The first whiff of storytelling

I smelled it again this morning.

Autumn.  The scent carries on the diesel exhaust of school buses, the dust of summer-seared grass, dew.  Besides the smells, I know it’s autumn because:

  • Attrition (i.e. hungry neighbors) has taken all but the largest garden spiders.
  • The sun has fallen into the treetops by 7:30 in the evening.
  • The first leaf crunches under my heel.
  • I see my breath as I stand on the front porch to kiss my sweetie good-bye on his way to work.
  • We have to wear our don’t-shoot-me-I’m-not-a-deer orange when we go hiking.

Most telling of all, this time of year it becomes easier to sit down at my computer to write.  In the summer, warm breezes waft me away.  That’s changing now. 

I imagine the first stories were told in the quiet of winter, bundled around a fire.  Which in my version of history means the first drafts were contemplated during the rush of caching supplies and battening down the hatches.  My first drafts have that sort of panicked feel to them: Oh God, we’re not going to make it!!!  That’s how I’ll be spending the next few weeks as I draft a proposal for FORGED OF SHADOWS, Book 2 of my Demon Repent series. 

So picture me with a spear in one hand, the gleam of the hunt in my eye, hunger in my belly… and first chapters in my sight.  Grr.

What will you be hunting as the season changes?  What nourishing stores (besides chocolate) have you laid up for the storytelling season ahead?

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5 thoughts on “The first whiff of storytelling

  1. *pets her chocolate stash* Precioussss.

    I’m currently sitting on… absolutely nothing, story-wise. I’m taking some time off from the hunt, but fall/winter have always been my best seasons, writing-wise. I’ll come up with something if I truly want to.

  2. Ah, the fallow season. As vital a stage in the process as growth, I’m told. I usually find myself going dormant around chapter 7. Bog mummies have more life than me in chapter 7. I do not submit to this stage willingly. Rage, rage, is my motto.

    Are you graceful in repose, writing wise?

  3. Eyes bugging out of head. Must type last sentence soon. So close yet so far. Optical illusion / mirage phase setting in where the end looks like it is getting close but the further I walk (write), the less I sleep, the more caffeine I ingest, the further it gets… Of course, it might help if I didn’t keep going back to the day before’s and *fixing* before writing new. Everything can be fixed in rewrites!!

  4. P.S. This is the first summer EVER where I am looking forward to autumn & cooler temps. My office has baked with all our 100 degree days here. The last few have been topping out at 95, so it has been nicer (ha! 95ish is nice!)

  5. The mirage phase! Exactly! To think of the dessicated corpses of aspiring authors who crawled deeper into the desert, thinking, heck, how much farther could it be?

    The vultures didn’t even bother to eat their eyes. Sniff.

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