The Long Game: What my garden has taught me about being an author

When spring rolls around, I always convince myself this will be the year everything grows exactly as planned.

Reality, of course, has other ideas.

This year my potatoes have been thriving. My peppers are covered in flowers. Basil has become almost impossible to keep up with (luckily my son puts it on everything, and I mean everything!), and the tomatoes are doing their best despite Colorado's heat.

Then there are the elephant ears.

Those bulbs have been sitting in their pots for weeks, seemingly determined to prove that dirt can, in fact, do absolutely nothing.

As frustrating as that is, I've realized writing books isn't much different.

Readers see Isle or Sinner sitting on a table at one of our events or listed on Amazon. They don't see the months—or years—spent writing, editing, doubting, rewriting, and wondering if anyone will ever read it.

Sometimes a book takes off in unexpected ways. A reader leaves a wonderful review. Someone from another country discovers one of our stories. We have an amazing day at an event and remember exactly why we keep doing this.

Other days...

Nothing.

No new page reads. No online sales. No messages. Just silence.

It's tempting to think nothing is happening.

But gardeners know better.

Roots grow long before leaves appear.

The strongest plants spend weeks building something underground that no one can see.

Maybe our creative lives work the same way.

Every blog post, social media video, farmer's market, conversation with a reader, every newsletter—it all feels small by itself. But together, they're putting down roots.

Eventually, something breaks through the surface.

One day it's a review.

Another day it's someone who went to our website to find Rina in person rather than buy a sequel from Amazon and says, "I've been following you online for months."

(If you want to say hi in person, click here to see where we will be next!)

Those moments don't happen overnight. They're the harvest from seeds planted long before.

So while I'll continue checking on my stubborn elephant ears (and perhaps giving them a judgmental stare), I'll also keep writing.

Stories, like gardens, reward patience.

And if there's one thing both have taught me, it's this: Growth isn't always visible.

Sometimes the most important work is happening where we can't see it yet. I keep reminding myself of this, because I am not the most patient of creatures. 

If you'd like to see what all those seeds have grown into, we'd love to share our stories with you.  Start an adventure with Ranger and Isle as they fight a plague of Datsoe monsters here, or follow Victoria as she learns that there is more to life than working in a cubicle - and that some of the most dangerous mysteries aren't entirely human here.

Happy reading—and happy growing.