It’s the time of year where writers are almost done preparing (if they prepare at all) for NaNoWriMo, and I, having done it last year, know what it’s like and I’m not calling them crazy (though perhaps some of them have mixed up priorities). But school prevents me from doing it this year too.
My stories are seasonal, by which I mean the season during which I write creeps into the story itself, and then afterwards I associate the season with the story during which I wrote it. Lily’s story is winter through May, and all of September. Rose-Tinted Arrows is unquestionably summer. I wrote the first half of the first book, which is a complete story in itself, between May and August, you see, and anyway something about Robin Hood is hard to separate from summer. Wind Age is the exception, being mainly autumn, even though I wrote it from the end of winter through July.
This time of year, when the harvest is slowing down and the nights are cold (or colder, anyway) and fields are brown instead of green and gold, when people start preparing for winter in earnest, and some of us begin to think about Advent, I remember Of the North.
Since I’m not doing NaNo, during November I’m going to be writing about the novel I wrote for it a year ago. Fair enough? Do the seasons affect your work as they tend to do mine?