Fighting Hollyhocks

Years ago, I decided to try hollyhocks in my garden. I bought a plant, waited eagerly for it to bloom, and was horrified to discover I’d bought a short version, with none of the grace of tall hollyhocks, and, worse yet, a double pink that looked far too much like the kleenex flowers people used to make to decorate cars at weddings. I pulled it out, immediately.

Then I got some seeds from my neighbour, who has amazing tall, single, wine-red hollyhocks. I scattered the seeds, let the seedlings grow, and two years later had my first bloom ­– a pale yellow that disappeared against the white of the house. I let it grow, until something better bloomed.

I let more seedlings grow, some outside the fence, and got a flesh-pink flower. That came out, too, and was eventually followed by a lovely medium  pink. But still no wine-red.

This year, I have a new colour, not wine-red, but a delight. It’s white and cassis-red, or purple – I’m not sure how to describe it. And it’s stunning, lovely against the white house, especially with a dark clematis blooming nearby.

I suspect there’s a link between gardening and writing, that struggle to get the story the way I want it, to develop the skills I need to do it well, to accept that this is a many-years effort that may never lead where I think I want to go, but may lead to someplace else, new and interesting.

I can hope, at least.

Maureen

The 1000-Words-A-Day Struggle

I’m struggling to write 1000 new words a day. I fail, almost entirely, on weekends and holidays. And I think I’ll let that be okay – a break is a good thing, right?

Weekdays, writing days, I push myself to write those 1000 words early in the day, before I get drawn into other things.

It’s forcing me into a new rhythm of writing ­– more driving forward, less looking back and editing what I’ve already written. I have less awareness of where I actually am, which is a little disconcerting.

I always find writing the first draft the hardest part of writing a novel, which seems ironic, that a writer would have trouble writing. But ideas come more easily, and editing, too, even when I don’t want to be doing it. New words? They come when they will, some days pouring onto the page, some days not at all. Except now, when I find those words every day.

I don’t worry about quality ­– that comes or doesn’t, and I’ll edit everything later. But to get the words on the page… that’s the thing. And I am doing it.

Maureen

Setting Down Words

There’s something simple about writing, a clarity that comes to me – a peacefulness and comfortableness with myself – that comes in the process of writing itself. There’s also a satisfaction in the product – in creating characters, a story, a world. But separate from that, there’s something in the mechanics of setting down words. I have no idea what it is, or why it happens, but I love it, one of the joys of writing.

Maureen