Sunday, September 7, 2014
I live in Washington state where we get a ton of rain. Blackberries grow along the road in wild thickets, even along the freeway where they are constantly enveloped in a fog of exhaust. And yet, these blackberry plants produce fruit. Sometimes big, fat, juicy, delicious fruit, though no one cares for them. No one prunes the vines, pulls the weeds, or waters them during dry spells. These blackberry plants are on their own. Most of their fruit dries on the vine, shrivels up, unpicked, unwanted. But for those brave souls who venture off the beaten path, some yummy fruit can be found for free.
Indie writers are much like these roadside blackberry bushes, striving to produce fruit even though few people will ever read our books. We are not pampered by publishers, cultivated and marketed by a team of paid professionals. More often than not, our books can't even be found in brick and mortar stores. Our fruit is hard to find and though it is often just as delicious, much of it remains on the vine, never having been picked, never seen, never tasted.
But for those adventurous souls who venture out, who dare to leave the supermarket fruit behind in search of something new, some exciting finds are waiting for you. Supermarket fruit is delicious, to be sure, but there's nothing quite like winding your hand through the brambles to take hold of that fat, juicy berry that would otherwise go to waste.