So I got up the other day, exercised, showered, brushed my teeth, and got dressed with the intent to do some marketing and work on AURA. Feeling all ambitions, I sat down at the computer and realized my work outfit consists of a sweatshirt and my hubby's warmest pajama bottoms and my fuzzy slippers. Ah the life of a writer. Then I got my files opened and started typing and my ball of fur, Gingersnap, decided to come sit basically on me. Normally I'd just send her on her way, but she was so warm and fluffy-
I just couldn't bring myself to do it.
You see, I do most of my serious writing during the winter because, for one, everyone is in school... and, because...well...yeah, mostly because everyone is in school. And I have no yard work. But for some reason my house is freezing cold from November to April. When I think back to writing AQUA, I just remember hours and hours spent at the computer, wrapped like a mummy in layers with a heater blasting my icy feet, and my hands numb with cold. I live in Texas! Why should I ever be cold? So when I'm writing scenes about Marin walking barefoot down the beach or Jaycen feeling the heat of the sun burning his neck as he traverses the post apocalyptic streets of Los Angeles, it's probably my subconscious self projecting me into a warmer climate and wishing for a little hint of spring.