Writing for the seasons.

But I don't do mists and mellow fruitfulness!

As you know, I like to write books where the sun shines. I'm very loud about that. Except that the one I have just turned into to the publisher has snow in it. (That last sentence has to be said in a hushed amazed whisper, by the way.) It's a Christmas novella so it's not really surprising that there might be some snow, even if I had to make it a freak blizzard in the Brecon Beacons - one of the super powers of being a writer is to control the weather. If it makes it thorough the publisher's reading panel - fingers crossed, it will be out for - drum roll - Christmas!!!

Of course, once a writer has a book off the runway they are usually thinking about the next one. As you know, if you have been paying attention, and if I've remembered to tell you, I have two new romantic suspense books half written, so the logical thing would be to finish one of them. But when did logic have anything to do with it? I took  an extract from one of them, the one with the highest body count, actually, (5 by the first page) to a workshop with the lovely ladies of the Marcher Chapter of the Romantic Novelists' Association and they made some helpful and encouraging  comments and generally gave it the thumbs up (I didn't mention the bodies.) so I could get going on that one, but I have another idea gnawing away, and I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to get rid of the little blighter, and horror of horrors, it's trying to set itself in Wales in the autumn. Which is not a recipe for sunshine. Although I am toying with the idea of a St Luke's Summer*. Got to get  my fix somehow.

But where is it coming from? I do not like autumn. I have a problem with September especially, for personal reasons, but nothing of the season particularly appeals. So why is the book insisting on it? I have no idea. It just seems to fit the atmosphere of the book. At the moment it has a Beauty and the Beast theme, with a house that has wandered in from Portmeirion in North Wales and an overgrown garden that has some big surprises under the weeds and brambles. And some spooky ghostly stuff. Will it go any further, or will it wander off to the back burner and wait its turn, letting me get back to the two half written ones, both of which are set in the summer.

We shall see.


*St Luke's summer is good weather around 18th October. I have to thank Suzette Hill for that little gem which, like a good little author,  I squirreled away for future use - like getting ambushed by autumn setting books.