Image Alt

What This Writer Learned From Pulling Weeds

What This Writer Learned From Pulling Weeds

IMG_1963Every day, before my toddler’s nap, we walk out to the garden hand in hand.

She loves to sniff the tomatoes and pop them off the vines when they are nothing but hard green marbles, barely sprouted from the yellowing flower.

She gets the biggest thrill out of scattering the hay my husband placed around the plants and wrenching the plants themselves out by the roots, believing that she is helping me “weed.”

The other day, pausing in my own weeding to watch my daughter rip and snort with glee, I started thinking that this garden is a metaphor for the writing life, so here are the things I learned:

1. Sometimes it takes two pairs of eyes to separate the weeds from the vines.

My sister-in-law and I were discussing gardening last night, and she mentioned that she didn’t realize that weeds will actually choke out the crop if not contained. This made me think of writing, of course, and of how necessary it is to have another set of eyes to look over a manuscript during the writing process to help keep the weeds from choking out the plot’s life-giving vines. My husband has edited every manuscript before I submit it to my publisher, and I am convinced by the magnitude of work that I have to do once he’s finished that I would be up to my neck in mandatory rewrites if he did not help me.

2. Rain helps loosen the soil.

IMG_1960I love going out to the garden after a soaking rain because the weeds pull out so effortlessly in comparison to when the soil is parched. Comparatively, reading nourishes the writing process and allows us to pull those weeds out of the manuscript where we might not have seen them so clearly before.

3. Don’t pick the fruit before it’s time.

My daughter and I are both so eager to eat the fruit of our labor that the time from planting to consuming the harvest seems to be dragging by. However, I know that we would be incredibly disappointed with marble-sized tomatoes and green cantaloupes that wouldn’t have any of their ripened sweetness.

IMG_1959So we are going to wait some more.

Therefore, writers, don’t rush the process. Give yourself plenty of time in between the planting and the consuming stage to really make sure your final project is just as “ripe” as it should be. You will be glad you waited!

Gardeners, writers, any other suggestions you would like to share?

201405_TheMidwife_banner_300x250

Comments

  • How true! And in each endeavor, how sweet is the journey! Dontcha love the smell of freshly tilled dirt in the spring…and the mystique of a plot idea before it’s been fleshed out? Then the sight of well-tilled rows of promising young plants is late spring (the ankle-high corn is always a thrill)–and the excitement of your anemic story that a friend tells you has potential. Then there’s the summer glut of veggies when you seem to be covered in weeds, and beans, and tomatoes that you try to shove into friends’ arms so you don’t have to watch the fruit flies hover…and the story with all its plot snarls and unpolished corners, that you hope will someday be something someone might enjoy. Finally in the end, what a joy to pull a jar of peaches off your brightly varied shelf and enjoy it at Thanksgiving! As for the story end of it, you know much better than I what metaphor works here, but I would imagine Amazon reviews like you have could compare. Even more, knowing that God has used you to speak life into our often baby-loathing society must be thrilling!!! Simply put, each season is a sweet part of a sacred journey when viewed as what it is: a gift from the Author of life to allow us to share in the create process:)

    July 13, 2014
  • “So we are going to have to wait some more…” So true with so many things in life. Lucky you to have each other in the garden — each new discovery such a thrill.

    July 13, 2014
  • Jolina, I’m a gardener, too, so your piece really resonated with me. Right now, I’m doing extra duty since my dad, who planted and owns the vegetable garden, has a bad case of shingles! Last night, I “made rain” until after 8:00 P.M. Dad mentioned to me that he’s concerned about some weeds.

    Now, about weeds. I’ve always said, “Get the big ones first and then go back for the little ones.” 1. I can see the little ones better when the big ones are gone. 2. Pulling big ones can uproot the good plants, so one has to be extra-careful when unseating the large weeds. However, pulling the big ones does loosen the soil, very often unleashing a new fertility for the plant. You can see how I might apply this particular weeding advice to writing?

    Thank you so much for this “gardening lesson”. It was just delightful.

    July 13, 2014
  • Lovely piece here. I especially resonate right now with the first one as I’ve shipped off my WIP to my crit partners for their good weeding work.

    July 14, 2014
  • Congrats, Katherine! That is such a scary and exhilarating time. We ALL have so much left to learn, don’t we? 🙂

    July 14, 2014

Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.