Trees

The church that owns the property behind our house recently cut down most of the trees. I felt a pang of regret with each huge whomp as they came down. The chainsaws buzzed for days, followed by constant whining as the trees were fed into the chipper. Now the skyline behind our house looks completely different.

At first, I was really upset. I tried to think who I could call to protest this travesty of nature. But since the property belongs to the church, they have every right to chop down the trees and ruin my view. I get up really early so the hullabaloo of chainsaws and chippers wasn’t to my liking either, when I tried to sneak in a little nap in the afternoons. But again, there was nothing I could do about it.

What, you ask, does this story, incredibly interesting as it is—or is not—have to do with writing?

I’m getting there, be patient!

Here’s the clincher: Light floods into my backyard and house now. The trees were too far away to offer real shade and even though I loved watching them sway in the breeze and their leaves flutter down in the fall (except when they landed in my yard and pool), I find I…really kind of like it. The birds seem to have all flocked to my yard to fill all the trees and birdhouses which is good because they’re really fun to watch and even my Bwanna-hunter-cat Pepper can’t scare ALL of them away.

Here’s the analogy to writing. Chopping down trees is like revising your book. See, I told you I was getting there.

You think you can’t live without certain scenes or even characters, but when you mercilessly cut them out, light floods in and you can see the essence of your story. Birds, or ideas and inspiration, come to nibble at your feeders and build a nest. You have less leaves to rake, or story to refine, and you appreciate and fine-tune the one that is left.

Just as pruning, weeding, and cutting back

Are what will make the garden grow

Revising, rewriting, and polishing

Will also make the story glow.