Hi, I’m Rianna Cohen, a speculative fiction writer and hot chocolate aficionado currently reading The Fire Within by Chris d’Lacey. If you feel so inclined, please:
This is stiltgrass, the styrofoam peanut of its day. It’s not hard to discern why it was chosen for packaging—the plant is very soft and, when gathered into a large bundle (or bouquet, if you will—it can grow up to three feet), the result is supportive and squishy yet incredibly lightweight.
Unfortunately—much like packing peanuts—stiltgrass is hard to get rid of. Direct from our friends at Wikipedia:
The plant was accidentally introduced into the U.S. state of Tennessee around 1919 as a result of being used as a packing material in shipments of porcelain from China. It has spread throughout the Southeastern U.S. and is now found in 26 states.
Stiltgrass is a huge problem where I live—both in my own neighborhood and in parks. Blink and it’s advanced two feet. Sneeze and it’s crept another five. Even the Master Gardeners at NCSU grimaced when asked, saying that, aside from heavy pre-emergent chemical use and removal before the plant goes to seed, well, there’s not much to be done. Results from this method won’t be seen for several years—because you don’t know how many times the plant has gone to seed before you arrived on the scene.
Pulling it by hand is nearly impossible. It comes up easily, but the plant is so prolific that, after hours of plucking, it looks like no work has been done. It grows in the sun, it grows in deep shade. It seemingly survives both drought and deluge. Despite placing cardboard boxes at odd angles and planting densely to choke it out, it finds a way.
I spent last week deep in the weeds of revision outlining. Many an hour passed unraveling story threads and digging for plot solutions. It’s the latter which often feels like pulling stiltgrass. Every time I solve two plot problems, five sprout in their place.
It’s progress that can’t be seen, isn’t noticed.
In moments like this, rather than seeing weeds all around me, I aim to embody the weed itself. Because stiltgrass is nothing if not resilient. If it takes several years to choke out my story problems, well, there’s not much I can do about that.
But, like stiltgrass, I hope to always find a way.
Until next time, may your gardens be filled with native plants,
Rianna
April…
Music: the latest from Imagine Dragons, The Score, and this classic gem
Read: little parts of a lot of things, several versions of Snow White
Wrote: lots of scribbles on notecards, two-sentence ideas in the notes app
Up Next:
Music: Hopefully something old, weird, or unexpected
Reading: Research for future projects, mostly non-fiction
Writing: Revisions… Year of Middle Grade continues :)
More: Stiltgrass (inevitably), stretching hamstrings, prayer
Less: Allergies and illness (one can hope)
As always, I love your writing and wisdom and wit.