For Saturday, November 21, 2015:
“A society grows great when old men plant trees whose shade they know they shall never sit in.”
One of the things that has always appealed to me about writing books is the thought of leaving something behind when I shuffle off this mortal coil. Something tangible — the book itself, for someone(s) to hold in their hands — and the ideas. I will never know how potential readers will respond, but I hope there will be some response.
The pages of the book are like the leaves on a tree. (Maybe there’s a reason we leaf through the pages!) The shade and shadows they cast will, I hope, provide comfort, perhaps protection. The characters who live there move among the ‘branches,’ up and down the ‘trunk,’ like birds and squirrels, butterflies and bees.
Just as we must fertilize and tend to the trees we plant, so we must with our writerly selves. What do you do for yourself to nourish you and your writing? Do others help?
Some other thoughts to consider, perhaps … What kind of tree are you cultivating? Who or what enjoys its protection? How wide is its shade?
What about the tree feeds you? How will it feed others?