Wednesday, June 10, 2009


I am getting ready to harvest and enjoy fresh garden peas—something I love every late spring/early summer. Something I love every year like the rhubarb and the strawberries. Later, it will be the raspberries and the potatoes.

I suppose every meal cannot be amazing. Sometimes, dinner is simply a means to satiate hunger. Other times, planning is taken to make a meal extraordinary. Time is well spent and the results are worth every bite.

So what does this have to do with writing?

This evening I had a writing session that moved along with moments of discovery and surprising new directions. It flowed, perhaps not effortlessly, but pretty close to it. I know every time I sit down to write, it will not be perfect spring peas from the garden or some other feast, but, at the very least, it can provide sustenance in another page of my manuscript.

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