Authors these days are Charlies in the chocolate factory trying to pass a test of resolve to win the prize. The test is how hard we are willing to work to build our writing business. The prize is real estate in desirable neighborhoods bordering authors with stratospheric book sales stats. Resolve is the trump card. Good marketing can sell most any product but a strong product without good marketing hasn’t got much of a prayer—nothing new here, but it’s a painful situation for those of us who are drawn more to the art and less to the commerce involved.

In our twittery, in your face, instaworld, not-so-new ideas are repackaged daily and pushed to us with dizzying speed. All the elements of business success are available for a mere click:

• 12 steps to becoming a bestselling author
• 18 must have spreadsheets that put you in control of your writing career
• 1001 ways to market your books

But, what if you prize writing less modified for general consumption and more like heirloom seeds cultivated in an organic garden?

Organic Writing

Heirloom seeds are passed down through generations to preserve wide varieties of produce that feature different flavors and unusual colors.  Some literary traditions are like that. Richard Thomas said works of literary merit should stand the test of time, have realistic and layered characters and complex emotions, and be concerned with the truth.

In an organic garden, weeds you don’t want are allowed to grow alongside healthy plants.  Careful tending produces food that hearkens back to the days we picked fruit off trees, popped it into our mouths, and let the juices run down our chins. To produce a strong work of literary merit is a slow, labor intensive process as well. You have to get down into the weeds in your soul to produce memorable characters that stand the test of time. Complex emotions, like flavorful fruit, must be allowed to ripen on the tree, not a market-driven timetable. As for truth, digging in soil to separate roots that intertwine is slow work.

It strikes me that God is like an organic gardener. In the parable about the weeds growing among the wheat (Matthew 13: 24-30) the weeds are allowed to grow because their removal might disturb the healthy roots of God’s heirloom crop. Perhaps that’s why the market is small. The price is high. To control the cost, we prefer to deal with the weeds using our own methods, but the results are often tasteless.

You can’t shortchange the organic process. It is slow. It is dependent on environmental factors beyond our control. There are crop failures. But when I see our organic farmers feeding our local community healthy, nourishing food I am encouraged to go and do likewise in my writing.

A friend sent me an email today. She wrote:

The last read in my time with our Lord was out of your companion book on page 44. Deuteronomy 4:9. I felt a new challenge in “Teach what you’ve seen and heard to your children and grandchildren.”  I’m going to look for opportunities to that with my great grandsons. Thank you for this little book.”

If my words nourish hearts, if they become seeds for posterity, that is a reward greater than any prize.

Don’t get me wrong.  I love to win prizes…for about thirty seconds it is a great feeling. But a prize is awarded in a competition. I consider my writing a journey instead of a race.  If I finish my journey well, I do hope to be rewarded with readers.  What blesses a gardener more than watching people enjoy the fruit of her labors?  I welcome the work that invites a reward, but I would rather work in the field than the factory.