When I thought about how the weather affected my writing, I had to scratch my brain a bit to come up with something. Then I went to my journal and thumbed through a few entries. What I found was I become more prolific on either really stormy days (usually about day three) or on really sunny, sparkly days. And I know this because I have pages that remark on exactly these weather conditions.
I did discover that any settings I write about during those wintery times have a lot of clouds and windy electrifying scenes. Here's some wintery day writing.
The first time Marian met Justin Kane, he stood at the center of the burned out lot, making notes on a yellow legal pad while trying to stay dry under his oversized black umbrella. The unexpected September rain had started early that morning and gave no sign of stopping. Now with thunder promising an electric sky, the wind picked up and whipped at her jacket, blowing sharp, cold drops against her cheeks.
There are several summer notes that involve toasty park benches with fountains playing in the background.
The sun hung in the window, filtering light through the old glass and tinting everything amber inside the kitchen. Outside the fountain sprinkled into the pond, teasing fish to the surface.
I did discover that any settings I write about during those wintery times have a lot of clouds and windy electrifying scenes. Here's some wintery day writing.
The first time Marian met Justin Kane, he stood at the center of the burned out lot, making notes on a yellow legal pad while trying to stay dry under his oversized black umbrella. The unexpected September rain had started early that morning and gave no sign of stopping. Now with thunder promising an electric sky, the wind picked up and whipped at her jacket, blowing sharp, cold drops against her cheeks.
There are several summer notes that involve toasty park benches with fountains playing in the background.
The sun hung in the window, filtering light through the old glass and tinting everything amber inside the kitchen. Outside the fountain sprinkled into the pond, teasing fish to the surface.
Since I like to write in different locations, when the rain keeps me inside I often roam to different rooms with a clipboard. I do this roaming after I put in a morning (between 4 and 8 is my usual stint) at my desk, pounding on my computer keys. Those spring and summer days allow me to be in the garden or on a hike with my journal tucked into my backpack. I can always spot entries I’ve made outside. They’re smudged with dirt and sometimes a leaf falls out when I flip the page--a small token of a day I’ve lived and written about.
One other thing I discovered, thanks to having thought about weather and writing at the same time, is that I’ve made so many notes about the sounds and textures of what I’m surrounded by, that I have tons of weather to include in almost any book I write that takes place above ground level.
I keep thinking that Poe must have had a lot of bad weather. Dicken’s, too. I mean all of that snow and British fog had to have some effect on those stories. I’ll bet Miss Haversham wouldn’t have lived in that dark house with the moldy wedding feast if Dicken’s had written his story in, say, Hawaii.
How about the rest of you? Does weather affect your characters and your setting? Ever thought about it?
