Post on September 2, 2026:


As a beginning gardener, I was perpetually frustrated.  The first year I tried to plant a garden, everything died.  Same for the second year.  Same for the third, fourth, and fifth years.  Finally, I gave up.

It seemed to be impossible to grow anything in my postage-stamp-sized back yard that was entirely in full shade.  I decided I would try again when we were able to buy a house that had land in full sun and no HOA to mercilessly rip out the strawberry plants I'd had the audacity to try to sneak into my full sun front yard.

It took six more years before that happened.

Finally, due to an incredible gift from God, we were able to put down enough money for the down payment on a house.  It was a very small house with a fifth of an acre of badly degraded land covered in garbage and bindweed.  And we were joyful to have it!

I planted a whole lot of seeds in the ground.  I watered every day.  I got a few sprouts.  Ten percent of those sprouts even lived!  That year, I got a few tiny peas, a few tiny carrots, a few tiny green beans, eleven spaghetti squashes, five tiny watermelons, and about forty large zucchinis.

When our first hard frost hit and killed all the zucchinis, the last plants that were still producing, I stared at those mounds of gigantic dead leaves, my shoulders drooping.
I thought: "It's over."

I spent the winter hoping and planning for spring.  I couldn't garden, so instead, I researched.  I read hundreds of books.  I started watching YouTube videos.  I got active in forums.

I learned that burying kitchen scraps in the garden results in better soil and free fertilizer, so I tried it.  By digging, I discovered that my soil is pure sand interspersed with a lot of large rocks, which means it drains lickety split and is hard as a brick during our bone-dry summers.

I learned the names of my weeds.  I started looking up which ones were edible.  I started tasting the edible ones.  I decided dandelions are disgusting, but amaranth is okay and purslane is good.  I started thinking, "Wait, why don't I just let all the tasty edible weeds grow, and eat them?"

That spring, I planted even more seeds and watered them daily.  Again, most died.  This time, some successes from the previous year were now failures.  But I had some successes that were failures the previous year, and my spaghetti squash / zucchini cross turned out tasty.

I kept researching all through the summer.

I learned there is such a thing as cover crops.  I learned that some of them are edible.  I learned that there is such a thing as winter crops.

My eyebrows rose.

I learned that my climate isn't actually a desert (which means less than 10 inches of rain a year) or a prairie (10-15 inches of rain a year), it's a savannah: we get between 15-20 inches of rain a year, most of it in the winter, which is enough to support a lot of tall grasses and flowers and a few trees.  All of our wild plants are extremely drought tolerant and/or grow through the winter.

My eyebrows rose.

I learned that our growing zone is 7b: far from tropical (we get plenty of snow!), but mild enough that most winter annual vegetables can do fine here.  We rarely have snow on the ground for longer than a day because our daytime temperatures are high enough to melt it, so the soil is usually soft and moist and full of green growing things all winter long.  I learned that broccoli and garlic and peas can all grow through the winter, and in most climates, prefer it.  I learned that most cold-hardy plants are best harvested in winter, because that's when they convert all their starch into sugar and taste sweet.

My eyebrows rose.

I had hated being garden-less in the winter, so I decided to never let it happen again.  I tried edible cover crops that fall, and the results blew me away.  Sure, they grew very slowly — everything grows slowly in winter — but the plants required no water, they had no insects on them, and everything tasted sweet.

From then on, I had two main growing seasons (summer and winter) and two main harvest seasons (spring and fall).  That doubled the amount of food I could grow in the same space, and I didn't ever have to worry about crop rotation, because I was already doing that by default.  The only problem was that winter crops were very easy, but summer crops were still very hard.  If only there were some way to grow summer crops that didn't need daily watering and weren't constantly covered in bugs . . .

And then I read Joseph Lofthouse's Landrace Gardening.

I was shocked by how simple the answer was:

1) Collect as much genetic diversity as possible.
2) Plant a whole ton of seeds.
3) Treat them however you want to treat them.
4) 99% of them will probably die.  Don't worry about that.
5) Let them cross however they please.
6) Save seeds from all the plants you like that make seeds.
7) Do it again the next year with the seeds you saved.
8) Add in more genetics you're interested in as you find them.

And . . . that's really it.  You collect a lot of different ideas (or genes) and give them a try.  Don't worry if most fail.  Do more of whatever works well for you.  And keep on collecting new ideas (or genes) so you can keep trying new things and making new nifty discoveries.  Pretty soon, the population will be better for you than anything you can buy.

This isn't a magic bullet that guarantees success in any one thing you want.  In gardening, sometimes a species will be a failure.  Sometimes an entire plant family will be a failure.  I'm determined to get runner beans and bananas to grow here, and neither one has so far obliged me.  But I have pinto beans and tepary beans, and my apple trees look amazing.  It may be a long time before I can find runner beans and bananas that are able to thrive in my climate.  But I will keep on trying.

Sometimes people see my garden and enthuse, "You have such a green thumb!  90% of everything I plant dies."

I innocently reply: "You want to know the secret to my green thumb?  90% of everything I plant dies.  I just keep planting more."

They look shocked.

Then I laugh and assure them I probably don't have any more talent than they do — I just try weird stuff and do more of what works.  I offer them seeds of tasty plants that grow like weeds in our climate (some are literal weeds!), and therefore require no skill to grow.  They often get excited about that.  It is wonderful to grow crops that are easy.

Here are some fairly universal gardening principles that will probably help you out, regardless of your growing conditions:

  • Improve your soil.  This usually means adding bits and pieces of wood, autumn leaves, kitchen scraps, and other dead stuff to it.  Don't dig unless you have to — just put the organic material on top of the soil.  If you do need to dig in order to plant something or get something out (such as a rock or a carrot), take the opportunity to bury lots of good stuff in there before replacing the soil.

  • Keep all the organic material the land offers you, except for seeds of the weeds you don't like — or, of course, the seeds or clones of wonderful things you want to share with other people.

  • Be friendly with your beneficial wildlife.  You can be as unfriendly as you want towards pests, but try to be nice to your allies and respect habitats for them.

  • Learn about your climate.  Learn your edible weeds.  Learn what grows like a weed.  Try those things.  Work on gradually adapting your tastes towards what you can grow, as well as gradually adapting everything you grow to suit your tastes.

  • Clone everything you really love that you can clone.  Grafts, cuttings, divisions, suckers, and so forth are all natural clones.

  • Plant the most promising seeds you can find of every species you love.  Yes, even fruit trees.  You can have seedlings slowly growing to maturity while you have mature clones of the same species giving you a harvest today.  Clones are nice right now.  Seedlings have the potential to surpass those clones tomorrow.  You don't have to choose just one of those or the other.  Do both!  (As long as you have something else to enjoy while you're waiting, the years of waiting will be over sooner than you think.)

  • If 90% of everything you plant seems to die . . . that's normal.  In a very harsh climate or one not well suited to whatever you're trying, 99% or 99.9% can happen.  There's a reason most plants make a whole lot of seeds.  Just keep trying new ideas, and keep on planting more.

    • And if you see parallels to other aspects of life in those pieces of advice about gardening . . . well, hey, I do, too.

    I often think about that tiny, full shade growing space that was all I once had.  If I hadn't given up, if I'd decided to try something different and researched soil improvement and shade-loving edible plants, I would have found dozens of excellent options.  I could have been growing violets, Turk's cap, currants, skirret, sweet woodruff, and even a pawpaw tree ten years ago.  But I gave up too early.

    It's okay to give up if the thing you've been trying isn't all that important to you.  But if it is . . . don't give up.  Just look for new ideas to try.  Maybe there's something awesome you have never considered just waiting for you to discover it.

    Maybe your garden is bad for bananas, but fantastic for figs.




    About the Author


    Hi!  I'm Emily Martha Sorensen!  I have a wonderful husband, seven kids who are often a handful, a madcap eccentric swarm of characters in my head, and I'm a devout Christian who always prioritizes loving God and loving my neighbor.

    I write fantasy and science fiction that is full of whimsy.

    I write clever characters who charge straight through my plot and spend it spinning wildly off the rails.  (Those brats.)

    I write magic systems with strict rules and surprising limitations.

    I write plot twists that will make your jaw drop.

    I write romance after the happily-ever-after.  That's where the relationship starts!

    I write darkness that exists only to help characters grow towards greater light.

    I write —

    Wait, where did those uncooperative protagonists put the plot this time?  They just ran off with it, cackling maniacally!

    Well, I hope they'll leave you grinning.



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    Sure!  If you want to talk to me about something (which does not involve buying your marketing services), fill out this form, and I'll probably reply fairly soonish.  :)                      
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