GARDEN DATE: 2012.5.6
I’ve underestimated the weeds and work and overestimated my
stamina, which means I’m woefully behind in my schedule. I’ve not completed the
next leg of my weeding plan to reach the sitting area.
I’ve learned through gardening, not to expect one season a
garden to make! Gardens are works in progress—exactly like books. Editors
demand deadlines and so books cannot be tweaked as much as gardens.
Before I begin a book I develop a loose outline with points
of where I want to be with the story, time-wise or story-wise. I walk the story
through my head, just the key points.
In my garden, I want the entire path before I begin to
develop a plan on weeding, pruning, and mulching. All this has to happen before
a plant or seed goes into the ground.
I have an idea when I’m writing of how I want each segment
to look, just as I have ideas on how I want each part of my garden to look.
Does it happen that way? Not usually.
What impedes my garden and writing schedules? Distractions,
new ideas and review. How sweet, a robin is splashing about in the birdbath.
Wish the top were more secure. It’s not a tight fit since it’s not the original
top. Fortunately, the robin is light enough to safely bathe.
After four hours of weeding, I had to stop working before I
finished the piece I’d set as my goal. I became distracted by a patch of weeds
outside my designated area but that garden seemed in more urgent need of
weeding.
Sometimes, I’m plotting along and new idea invades my
process. I have to stop and fiddle with it and it just right. You combine a
couple of things you have lying about in other manuscripts and it is---a new
idea!
Forging ahead requires looking behind. That backward glance
shows you what you missed. How could you miss a Maple sapling, two feet tall
when you pulled the wild garlic and chokecherry starts growing all around the
young tree?
When I read what I’ve written the day before, I find
saplings of too much narrative sprouting where there should be dialog. How did
I miss several boring paragraphs? Too anxious to move on weeding, writing? Not
expecting a sapling, hiding in plain sight? It happens…and so does the compost
pile. But that’s another story!
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