Writers don’t get to dance around the Maypole because we’re stuck inside our writing worlds, honing our craft. Maybe that’s a deficit we should address. I know for me when the weather gets warmer and there’s sun (Hoorah!), I gravitate to more outdoor things, which means writing goes by the wayside.
For example, up until right now as I’m writing this post, I’ve written not a single word of fiction since last Saturday when I wrote my contest story for the Short Story Challenge. (Yes, I’ve done two other blog posts this week for Unexpected Paths and Politics Wednesday, but neither of those is fiction.) Some of the distractions have been fun, outdoorsy things; others have been chores and errands, ranging from doctor appointments to having to have work done on both cars, and other things in between.
For somewhat of a compromise, I often move the laptop onto my screened-in porch. That way I can somewhat bask in the sunshine, listen to the birds, and take in my great view. As soon as I deal with household obligations (Kitchens do need to be cleaned on occasion, especially when both sinks get full of dirty dishes.), I’ll make that move.
So, I put this post aside to look at the Friday Fictioneers photo prompt for this week, and, lo and behold, some fiction escaped my brain. The picture is idyllic and peaceful, so, of course, I went for the dark and deadly. It may take the entire summer to bake a winter’s worth of darkness from my brain. The title of my story, “Rising Tides Are What They Are,” comes from a Rachel Carson quote, and, as usual, if you don’t see the link on the story title above, scroll to the top of the page, click on the Friday Fictioneers link, and select the story from the drop-down list.