I know you probably get tired of seeing pictures of my flowers. They have been exceptionally pretty this year. I’m not sure if it’s because we’ve had such incredible weather or if it’s because I’m moving and leaving them behind. I get rather emotional thinking about them living with a new owner. In the past when I’ve moved (and there have been way too many times) the new owner often times will mow them down. They look like a lot of work and for some reason they can’t see the beauty and fulfillment which has the potential to enrich their life.
Writing is a great deal like that I suppose. I can’t tell you how many times someone has said to me, “I always wanted to write a book. I think I’ll do that some day. How hard can it be?” Of course, writing is hard, like gardening, at times. You dig, plant ideas, cultivate the plot and believe your words will form a story. Sometimes they die. Sometimes your words take root, blossoming into the most amazing tale. When the words “THE END” pop up, there is a great sadness that the characters will be left behind. But along the way I’ve managed to harvest a few ideas from my current WIP. Taking them with me insures yet another adventure. The person who says they want to be a writer just continues to mow down any chance of writing by making excuses.
This morning I dug up some of my flowers to take to the new house. It will take several years for them to be as beautiful as I dream. By then I probably will move again and the process will start all over again. Gardening like writing is worth the hard work.