I've been quiet the past few days. I've been hunting down writer chatrooms and more helpful writer links to post. I've been enjoying the lovely rainy weather, and the snap of fall creeping up on us. Actually it's more like falling on us like a rain slicker, bringing its yellow leaves, chilly mornings, and earthy smells with it. I love Fall.
Since I discovered the chatrooms on the Forward Motion forum, the other authors there have stirred me up. I've been thinking of the reason why I love my genre, and most of all, my subject matter.
My story is like the Fall, it was written in the Fall, and it takes place in the late Fall/early Winter. Fall is change, it is inspiration, it is Summer's last triumph before the winter chill sets in. It's the start of a school year, the end of lazy hot days, the time when you have to pull your bootstraps up.
People get down to business in the Fall. They have to, because Winter takes no prisoners - at least that's the way it used to be. Now, we have grocery stores and online shopping, but we still have snow and nasty weather. We still feel like we have to pull our bootstraps up. There's something about the Fall that feels old, timeless, like we haven't shaken off the instincts that have kept us alive so long. Even with all our advancements, our technology, the seasons still hold sway at the core of us.
Fall is a time of preparation. It's a time of getting ready. Living in the midwest, in farmland, I understand this well. Farmers gather crops they've watched grow through the Summer, and we celebrate with festivals to eat what they've gathered. It's harvest-time, and there's this tingle of excitement in the air. There's an impulse to be busy. We don't have much time.
My story feels like this too. Lividia doesn't have much time. Winter is coming, the cold seeping into her big, stone house and whistling down the hallways. She's female in a Victorian man's world, but she's more than that. Soon she discovers just how much more. Suddenly her world doesn't hold as much appeal, her family has grown too small for her, and there's so much beyond that she needs to discover, or she just can't be happy.
Change. Lividia's on the cusp of something great, and even I can feel it.