Lughnasa Waxing Harvest Moon
When the storm clouds rolled in on Tuesday, I went into a writing place almost immediately. My novel bones got itchy, wanted to scratch out a new book. Fall, as it gets darker and grimmer, colder somehow turns a creative crank, my engine sputters to life.
Life’s richness right now jolts me, makes me feel able. This is not a constant feeling, so I like to ride it when it arrives. How to work a novel’s discipline into my days? As the garden winds down, those hours can go for writing. I could write at night, after working out. I have the juice later in the day and early in the morning.
Maybe the next stormy day I’ll get started.