Pruning

Apple Blossoms

This past week has been occupied with getting manuscripts into shape.  Late last week, I finished the editorial notes on “Deadly Delusions,” my novelette for the forthcoming Honorverse anthology, Challenges.

I also continued my re-read of the manuscript of the fourth Over Where novel.  The end is in sight, but I’m not there yet.  Then I will need to make all the fiddling little changes in the text.

We had crazy weather last week, with cooler temperatures than we’ve had for the last seven Aprils.  (This is based upon our own records, for our own yard.)  We had a little rain, and a fair amount of wind.  We’re starting to get flowers, both on our little apple tree and some wild flowers.

I took advantage of the fact that our perennials are coming back a bit more slowly than previous years to get out there and prune the silver lace vine that grows on the west side of our house.  I’m always reluctant to do this in the winter because many of our smaller birds—sparrows and finches, especially—shelter in the thick matt of vegetation from years gone by.

Providing shelter for the creatures that share our yard is one reason we wait to clear away the previous year’s foliage in other areas as well.  Now that we know the toads, lizards, and bees are waking up, we’ll finish getting the yard ready for summer.  Jim dug one compost trench back during a warmer spell in the winter, and a second one just last week.  Using these both enriches our garden beds, and reduces our waste.

As I industriously hacked away at the silver lace matt, I found myself thinking—as I have before, including when my odd little novel Asphodel had just come out—about how pruning and shaping benefits a story, just as it benefits a yard.   Some people seem to think that word count is all that matters, but I’m a firm believer that it’s not lots of words, but rather the right words that make for the best possible story.