Dandelion Clocks

When my brother Chris was really little my sister Lizzie and I gave him a dandelion clock to blow. He looked at it, took it from us, and then, instead of blowing the seeds away, tried to eat it. The look on his face of complete disgust was hilarious, and we all laughed.

I've loved dandelions all my life, they're one of the few "weeds" that I actually enjoy more than many cultivated flowers. And, they get everywhere. Anyone who's seen these golden marvels knows their little mains of yellow-orange petals well. But now I'm going to talk about them in a different way: I'm going to talk about them as a literary object.

Recently, one of my tutors likened ideas to dandelions. An idea floats in as a seed, newly flown from it's dandelion clock bed. If it flies into good soil it plants itself and, over time, grows into a new dandelion. This could be likened to the writing process. Just like the flowers, the idea wilts and dies if it comes up too early. If the cold weather confuses it it won't grow correctly, just as if a writer doesn't plan well enough in advance. On the other side though, if the writer plans too much, for too long, the dandelion could miss it's chance to flower.

If the idea does come up, then it still has to get through the growth stage, if a deer comes along and eats it it's not necessarily going to flower. it still could of course, depending on what the deer eats and if there's enough time for it to reshoot.

If the flower does finally bloom, there's still a chance it could get eaten. There are plenty of animals that enjoy dandelion blooms as a snack and the risk that it might not make it is one that it has to take. The bloom can be likened to the editing/publishing process. Though the hard part is supposedly over, the real story of the dandelion is just beginning.

And finally if it does make it to seed. If the seeds are distributed, if the book gets published, there's no guarantee that your audience will enjoy it. Some books, take the dreaded twilight, distribute and only seem to hit fertile soil. Some encounter my brother's metaphorical mouth and only get a look of disgust.

Of course, what I'm saying is that the writing/editing/publishing process is a hard one. There are many twists and turns with no definite success. Which is why writing shouldn't be about profit, it should be about enjoyment, your own personal accomplishment, or perhaps just the challenge. Just like the dandelion has to grow to ensure the survival of the next generation, I also have to try. I wouldn't be vain enough to claim that I will create the next generation of book, or even that I'd be responsible for even one, but I might spark an idea, I might lead to something, and I want to try to. I want to know, when I die, that I tried my best to fulfill this dream, because even if I don't make it, I will have been one of the people who tried, and didn't stop trying.

In my most recent attempt I wrote about a world that was full of dandelions and clocks thereof. I explained them being there by pinning them down as a weed that got everywhere, that spread through the Realms as freely as the main race of people in my series.

Yes, I love dandelions, because they bring hope that one day I will publish something that will hit fertile soil and grow into more ideas, and be part of the chain-reaction that effects the whole world.