Let Your Book Grow Like a Weed, Not a Bonsai
A weed doesn’t care. Maybe your book shouldn’t either.
A bonsai tree is beautiful. Small. Controlled. Trimmed daily. But it only grows where it’s allowed.
A weed doesn’t care. It grows where no one is looking. Where it “shouldn’t.” It cracks concrete to reach the light.
Your book might be like that. Not something you build, but something that’s already growing. Not a task, but a wild thread pulling through your life in quiet ways.
Some writers try to shape too soon. They plan the chapters. Choose the tone. Edit each word before moving on. But what if the book doesn’t want to be shaped yet?
What if the book is already alive, and shaping it too early is just fear with a spreadsheet? The messy notes. The voice memos. The parts that don’t match. That might be the book. Not the draft before the book. The book.
You might think it needed a better beginning. But maybe it already began.
This is such a good analogy, and hits a good spot this morning. Thank you.
A weed is just a plant we label as less preferable than others. Otherwise, they’re just plants we know we don’t control. A nice pointer there.