Thoughts About Writing
I've been in a tussle this past week with the weather, the lawn and my distracted self.
The weather, I can't control. It's rained and rained, then rained some more. But this is the Pacific Northwest, known for its temperate rainforest — it's only to be expected.
The grass in our garden, in everyone's garden, is enjoying this weather. As my sister said the other day — the sun comes out and the grass says, Hey this is lovely! Then the rain comes and the grass is like Yeah! This is SO good! And before you can blink, the grass is knee-high and the dog can't find a clear patch to pee.
The other day, a break in the rain came in the afternoon. The sun shone brightly (and with a surprising heat), the grass dried and I heard a lawnmower in the distance.
Oh yes, I thought. I need to cut the grass.
As usual, something came up — maybe someone asked what's for dinner or the dog needed feeding or I remembered I needed to put a load of washing on.
In all of this, I forgot to mow the lawn.
The next day sees torrential rain again. The grass has grown a foot longer overnight and the whole process starts again.
There’s the weather I can't control, the ever-growing grass and my distracted self.
I know what you're thinking: you thought you were going to read some insightful thoughts about writing but you're actually reading about this woman who can't get it together to mow the grass.
Stay with me. I'm wondering if there's a metaphor here.
You Can’t Control the Weather
I've been writing a book for a while now. I always hesitate a little when I say I'm writing a book; I almost flinch. I don't know why. But it is what I'm doing, writing a book.
When I first started, it was something I couldn't control. I had all these wild ideas but no knowledge of how to begin or how to build characters or how to write a story that someone else might want to read.
Sometimes, I found I could write and write — no one could stop me. On other days, I felt like I was floating on a calm sea in a dinghy, watching the horizon bob up and down, waiting. Waiting for the weather to change and a strong breeze to push me in the right direction.
After a few months of this — yes, it has taken me a long time, I honestly have no idea how people thrash out a book in a matter of weeks — I entered a new phase.
The Ever-Growing Grass Phase
I've decided I like this phase. This is where I've printed out all those rambling scenes and chapters that don't make much sense and laid them out all over the floor. By paying attention, I can see where the weeds are. These are the type of weeds that aren't pretty like a buttercup or a daisy. These are those thick weeds that grow in clumps and really need to be removed.
This will take effort. Some of these scenes I find hard to let go of. I worry that if I remove them, I'll leave a bald patch and I won't know how to fill it in. Then I realise it just needs more time.
It's at this point I'm mowing the grass. I'm getting rid of the excess, perhaps the length of a scene or prose that's too dense or flowery or other areas that need general improvement. I leave some buttercups and rough edges around the borders. I can't quite get to them. I'm not worried by this. There should always be a few areas left to grow for depth and beauty. Sometimes, things can be too perfect.
The Distracted-Self Phase
Here's where things start getting serious. If I don't remember to cut the grass — because I've got distracted by something else i.e writing this blog post — the grass will grow so long it will become difficult to mow in one go. If I try to go straight in and mow it as short as usual, the mower gets caught on thick tufts and shudders to a halt. As a battery-powered mower, it doesn't quite have the blunt power of a fossil-fuel vehicle. So, here I am in danger of getting stuck.
I go back a bit, raise the blade and try again, cutting just the top. It isn't a total disaster but it does take more time. Strength and endurance are required to get to the end. And then the mower runs out of power. The battery will take time to recharge and it's due to rain again the following day. Patience is needed.
Eventually, the grass does get cut and the resulting lawn is very pleasing. As much as I love the wildness of uncut grass, the satisfaction of seeing the garden being cared for, feels good. And it smells wonderful.
A few things I’ve learnt:
I know the grass will grow again.
I know I have an idea for another story.
I know the process will start again.
I need to trust this.
Photo by Tanya Clarke 2017
