The garden of your mind that is. Is it like mine, speeding along at what sometimes feels like a million miles an hour? Images, ideas and inspiration sleet in and out of my brain and whilst as a writer I appreciate having a vivid imagination, it can occasionally feel like I’m going mad.
Why? Because the abundance of ideas I get arrive at the most awkward of times. It always seems to be the dead of night and unless I clamber out of bed and write them down, by the time morning arrives they’ve vanished into the ether.
Of course they’re a lot of weeds in amongst the flowers. What seemed to make sense , in my half awake state, turn out to be utterly ridiculous come the cold light of day.
I consult my notes and that’s when the pruning begins: cutting back on the dead wood, trimming the over effusive and hopefully arriving at ideas that provide a smooth, manicured outline for my next manuscript.
I don’t always tend my garden as much as I should, but when I do and manage to create a work that reaches out and spreads its seeds far and wide, it’s a wonderful feeling.