Boll weevil monument

          In the small Southern town of Enterprise, Alabama, stands a statue of a woman in a flowing gown holding a boll weevil in her upraised hands. The plaque at her feet reads, “After the boll weevil destroyed (1910-15) the area’s cotton, locals began diversified farming. In gratitude for the resulting prosperity, the city erected a monument to the boll weevil in 1919.”

          This monument was erected as a tribute to the truth that great success can be born out of even the most bitter failures. When the boll weevil migrated from Mexico in the early 1900s, it devastated the cotton crops in the area. One enterprising businessman convinced an almost bankrupt farmer to change from growing cotton to peanuts. It was a success! The next year he had paid off his debts and was selling peanuts to other farmers planning to do the same.

          When tragedy strikes, when our dreams lie in ruins at our feet, when everything we do seems destined to crumble to dust, how do we react? If this Enterprise farmer and others across the South, had never tried planting peanuts, how would Alabama’s future be changed? It is speculation, of course, but the addition of peanut farming throughout the South is certainly at least partially responsible for the increased production and consumption of peanut products. Towns all over the South lost crops to the destructive boll weevil. Many towns dwindled or died in the resulting crisis. Other towns could look back after several years and see the economic wisdom and stability gained from diversifying into peanut farming. Only one town actually put voice to that truth. Only one town chose to honor the very thing that brought about the destruction, recognizing that it also brought the opportunity for the subsequent prosperity that followed their change of direction.

          I feel like that farmer. The difference is I can’t pinpoint the exact cause of my “crop failure”. All I know is it seems as though my creativity has completely dried up. At one time each passing overheard conversation fired my imagination. My mind would fill with characters developing desires and motivations. I would create stories the original speakers would have found hilarious. Passing images would ignite connections in my brain, creating even more stories. That fire, that well-spring of inspiration and creativity is trickling and sputtering. Unlike those cotton farmers of turn of the century Enterprise, Alabama, I’m not sure what has destroyed my crop of creativity. All I know is that it is dying.

          Like that farmer, I need to change my crop. Not forever. Not completely. Just for now. Just as those Alabama farmers changed some of their farmland to peanuts, I will change my writing focus. Instead of continuing the struggle to force myself to write fiction, instead of continuing to try to eradicate whatever has attacked my creativity and instead of continuing the effort to pull reluctant stories from my mind, I’m going to diversify. I have several ideas for non-fiction books and booklets. Some personal, some with commercial potential. I’ll focus on those projects and let the field of fiction lie fallow for a time. Maybe a month, maybe a year, maybe something in between or even more. For this season of my life, however long that might be, my crop is non-fiction. I’m hopeful that soon, like that turn of the century farmer, I’ll have a productive harvest and bright future.

          What about you? Do you need to diversify? Or perhaps you need to narrow your focus. Whatever your situation, I hope 2010 is a year of success!