It's a grand day for writing. The wind is whipping the trees around (no power outages at our house yet, but there's still hope) and the rain comes and goes so it's impossible to plan any outdoor activities. The clouds are cruising west to east so fast they look like the time release camera shots on reality TV shows, the sun only winking at us now and then. It's sweatshirt weather, and it's about time! We've had a long, hot summer but it's been so nice for so long, I'm ready for a stormy day.
The muse likes days like this. It's easy to motivate oneself to write, to work on the latest story or novel, when the air is calm and comfortable inside and I can draw energy from the invigorating weather outside the window. And it's a three day weekend! Maybe we'll have three days of crazy weather and I'll finish my entire project...
The only other activity that's mildly entertaining on such a day is cooking, but of course that comes after writing, then reading, and it's a pretty distant third option. Maybe I could start a large pot of soup and let it simmer so I can say I cooked all day, when I'm really engrossed in words and agonizing over syntax and comma placement (not realistic, if you know me at all). I'll daub some flour on my face for effect.
The muse likes days like this. It's easy to motivate oneself to write, to work on the latest story or novel, when the air is calm and comfortable inside and I can draw energy from the invigorating weather outside the window. And it's a three day weekend! Maybe we'll have three days of crazy weather and I'll finish my entire project...
The only other activity that's mildly entertaining on such a day is cooking, but of course that comes after writing, then reading, and it's a pretty distant third option. Maybe I could start a large pot of soup and let it simmer so I can say I cooked all day, when I'm really engrossed in words and agonizing over syntax and comma placement (not realistic, if you know me at all). I'll daub some flour on my face for effect.
