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Apr. 21st, 2008 @ 12:35 pm Gardening (and writing) 101

I spent almost the whole day outside yesterday working in the garden. Lots of chores to catch up on. I'm feeling a little stiff today. Toting those bags of dirt and heavy pots has a way of catching up with you. Usually when I work in the yard, my thoughts go to the manuscript I'm working on, and a lot seems to get worked out in the physical labor of weeding, digging, and trimming. But right now I don't have a work in progress--I have one book about to be released and another finished draft that I am giving some sitting time so I have distance before beginning a revision.

So instead, as I worked, my thoughts drifted to writing and thinking about the whole process. You'd think by now I would understand it fully and completely, but just as my yard is an ongoing process, established plants rooting out others, new varieties thriving where other plants have continually failed, and annuals that are not meant to live past a season needing to be replanted, my process changes with each book too. Maybe that's what is so enticing about the whole affair in the first place. I never really own it, I just get to go along for the ride. Yeah, complaining a bit at times (like I moan about my back right now) but I'm also completely captivated by the trip once it's done. I guess that's why I go back for more.

I've been asked a lot lately about inspiration (and of course I am hoping some will hit me soon so I can dig in on another. Should I worry?) but one thing I was thinking about yesterday as I was digging and planting is the quote from C.S. Lewis, "We read to know that we are not alone," and I thought about my process in hindsight, and I can't help but wonder if we write to know we are not alone too. We are seeking connection on some level, that our questions are someone else's questions too? And that is usually all I have. Questions, not answers.

More to do in the yard today. But easier stuff. My back needs some distance too. And maybe inspiration will hit me when I'm not looking. It usually does.
talk to me . . .
Brody