A Tale of Two Potatoes

Boil 'em, mash 'em, stick 'em in a story

Once upon a time, there was a potato. It grew in silence and secret, underground. Corn might wave to get your attention, and tomatoes blush a showy, nay, slutty red... but not so the humble tater.

Most people don't even know it's there. It swells with potential, shrouded in darkness. Taking unexpected shapes in unseen ways. It's not in any hurry. Good things take time. Growth keeps happening, even though no one is noticing it, or documenting it for social media, or commenting on it every five minutes.

There may be great things in its future. Crisps. Fries. Mash. It might be baked, boiled, fried, re-fried, or roasted in goose fat. It might stay true to its humble roots, or it else grace the tongue of a Queen.

Thousands... no, millions enjoy the potato. Who knows how many might appreciate this one?

Nobody, while it remains buried down there.

While it needed time to percolate itself to fullness, down there in the dark, at some point it needed to be brought out.

The farmer neglected his potato. The skin got good and firm, and still, the tater stayed in the ground. If it had sentience and shovel-shaped paws, like a mole, maybe it could have taken control of its own fate. Powered its way to the surface.

Alas, this was not the case.

"Oh no," the farmer said, "I'm sure nobody wants my grubby rubbishy potato. All the other farmers have much better potatoes than me, anyway."

It's not right to let potatoes rot in the ground. Sooner or later, you need to dig them up, haul them out into the sunlight, and brush the dirt off them.

Another farmer nearby is busy harvesting his potatoes. They will not go to waste, because this farmer is wise. He knows the world needs potatoes. He knows he can provide them. He also knows the importance of timing in this business. The potatoes must be brought out at the right moment.

Oh, but it's tricky for the tater to be exposed after so long hidden. Naked at last for all and sundry to see, and to comment on. Goodness, this one is a bit knobbly, isn't it?

Transitions can be tough, but the tater can weather it. Once ignored, now useful. Essential, even. What meal is complete without this trusty side, preferably with lots of butter and salt?

So: Be like the wise farmer. Don't let your tater rot.

Your tater is your talent, by the way. Your stories. Your voice.

Show us your taters.

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And here's my tater...

THE HUMBLE POTATO

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As you can see, it's not quite ready for harvest and mass distribution just yet. But (and if you have put a book out there yourself, you'll know what's next): every book needs early readers.

Last time, I didn't show you my tater until it was already out in the world. When I finally got the guts to tell you about it, I begged you not to buy it, because I genuinely didn't want to rip you off. I just wanted to share this tiny little win of mine. (Some of you gorgeous, misbegotten, disobedient SCOUNDRELS ignored that request, and I love you for it.)

This time, I thought I'd do it a bit differently. I thought I might invite you along with me. If you'd like to show some support, I can send you an advanced reader copy. It won't cost you a bean. Guilt - gone!

There is no one else I'd rather share this with, and no one else I'd rather offer a sneak peek to. It's a bit easier, being peeled in front of your eyes. I've been doing it almost every day for ages. You get used to people.

If you would like a free copy, in exchange for a thoughtful review, click here.

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Thank you for reading!

See you tomorrow!