Gardening teaches us many things that we can apply to other areas—especially in a writer’s life. One thing I’ve noted of late is that dead things are sometimes not really dead.
We humans can determine death by listening for a heartbeat, but what about with plants? When a potted plant doesn’t get enough water and shrivels up, is it really dead? Maybe or maybe not. Sometimes a bit of TLC will revive it. But when it’s really dead, no amount of water or care will help.
We humans can determine death by listening for a heartbeat, but what about with plants? When a potted plant doesn’t get enough water and shrivels up, is it really dead? Maybe or maybe not. Sometimes a bit of TLC will revive it. But when it’s really dead, no amount of water or care will help.
Some of my manuscripts hide, comatose, in rarely opened drawers or computer files. Maybe words, once written, also die without light...or should I say...without readers.
On the other hand, maybe the comatose stories…like Sleeping Beauty…just need someone who believes in them. Some of these stories just might respond to some TLC. A bit of revision—some cutting, some new scenes—maybe there’s still some life in them. Maybe they’ll still grow into a story worth sharing.
As for my neglected hanging basket. I think it’s dead. 
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