What Are You Harvesting?

Right now all over America, farmers are hard at work bringing in the harvest a year’s crops have yielded.

If they planned well, did their diligence and were fortunately enough to avoid severe storms, they most likely have a bumper crop.

Just like Farmer Brown in Iowa, you are harvesting as well. Maybe you’re not picking the last of the tomatoes but you are reaping the writing seeds you sowed way back when you began your year.

Hopefully, you decided on what you wanted to harvest right about now and planted the right seeds. You worked on that craft and made sure you got in your weekly word count.

Things come up just like on the farm. Perhaps you’ve dodged more than your share of early spring snows and late summer tornadoes. But what did you do after the storm? Did you care for your writing crop or did you throw in the towel?

The answer to that question determines what you’re reaping at this moment. If you are a farmer, you always farm. When things get rough and don’t go your way, you farm. When storms come across your crops, you still farm. When the tornado leaves, you pick up the pieces and, well, farm.

Writers—true honest to goodness committed wordsmiths—write. When things are good, they write. When things are bad, they still hammer out word counts. When the storms of life cause waves of despair to crash over them, they still write.

Why? The farmer can answer that better than I can. Right now—today—he’s very glad he kept farming because his silos are being filled, his cupboards are being stocked with food for the winter and his bank account is busting at the seams. He’s reaping what he sowed.

Finding Your Sweet Spot

I played competitive tennis in high school and college. I quickly learned that if I positioned my racket to connect with the ball in a certain spot, I could put the ball wherever I wanted. It’s known as the sweet spot.

I’d like to encourage you to apply the concept of the sweet spot to your writing because everything has one. Here are a few things I learned about the sweet spot from a tennis racket.

It’s About the Journey, Not the Destination

Almost daily I speak to writers who pine for publication. They figure once they get there, they will have arrived. They’ll be where they always wanted to be. Sadly, I also know published authors who look back with an emptiness that haunts them. Why? They were so concerned about the destination of publication, they forgot to enjoy the trip.

It reminds me of a bicycling event in central Florida I rode once. The route took riders right by the space shuttle on launch pad 39-A at Cape Canaveral, as well as the largest known eagle’s nest in the United States. The roadway was cut right through coastal marsh land, providing a natural home for the alligators, snakes and countless water fowl.

At the end of the event, I listened as a group of riders standing close by recounted their trip.