Not by strength, but by perseverance

I have a little tea rose plant on my patio. It was given to me as a gift about five years ago and it’s a scrappy little thing, but every year I wonder, is this season going to be its last?

See this little bush sprouts up as expected each spring. It even begins to bud. But then it begins to wither and the buds dry out before they open. I’ve changed planters. I’ve completely replaced soil, sprayed the leaves down with soapy water, and, thinking I was dealing with aphids, I even tried a bit of tobacco water once. (That was nasty!) Turns out it was something a little more tricky to handle. Thrips.

Try as I might, it seems no matter what I do, these microscopic little buggers always strike just when I think this year is going to be the year I’ve finally beaten them back.

The thrips have killed off three other tea roses that I’ve brought home, but this little guy always rallies and gives me one solid bloom come August—despite the fact that I’d cut it back to within an inch of its life to get rid of all the diseased stems and leaves right in the middle of its growing season, making it pour its energy back into growth all over again.

Here it is, the beginning of January. It’s cold. It’s wet. It’s windy. And my little rose bush is the only plant on my balcony standing tall and covered in delicate green leaves right now. When I looked out my living room window today and saw it braving the massive wind and rain we’re getting this week, a single word came to mind: Perseverance.

By all rights, that rose bush should have given up years ago. And, frankly, I wouldn’t have blamed it. The fact that it hasn’t continues to encourage me, not just as a flower gardener, but as a writer.

Overcoming the thrips in writing

It’s hard rallying back year after year after year when, each time it looks like you’re getting close to your goal something comes along that takes you all the way back to the beginning.

And yet, isn’t that what we do as writers?

You spend an entire season pouring all of your energies into producing the perfect bloom. And just when you think that you’re ready to burst out into the world and add your own unique color and fragrance, the thrips arrive.

Writing thrips have many forms:

  • A cruel review or critique
  • A rejection from an editor or agent who had previously been incredibly excited about your manuscript
  • An edit that shows you that you have a lot more revision to do before your story is ready to be published
  • A virus that shuts down the world
  • The loss of income that sends you scurrying to find another way to keep a roof over your head
  • Friends or family who don’t understand why it’s so important for you to slip away somewhere quiet for just a few minutes each day…

And yet, here you are again, preparing to enter into a new year and a new season of growth and blooms—aphids, thrips, and all.

Just that fact that you continue to show up despite all the difficulties you face, all the questions you’ve still yet to find answers to, and all the opposition you face professionally and personally, proves that you’re a writer more than having a dozen different books on the shelf with your name on the spine.

Because, like my little tea rose reminds me each year, there are few things as beautiful in life than a persevering spirit.

Endure fort, my friend!

Jen