My phone emits a blaring warning: A tornato has been spotted in your mobile area. Take immediate cover.
I go outside to stare at the sky. It’s not windy, not even raining. I check the weather app and news feed: A tornado has touched down twenty kilometres away from our home and is heading toward us.
Yes! I’m going to Oz.
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I secretly love it when the power flicks off during a storm. There’s a click and then a silence as the background hum of the electronics stop. The absence of the sounds makes me realize how much noise a house holds: the refrigerator hum, the rattle of the furnace, and dance of the water pump. The quiet reminds me of summer nights when the cicadas rhythmic strumming abruptly stops and the resulting silence seems conversely loud.
It’s early spring and at 8:35 pm, my power is lost. The weather is predicting to drop to zero overnight but I’m not worried. I build a fire in the wood stove, cracking the door so that the initial wood burns hot and fast, clearing the chimney of the night’s dampness. Then I stack it tight and close the draft so it will simmer all night.
Now I hear the sound of the wind as it bends tree branches and swirls across the windowpanes. It sounds like the rustling of dragon wings. I fumble through the darkness for a candle and match. As the wick catches, a circle of light is cast but unlike our electric bulbs, light from a candle creates spaces between the shadows rather than illuminating them. It’s a perfect time to write about magic, love, and dragons!
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I registered for an online course this year. It started with a 2 day virtual retreat since no one is meeting in person with the pandemic. I was apprehensive about spending two entire days on zoom and with a group of strangers. Craving to learn something new, I signed up. Thanks to the organizers, it turned out to be excellent complete with a scavenger hunt and learning how to make a new cocktail (neither actually related to the content of the course, but side benefits). And I realized how much I missed meeting new people during this past pandemic year.
I would describe myself as an introvert. I need time by myself and when I don’t get it, I get grumpy. And miserable. Most likely this is my subconscious attempt to make people go away so I can get my alone time. I’ve always liked the vision of the solitude author, hidden in a cabin and surrounded by trees and rocks, ideally near a lake, and no one in sight or hearing distance. Somedays, I hold onto that mirage like a thirty person in the desert.
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I invented a new condiment.
I know you’re probably thinking we don’t need a new condiment. After all, we’ve got ketchup, soy sauce, mustard, relish, plum sauce, salsa…is there space in the fridge and on the table for another one?
As a writer, I sometimes wonder if I have anything new to contribute to the book world. Occasionally when I enter a bookstore I have a moment of panic. There are so many books in there and how can I write another one to jostle for space on the shelves? Would anyone even pick up my book if I ever get published?
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I always thought I supported writers by buying their books. Obviously purchasing books does support authors but a recent conversation with a fellow writer made me realize that I could do more. By more, I do not mean by buying more books. Not everyone has a book budget and I read books through a variety of ways other than buying an actual book: library, loans from friends and family and once by finding a book forgotten on a trail.
Maybe the pandemic has got me thinking about all the non-monetary ways we as writers can support other writers. It also made me realize how one person can support another in simple ways. It takes some time and thoughtfulness. As part of a writing community, we should put some time and effort into helping each other.
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Don’t get me wrong. I love summer time. Strangely enough, I especially enjoyed it this year. It became a time to reconnect with friends in outside spaces, to play charades on the driveway under the stars, find new kayak paddles in crystal blue-green water and to weed my flourishing Covid-19 garden.
But I’m kind of exhausted by summer. Like an excellent party – it’s great fun while it lasts but the clean up the next day is daunting. I’m canning my garden bounty (turns out that 40 tomatoes plants are too many), experimenting with a dozen ways to eat zucchini and discovering that not everyone loves cucumbers. Sadly, my writing got shelved during this time of outside merriment.
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Several years ago, I wrote a blog for this site about things I found during a summer day to inspire my writing: https://ascribewriters.com/summer-time-to-be-inspired/ One of the inspirations was a visit to the Keady market and observing the live animal auction. I began to imagine a dragon auction and what it would be like, who would come to such an auction, would it be dangerous? This idea floated in my head and although I loved the idea, I could not fit it into my current fantasy book. It was nothing more than a scene with no characters or plot yet.
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To stay writing inspired during Covid 19 time, I took Lori Twining advice (see her blog, ascribewriters.com/everything-is-cancelled-almost ) and registered for the online Master Class. This was perfect for me as the classes are in short chunks and doesn’t require me to do anything more than listen to a professional author talk about their writing process. I wanted something to keep me inspired to write during this pandemic when it can be hard to focus. The first class I took (David Sedaris) discussed the importance of journal writing. The author uses his daily journal entries as inspirations for his humorous essays.
I’ve never been a daily journal writer in my every day life. But when I travel, I keep a journal. I have notebooks stashed in my closet from my three months solo backpacking trip in Europe in my early twenties and my year of adventure in India and Nepal. Even a week long canoe trip earns a thin, water-stained book. But in my “normal” life, I never thought of journaling about every day events. Mostly because it doesn’t seem like anything exciting happens to write about. But David Sedairs writes in his journal of the small things such as a taxi drive to the airport or a visit to a shop. Nothing dramatic like being taken hostage. On a side note, you should always carry a small notebook with you at all times just in case you are taken hostage so you can journal the experience.
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