I woke up today to the first snowfall of the year. To some
that brings joy, to others (like me) it brings dread. I’m a warm weather soul
but I must admit that the cold weather does have some advantages. I get a heck
of a lot more writing done.
Everyone knows that it’s tough to sit inside working on a
story when the sun is shining bright and the birds are calling you to enjoy the
outside. And even if you’re lucky enough to have a laptop or be working on hard
copy and are able to be with nature, it’s still hard to concentrate when there’s
so much warbling about.
For me, with the cold weather comes isolation and a valid
excuse to spend the day in my jammies cranking out characters and scenes on the
page. It also helps in the fact that I am finishing a new novel and the extra
gray outside is keeping me focused on the task at hand.
Some of my favorite scenes have been written on blustery
days such as this, it seems nasty weather brings the muse indoors with me. So
here I sit, sipping my hot coffee, watching the bare trees sway and shiver with
the wind, writing the final paragraphs of a novel I started last winter. If
there were a definition of a perfect writing environment, I would say at this
moment I am immersed in it.
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