This week: Between SeasonsEdited by: Snow Vampire
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We are in in-between seasons.
The winter solstice is past,
and the spring equinox approaches.
We are in-between seasons.
The days grow longer,
and the nights shorter.
We are in-between seasons.
The short days and long nights
affect some of us more than others.
Do the short dim days of winter affect your writing? Does winter cause your mood to descend into the brown study of depression? Do you find yourself doubting your ability or your ideas? Do you find yourself encountering more distractions that cause you to procrastinate when you are depressed? I can answer yes to all of those questions.
Fortunately, the winter solstice has passed, and the days are getting longer. The approach of the vernal equinox, at least in the Norther Hemisphere, renews hope. It does not, however, answer the question "How do I overcome winter blues?" This is a question I have been attempting to answer for several years. The only way I have found to overcome the winter blues, is to write through it.
If winter causes your depression try to write about another season when the winter blues occurs. Describe a spring scene or a summer scene, from the point of view of a character in you latest story. You can describe the scene from the point of view of the antagonist or protagonist, and let each description focus on a different seasonal characteristic. The wonderful thing about seasons is that each individual will have a different memory of the season.
How do you overcome the winter blues? Do you write through the darkness? Do you take a break from writing to meditate or take a walk? Do you make yourself a cup of hot chocolate to brighten your winter day? Do you fix yourself a bowl of comfort soup (any type of soup, you consider comfort food)? Do you lay your writing aside for a few minutes, so that you can read or review? Does your method of overcoming the winter blues help you get back to writing?
Excerpt: At the rim of a canyon on a moon we call Titan, with parent Saturn
looming majestically on high, in the diffuse yellow light
provided by that eons-old star known as Sol and
scattered by Titan’s methane-thin atmosphere,
the Alpha Lights made their stand.
Excerpt: However athletic and fit Garic may have been at sixteen years of age, at a trim 6'-1" his long legs and lungs burned nearing the end of absolute endurance in an all out sprint across the meadow towards a low wall and a tree growing just beyond before a large black wolf in hot pursuit overtook him. Chancing a glance behind was a mistake for when he saw how little of his lead remained; it opened a crack and allowed fear and doubt to slither their way into his mind. Don't go there, you'll make it.
Excerpt: In the dawn of time Orthano, the Maker, decreed gifts to the Angels, Mankind and the Dwarves. To the Angels came immortality. They were the least populous of the higher creatures and they married rarely, so it was fitting that they live forever.
Excerpt: This was long before any could have known. Long before humanity entirely. Long before life. The wind was howling and throwing things about. Then came the clouds and growled at him with anger:
Excerpt: Linzie is the man on the moon’s wife,
She loves her magic wand that’s blue and purple,
She turns the moon blue, red or other colors with it.
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