Hello. It has been a few weeks since I’ve put words down here. I apologize to my readers. Blogs, so I’m told, are something you are supposed to keep building and growing. Posting in three week gaps might not be the best way to do that. Regardless, for me, and for you I hope, the time away has proved fruitful. I have had a lot of progress in my work and am roughly three chapters from being finished!
The obvious anecdote to many blogs this time of year is to write something seasonal. And by that I mean compose something about the holidays that would inspire, relate, or simply share a story from this time of year. I would like write about how the change of seasons can affect writing, and mine in particular.
During summer, I typically do not get much done. My adventurous spirit is thrilled to be going on hikes, to the beach, or take up a walk down a beaten path with my family. My writer’s spirit has difficulty with it. Every day could be the same for weeks. Glorious sunshine is wonderful, but stagnate. There is nothing to awaken my sense of wonder. I know, I know, there are those sun bathers out there who might vomit at the wish for snow or a dark and stormy night, but have you ever read a novel that took place in a perpetual warm summer air? There is almost always a storm.
Fall. Now, in Michigan and some of the other northern states, that is one of the best times for writing! Inspiration abounds this time of year. I fell in love with my wife in the fall. Life is in motion as people shift across the country and the world. All students head back to university. The leaves change into crimson and gold, we buy, if I may take a line from You’ve Got Mail, “a bouquet of freshly sharpened pencils”, in preparation for studies, and the morning air is cold and crisp bringing with it a sense of intimacy and clarity. This is my most productive time of year.
I can remember, during my freshman year of college, walking from Van Osdel Hall where I lived to one of the academic buildings and being whipped by the wintry winds. The cold would literally snatch the air from your lungs in the minus fifteen temperatures. For me, and again you sun bathers might very well unfriend me on Facebook, the winter is a quiet and beautiful season of the year. Have you ever gone on a midnight stroll beneath a full moon in winter? Everything is so quiet, most people nestled under blankets and all of the animals, migrated, hibernating, or asleep. I get such a thrill walking in a dark morning or evening during winter, crunching the newly fallen snow underfoot while gentle snowflakes descend. I imagine I could be in Norway, Sweden, or some other far flung local of Norse Mythology. I look forward to the first blizzard. I write a lot this time of year.
The love affair with winter can only last so long before you long to stretch your legs and go outside for a barefoot walk in the grass. Spring is when I start to slow down my writing. I’m not sure why. The only thought that comes to mind is that I need a break from my work. I hope to avoid the self derailment this year. I should have a novel to promote this time, so, my hope is that will be inspiration enough to continue.
Do you have particular times of the year you are most productive? Thanks for being patient for the latest post! Now, back to my novel…