These past four months have seen tremendous changes, more so in the personal arena than anywhere else, and I haven’t written one, single, bloody word.
I pondered this fact before the bonfire’s crackling flames on All Hallow’s Eve, and was granted sudden insight. Am I a foul weather writer?
Yup, that must be it!
What other reason could keep me from my keyboard? Certainly not the advent of my cherished son’s recent wedding, or another trans-Atlantic trip to Europe! What about the emotional scandal and ensuing drama that erupted within my nearest social circle?
Now all you fellow story writers out there — I can hear your shout. “But, put it to paper!” I know, I know. There’s no denying it’s great fodder to feed my creative beastie.
But how could I think of locking away my senses when the bright sun is smiling its warmth on a chorus of birdsong, when tantalizing scents from lush green herbs and the cool moss of dark forests call and beckon — who am I to ignore Nature’s bid? What about my babies in the kitchen garden, and their relentless cries for me to come outside and encourage them to grow? The exhilarating feel of moist soil under my fingers, the sharp tomato scent that rises from branches as I coax weeds into making room for roots…
Then the clouds turn dark. An icy wind arrives from the north, swirling dusky chimney smoke, sending fallen leaves of summer’s end skittering across lawns into crimson piles rich with earthy perfume. This is when I find my motivation to write. I’m no longer capable of brushing aside that nagging urge to put words on paper. Before long, I find myself dusting off cobwebs to reveal, like magic, previous ideas and imaginative sparks ready for creative play. All those characters, story plots, and settings that crept into mind during these last months of frenetic sunshine (and just as succinctly crept out again as I chased blue skies and butterflies), they are mine to reclaim. So here’s my sign. I am a foul weather author.
However, lest you begin to think that I’ve been totally off-the writing-grid, I do have some news.
My short-story, “A Murder of Crows”, has been selected for publication in The League of Eclectic Authors’ second anthology, which will be a collection of ghost stories. Submissions are still ongoing so it will be some time yet before I have a publication date to share.
In September, my writers’ group hosted a guest speaker to meet with us and talk about the current state of the publishing industry. I had the great pleasure in meeting Patrick Lobrutto, an Editor/Agent who recently re-located to the Washington, D.C. area from Manhattan, where he spent the last 30 years working for NYC publishing houses, coincidentally putting my N.Y. roots to the test. My accent changed lightening quick, back into its old cadence (after 20 years!). Sheesh, Hot Dawgs and Cawfee and … oh, nevermind. Here’s a link to Patrick’s website:
And lastly, our recently published book, “Bill of Frights”, got some media traction for the Halloween season. Here are links to a couple of news articles:
Now that the weather has finally turned, it’s time for me to get back to work on my next story. I’m dusting off an outline on a short story that I plan to submit for publication in yet another anthology, “Snowpocalypse”. Take a wild guess what that collection of stories will be about. You guessed right. It will be a collection of short stories with the central theme of an ‘end-of-the-world’ snowstorm — perfect subject matter for a Foul Weather Author!