There’s something ancient and intuitive about the connection between gardening and creative work. Both are slow crafts, rooted in patience, intention, and hope. Writers and artists have long turned to the garden not just for rest, but for reflection—a quiet space to watch life unfold, fail, and bloom again.
As the poet May Sarton once wrote:
“A garden is always a series of losses set against a few triumphs, like life itself.”
In many ways, a garden is a story. Each seed planted is a beginning. Each harvest, a resolution. And just like in writing, the mess in the middle often teaches us the most. So today I want to share my practice of garden journaling. Regardless if you’re and romance author growing characters or a gardener growing zinnias, this practice offers a way to observe your creative seasons, track your growth, and reconnect with the joy of slow-making. Let your garden be your muse. Let the page be your soil. Let something beautiful grow.
Garden Journaling & Story Roots: Tending the Inner Plot
There’s something magical about keeping a garden journal. Something slow, intentional, and deeply reflective. It’s not just about tracking what grows—it’s about understanding the cycles of effort, growth, failure, and unexpected beauty. It’s not so different from writing a romance novel.
As gardeners, we tend our spaces with care and hope. As writers, we do the same. Both practices ask us to show up regularly, plant seeds we’re not sure will take, prune back what isn’t working, and believe in blooms we haven’t seen yet.
The garden teaches us how to write. The writing teaches us how to grow. So what happens when we combine the two? Whether you’re growing tomatoes or chapters, here are a few gentle prompts and practices to help you use garden journaling to deepen your creative work:
A Garden Reflection Journal for Writers:
🌿 1. Start with the Season You’re In
Before you begin writing or planting, reflect: What kind of season am I in creatively? Am I in a spring of new ideas, a summer of steady growth, a fall of harvesting, or a winter of rest and revision?
🪴 2. Log What You’ve Planted (In the Soil & On the Page)
Gardeners write down seeds, dates, and locations. Writers can do the same. Keep track of story seeds—ideas, characters, themes—that you’ve tucked into your creative soil. What are you hoping to nurture? What do you want to bloom?
🌻 3. Reflect on Growth (and the Parts That Didn’t Take)
Not every plant thrives. Not every scene belongs. Use your journal to reflect honestly: What’s flourishing? What needs thinning out? What surprised you? Let go of what’s not working without shame—it’s all part of the cycle.
📝 4. Observe Without Judgment
Some days the garden looks wild. Some days the story feels messy. That’s okay. Instead of fixing, try noticing. Write down what you see, feel, and sense. Resistance softens when we observe without trying to control.
💗 5. Capture Beauty, Even If It’s Small
A single bloom. A line of dialogue that sings. A moment where you felt like a writer. Write it down. Beauty is easy to miss if we’re only tracking progress. This is a record of wonder, too.
🌸 6. Write to Grow Yourself, Not Just the Work
A garden journal isn’t just about the plants—it’s about the gardener. Let your writing practice be the same. Use your journal to ask: What am I learning about myself through this process? Where do I need more light? More rest?
Whether you’re elbow-deep in soil or tangled in plot twists, remember this: creativity is a living thing. It blooms in its own time. It needs tending, and patience, and faith. So open your journal like a gate to the garden. Step inside. Write what you see. And trust that something is growing—even if it’s just you.
