas, patio stones; all things that can be up and moved without disturbing the original lack of landscaping. It was a hot day and it was sweaty dirty work, but it felt great to be outside of my head and doing something physical.

After thinking so much about my novel, I didn't want to think anymore, and yet as I planted this little herb garden, my mind couldn't help but see the similarities between the days activities and my time behind my desk. I was planting. I was sowing the earth, and putting in seeds, watering them, and waiting for them to grow. I knew, like my novel it would take time, and it has. I started working on our backyard months ago, and little by little I have seen the transformation, and just this morning I hung outside and had breakfast and chatted with my neighbor about...my novel.

That's the thing about writing, it is always happening, whether we think it is or isn't. Out walking, or at an audition, or cooking, or visiting with friends; those little seeds that we planted are growing, one by one into beautiful pages, until eventually they have grown into a book.

1 comment:

lynn said...

I'm so in awe of your little garden. I have a black thumb.

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