Nothing but weeds will grow there.
Grass disdains even the notion of venturing into the dampish shadows. And after a valiant attempt, even a beautiful little magnolia tree lost its life in the dank outpost. (My gardening skills were beyond naïve at that horticultural low point of my life. Thankfully, I’ve learned much since then.)
So, over the years I have essentially ignored the little spot, concentrating my efforts on the beautifully sun-bleached vistas of my tee-tiny plot…
My trusty, four-legged sidekick and I are going in.
Armed with a hoe, a trowel, a humongous bag of mulch and four clumps of dwarf mondo grass, me and my dog are taking back our troublesome little corner!
While this daily author’s blog may seem like a terribly odd place to note this journey/rescue mission, I trust with a little extrapolation all you authors out there can see the correlation.
Every writer has such an abandoned corner in their literary skills. A certain “thing” that we try our darnedest to ignore. Even if this avoidance is not intentional I’m sure if you look hard enough you will find that it is there.
It’s probably something little, something corny, something that you feel doesn’t even really bear mentioning. But it is a part of your whole.
There’s no doubt I could have a beautiful backyard despite that dark little corner. I could simply work around it, hide it behind prettier, easier things…
But I’d be missing an opportunity.
My backyard is tiny enough, hacking off a corner of it simply because I’m afraid to f**k it up is really kind of stupid.
So, grab your tools, your muse and some dwarf mondo grass and tackle the forgotten!
And so here today’s very weird “Go and get ‘em!” speech.
*chuckles at the blatant silliness/poorly-worded-wisdom of it all*
Chloe and her mondo