Meredith Holmes on Summer

Today and Tomorrow, Meredith Holmes visits Writer Tamago. I’m over at Heather Ingemar’s place. See you there!

It’s summer in Southeast Texas. At the best of times, this means heat–the kind that makes it difficult to walk barefoot outside, even on grass, that makes cicadas rattle in the trees and sends even the hardiest of dogs inside, away from the fences and towards the nice, cool kitchen floor. Right now, though, we’re in a drought (rumor has it that that will be relieved soon, but no one is sure if it will be a lasting relief or just a tease of better weather, cooler temperatures). In July, we usually don’t experience things like weeks of 100 degree or higher heat but this month (and last) has been exceptionally Hellish. I told myself it’d be the perfect opportunity to sit inside, to write, but with the heat came lack of inspiration. I have two manuscripts to send in, one I’m feeling strong about and another which I am holding off on sending until I can get another beta-reader to look over it. Perfect, I thought–the heat will keep BICHOK (butt in chair, hands on keys for the uninitiated…). I’m wrong. The heat seeps through the windows, through blinds and curtains, sunshiny rays sapping my creativity and inspiring only naps, as if I were a giant cat (who knows? I might be… I’ve never been tested).

Two very good reviews, one for Widow’s Walk and one for Unseelie have given me a shot in the arm and I’m re-editing Wild Hunt (the sequel to Unseelie ) and a super secret demon novel to submit asap, hopefully by the end of next week, but the summer is still draining. The ice cream trucks, which came in midday and early evening when I was a child, seems to only come between 8 and 9 pm now, avoiding the worst of the heat and taking advantage of the summer twilight that seems to stretch forever. I sit here at the computer and wonder why I never suffered from lack of inspiration when I was younger. The heat would lead me to run outside in my grandparents’ backyard, play baseball (my own rules, of course), try to climb trees, drink from the hose–never caring that it was 100 degrees or a drought. Is it growing up that takes away summer creativity and magic? Is it a lack of drive? Or is it maybe the heat this year is special, magical in its own way, making us rest and stay inside, keep from racing on the melting asphalt and laughing with the cicadas under the blazing sun? The summer is going by so quickly that maybe it is trying to make itself last a bit longer, keep autumn a distant dream and push away all ideas of cool, damp weather, of turning leaves and early darkness. Maybe we’re meant to cocoon inside, make the days last against the winter and wetness. Or maybe, just maybe, my creativity is sapped by the heat and there’s nothing magical to it at all, just blessed air conditioning and a body that can’t climb trees anymore.

Author: Catherine Schaff-Stump

Catherine Schaff-Stump writes fiction for children and young adults. Her most recent book, The Vessel of Ra, is the first book in the Klaereon Scroll series. She is currently working on its sequel, as well as penning the middle grade adventures of Abigail Rath, monster hunter. View all posts by Catherine Schaff-Stump