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RoE.d1.day55 – i wrote slower when i’m warmer

you might recall me saying something recently about how much i like it when the ‘world’ interacts with the characters. included in such kinds of ‘interactions’ would be , as a purely un-hypothetical, running out of oil overnight.

like happened to us on monday morning. ah, the joys of home ownership.

we’re fine, obviously. the wood stove kept the house warm yesterday and the oil arrived today, but this evening, while we finished thawing the house out after we getting home from school, i tried to finish the last page of the day’s writing and found that as the house got warmer, i had a harder and harder time putting the words together.*

i was then reminded of how much i hate writing in the summer. all that heat and humidity and blech-ness** and just wanting Fall to come. then i realized that it’s only february and i’m worrying about the heat in august.

i think that makes me a new englander.

*okay, how’s that for a ridiculous sentence? my stories aren’t like that, trust me. well, not most of them.

** yes, blech-ness.

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