
Seeds planted too late, according to the experts at the garden shop. But I wanted to try. It was late July, the seeds might sprout but they'd never bloom. Or so I was told. Now here we are in late September with some glorious, delicate, unexpected color to lead us into the Fall. A simple parable for readers and writers alike: whether it's a new novel, a memoir, or some poetry, or if it's picking up Moby-Dick, Wuthering Heights, or The Count of Montecristo. It's never too late to get started.