Fall in New England is one of my favorite seasons. I've lived in New England most of my life, but never tire of the variety this season brings to us.
Recently, I rode with a business colleague through New Hampshire and Vermont. It was Columbus Day, sometimes celebrated as a holiday in the United States, and often touted as a great weekend for viewing foliage. Well, in most years, you won't see much but bare trees in Northern New England by the time that weekend rolls around. Happily, this year was an exception. We had copious amounts of rain in the Spring and enough during the summer so that the foliage this year is rich in colors of gold, harvest brown, and pumpkin orange, and many shades in between. Smoke from wood fireplaces drifts in the air, stirring ancient urges to gather around the warmth. As the temperature drops, we develop a taste for hearty meals such as stews, curries, and ragouts, washed down by mugs of hot cider, cocoa and pints of auburn ale.
Frost warnings permeate the weather forecasts, but often the days are still warm enough to enjoy our favorite outdoor activities, be it tossing a football, riding a bike, hiking a trail or walking with your pet.
For a writer, autumn presents backgrounds that tickle the senses, but the season also works as a metaphor for the passing of years and the progression toward mortality. I've included scenes of Fall in my novels and the nip in the air, variegated colors of leafy canopies and harvest aromas can transport the reader directly to that destination, bringing it alive.
As a reader, how to you react to seasons in writing? Do authors draw you in with the vivid descriptions of the change that Autumn or Winter brings? Or is there a hidden terror in these periodic changes of life and its rhythms?
If you are a writer or another type of artist, how important are the seasons in your work? Do they inspire you? Do they transport your characters to new realizations or spiritual yearnings? Let's talk about the seasons and how they affect your art.
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Comments: 325
The Grand Panjandrum at work just brought us two pies -- apple and an incredibly gorgeous coconut cream.
*sniffle
I am SO going to miss working here in Fat City ... ;)
So the seasons play a part in my writing.
A good discussion topic, James.
I blame this on the Simon & Garfunkel songs of my youth (I Am A Rock, Hazy Shade of Winter) and the fact that I grew up on a farm, so summers were spent working. Winter was when you could sit down with at a typewriter (remember those?) and write.
I like the forced intimacy of winter, and I have always wanted to write a "snowbound cabin" murder mystery. Maybe that will be my Nano project ...
You'll find, Laurie, that we are in the minority.
*snork
I've used the seasons in my writing. I tend more towards metaphors of the seasons.
I think seasons can serve as a great plot device as well. For example, winter usually ends up being a time when protagonists are thrown together and unable to avoid each other due to being snowed in. Summer allows for people to be carefree and happy, and fall usually signifies some sort of transition - or parting.
As a New Englander, I grew up in a region where seasons are distinct. I'd agree with the other wombats who use the seasons as a metaphor. As the chill winds of autumn blow and leaves flee to the ground, who can fail to see the somber mood?
Judi, I like the fish tail!
Seasons...I had a book, two in the series, actually, where the changing seasons were really important. The one that's being published, not so much: I tried to pick a pretty neutral time of year for the main location of the book. The WIP, it's hot. The whole way through, just super hot.
Me, I'm a So. Cal. native. Contrary to popular belief, we do have seasons here, but they are strange.
How 'bout them Phillies????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Author Magazine
I had a fabulous fall day even though it drizzled on me throughout the entire hour and half cemetary tour and I now look like a deranged poodle. Yes, my normally straight hair can look like a bad perm.
Cool new covers, Judi. Very attractive.
I love the change of seasons. I never feel that fall or winter mean death or a slowdown or any of those metaphors we sometimes see. I find such beauty in the changes that any change reminds me of life and the glories of its variety.
Ken, can you repeat your suggestion for a contest on this thread. I'm afraid I'm not exactly sure what you proposed.
Beaker, was the end of the day any better for you? Maybe the rest of the week will be outstanding.
Pat & Mike, did you guys fall off the wombat radar?
Normally, I love autumn, James, but so far this autumn has been anything but normal. Too blasted cold too soon. Though we're in line for a warm up this week, we started with 27 degrees on Monday morning.
Ken, lost the gist of what you meant about the first paragraph contest. Were you thinking of using the folks who submitted existing paragraphs on Nathan's blog as the contestants, or suggesting a new contest?
Jamie, did I miss the reason you were touring a cemetary?
We had an all college inservice today. A motivational speaker, a depression-causing speaker and one session of our choice. I wanted something that would get me outdoors. That equaled a cemetary tour by a local historian. He knew a lot about symbology of headstones. Quite interesting. The constant drizzle. Just ick!
For my own opinion about a first paragraph...the only thing really necessary is that it be flawless. I don't think you need a cute hook (in fact, after reading many, I got real tired of trite cleverness) and I don't think you need to write your whole book in one paragraph. It should gently lead you to the desire to read paragraph 2, that's it. Feel free to argue with me.
unbelievable.
I, personally, think it's a lovely picture and the background is fine. Shows off that great color on you!
Other times I don't really even pay attention to the season, at least not consciously.
Anyway, it's lullaby land for me. Night, all.
I still have it today. Now I use it to combat the paperguy at 4am. Clumpity-clump-clump he comes down the street tossing newspapers on driveways and front walks.
How it fits in my writing? Usually event driven like a holiday party or weather. One story saw the trajectory of the romance follow the seasons with Spring being an epiphany in many ways. I should have a reread of it, Freefall was psychologically intense.
Icky neighbor stories. When my darling neighbors got a pound dog that went wild at 5 am every morning I thought I'd reached the end of my rope. Thankfully, he got better. I guess a mostly blind dog thrown into a new situation is going to need some adjusting time.
You'd be amazed at how cranky passport photo people can be. Looks cute Jill.
I've come up with an idea for my phantasmorgia entry, but it still needs to spin around my head a bit longer before I write it. Er... unless I'm lying and have already sent my entry to Vivian. Yeah, that's the ticket.
You can sell just titles now? We don't have to write the supporting 90k words?
Lurve the new icon Jill!
Go Beth, go Beth!
I don't so much hate winter as I dislike snow and non-existent daylight hours. The last couple of years we've gotten a butt load of snow. Blank stare. I hate snow.
Seasons play into my plots. One I need them to be cut off and stuck together.. winter blizzard season anyone? Escape had to be in the Spring, so the passes would be open and the desert not too hot. The other two happened when they happened, no fore thought, other than not wanting to deal with Christmas.
DD and gang just left after a very high energy visit. I'm wiped. At dinner we had steamed veggies. Broccoli and cauliflower among them, which PP calls, 'clouds and trees'. She commented that her cloud didn't taste very good. Her mother disagreed saying they were the best. Kylei listened and then asked for more trees, please. lol
Off with me.
Jill, love the new icon!
Winter? Bah humbug! It would be fine if I didn't have to feed critters and carry water. Okay, I'll admit I do like to snuggle up and watch the snow come down. I try not to think about having to go out in said snow later...
Lisa, I'm in a smakin' mood again tonight. Hand me a glass of wine, please, make a double.
Okay, my blog is up. Actually, I really like my blogger, Anna Campbell. She talks about writing groups and support. I mention my own beloved Wombats.
It Takes a Village to Write a Book!
I knew it had taken Anna some time to get published, but had no idea how long. Her topic struck a cord with me; how alone a new writer can feel without support, encouragement, and feedback from other writers.
talk about how no writer is an island. The title is a slight exaggeration – if the village is going to write this book for me, I wish it would turn up a bit more often and take over the hard work! But nonetheless, it’s not that much of an exaggeration.
I spent many, many years unpublished. And for a lot of that time, I was completely on my own. I didn’t know anyone writing romance. Heck, I hardly knew anyone who even read romance! So I spent a lot of time reinventing the wheel or going off on completely false tangents.
Then around 2000, I joined Romance Writers of Australia and suddenly I wasn’t Robinson Crusoe anymore! And what an amazing feeling that was.
do you belong to a writing organization or group? How have you benefited? What would be the one piece of advice you gave an aspiring writer?
Got anything for wanting to add kicking to the equation? lol! Family, you gotta love 'em.
Hope everyone has a happy hump day full of joyous humping or whatever. (I should probably delete that, huh?) Oh vell.
Sia, I hope the wine helped.
Wendy, how are you feeling? I'm hoping today's a sleep-in day for you and that when you get up you're full of rarin'-to-go and good health.
Have fun today, Jamie.
Actually, trying to finish up something before NaNo so I can actually try NaNo again this year.
I take this as more proof that we're living in an odd world.
Dr. FAE Invades China
I'm guessing I just don't have some doohickey turned on that will allow me to see Chinese characters.
Let us know how the humor translates.
我们先向大家介绍我们的新博客作者Fred A. Engleberry博士(FAE博士)，他持有 Muckton Institute of Talknology
You're killin' me here. My sides ache!
例如：现在的运作频率是多少？
Are you kiddin' me?
Holy &*&*#^. You gotta get on the Tonight Show with this stuff.
你的
Actually, that might be a useful set of characters...is there a brief way to say "the following is very silly"...something like a spew alert? It might clue our Asian friends to the goofy nonsense of these posts.
下面是一点玩笑的
And in all seriousness I would check that with an actual Chinese speaker before using.
I think engineers have a very similar sense of humor. I'm thinking it will do just fine Ken. And yes I do recall your aversion for work. I beg your forgiveness.
Beth, I'm getting there. This stoopid cough doesn't want to break. I'm on antibiotics so hopefully that will bring me back to something close to normal soon. bleck
As the Cats Turn
The kids brought the cats up yesterday. Without carriers. Shakes my head. Oliver was too thrilled to be 'home'. Though the staying outside stuff has him confused. HRH is not happy.
Their kitten, Hyde immediately sought safety in the garage attic. My hugely pregnant daughter went up there to get him. Oh yes she did. The poor kitty is very confused.
Mean while Marshall's cat is not liking the invasion one little bit. He's been put outside too. I'm thinking he will need his own food and water because the usurpers are not to be borne. Much hissing and growling was exchanged at the pet door in the garage. Roll my eyes.
Brooke and Macy are intrigued by the new cat, but he won't let them get close enough to say hello. Macy in particular was happy to see Oliver. She mothered him when he was a wee kitty.
Diva kitty? Well she was completely put upon until she noted they were outside. Such a deal.
After all of that commotion I had trouble getting to sleep. At 2:30 I finally got up and my son was baking Toll House cookie bars. There had been some muffled banging, this explained it. He saw a commercial for cookies and well. ROFL He hand mixed them too, so he wouldn't disturb his father or I. Such a nice boy. Then he drank all but a dribble of milk. A wee cup of coffee for me this morning.
Oi vey! Off for some R&R. This afternoon I'm supposed to help DD pack some for the move.
Thought~Byte No. 173
and
Thought~Byte No. 174
I is tired. I need my phototherapy lamp.
The "camp" site is gorgeous, just abreast of a large pond and loaded with ballfields, tennis and basketball courts and many other distractions. Just before snacktime and heading to the cabins, half of the overall group participated in line dancing, which included a part where the adults got to lead on "doing the hokey pokey." You'd think the kids would be worn out by all this activity, but they chit chattered away until about 11:30.
While the lights were still on, I played guitar and tried to calm down the guys down in our cabin with acoustic rock music from the Allmans, Led Zep, ELP and the like. And it did seem to help. :-)
The other chaperone got to talk to the kids in the loud room after lights off, since his son was part of that group. My own son and his buddies drifted off to sleep earlier. Then, surprise, surprise, the chaperones got up a half hour before the kids in the morning. We did manage to get the kids up in time for their 8:00 breakfast.
After all of that, driving off to work felt like the easy part of the day.
They corrected the copy on Amazon -- well, part of it. Still says "Uighur" instead of "a Uighur." I'll give 'em a few more days on that.
And the price has dropped 34%
This won't mean anything to anyone but me, but we finally arrived at a print-ready version of Ilana Mercer's collection of columns and it will be available very soon. I hate to think of how many hours of work this was, but we did it.
Fernanda 'Naima' Yazbek
Jaime: boo on nasty cold 4 letter words. It's 66 here but cool and rain on the way. But better than snow.
Wendy, the population at your house seems to be on the increase.
Must bone up on baby delivering, just in case. *rolling the yes. Darling niece had better not be doing the blink and baby thing. I'd much prefer the hospital thingie to having to do delivering. She's worried about the ice storms in November. I told her, hey, an ambulance can get through and even if they can't, they're paramedics and babies can be born in an ambulance just fine. She's 8 months and baby is in position.
Been working. I'm tired. I'm going to take a nap.
DB: There isn't anything better than homemade noodles.
Mrs. ACA: I used to steal them when they were drying.
KLC: How hard can it be? They're just flour and salt and egg and butter, maybe. Hell, I'll make them.
Mrs. ACA: It's not as easy as it sounds.
KLC: Nonsense. I'll just get out the Amish Cookbook.
Mrs. ACA: That book is a tourist trash. It's not real.
KLC: What? I bought it from a real Amish girl, what are you talking about?
Mrs. ACA: The book is terrible.
KLC: She had the accent and the bonnet. I gotta get one of those bonnets for you.
Mrs. ACA: Shut up.
KLC: Okay, I'll just look up the recipe for making noodles...huh, there's no entry. Okay, here's Turkey Noodle Encore, that will have a noodle recipe.
Mrs. ACA: Right.
KLC: Here's what it says: Cook noodles as directed on package. WTF?
Mrs. ACA: You never listen to me. That book is a fake they sell to tourists.
KLC: Well, I still like the bonnet.
Mrs. ACA: Shut up.
To get to my (roundabout) point, if any of the ladies in PA can get me a real Amish cookbook with a noodle recipe, I would appreciate it. New, used, or something you've been planning to take to Goodwill, I don't care. E-mail me and we'll make a deal.
In a good way. :)
Homemade Pasta Noodles:
2 eggs (scramble with a fork)
half tsp. salt
Add in:
2 cups of flour
3-4 tbsp. rich cream (I use 18% table cream) + water, as needed
Mix with a wooden spoon and add liquid to moisten flour until a dough ball forms. Knead until light and smooth.
Roll out on a floured board and keep working and rolling dough (adding flour) until it is no longer sticky.
Roll out dough until it is quit thin because it puffs up when cooking.
Cut your noodles with a knife or a pizza wheel. A pizza wheel saves time and is much easier.
Don't know if it's Amish, but it is noodles.
TIP: invest in a Kitchen Aid stand mixer with the pasta roller attachment and you may wonder why you buy box pasta again. Christmas dinner is homemade filled pasta.
Viv, the in-laws had a pasta roller thingie in the kitchen. Dad swore by it.
The treadmill is trying to kill me. Just sayin'.... I wonder if my life insurance policy covers death by excessive sweating.
Busy day but got lots done. Even got in a kick-butt yoga class. Unfortunately, I followed that with an hour-and-forty-minute drive in the car--yes, another airport run. Now I'm stiff and sore. So I'll see y'all after dinner and a bath.
It was the missing Chinese spew alert that threw me, Ken.
My wife and I are empty nesters until Friday. This is going to be different. We expect a very tired child to join us on Friday.
Predictably, the Saturday forecast is for rain and lots of it. It's a day of green celebrations worldwide, but in the Northeast, nature will be raining on the parade. I'm thinking I'll take the train to B-town for the book fest anyway.
I enjoy it when a writer can bring vivid descriptions of the seasons that bring them alive without using run of the mill terms. It truly makes a difference in the story.
Great article.
I am NEVER moving again. With what I've spent on books, I probably could have financed at least seven trips to Europe. I'm talking luxury trips -- castles with butlers, waltzing in Vienna, several trips on the Orient Express, and meeting Queenie (or should that be Queen E?) for tea.
Sheesh!
The homemade noodles sound great. I come from a farm family that was historically PA Dutch (we were the worldly Lutherans), and we always used packaged noodles. Of course, Mom was a teacher, so she didn't have a lot of time ... still, if you don't want to make noodles, you can always use rivels. (That's the mixture for the noodles rolled up in tiny balls and cooked with whatever.) I used to have a great recipe for Chicken Corn Soup with Rivels, but I think it went the way of the dinosaurs.
Back to playing God with my books. (Some will live, some will die ...)
Like Zeus, I cast thunderbolts(grades) from above, approach Mt. Olympus with care. The benevolent god graded your work, the re-grader, not so much.
Speaking of work, back on my head.
This is not a joke. See the Inquirer.
Probably Jill.
Enjoy the brief reprieve James, and the preview of the future.
Back to studies. I am holding back all my writing goodness for Nano. Speaking of writing, where art thou Phantasmagoria entries, mes amis? I guess I should be practicing Spanish - mis amigos.
I HAVE to get it done before Nano and it's just 10 days away.
Sean thought I was a wuss for collapsing in a puddle of sweat after my "hour on the treadmill with handweights" workout. So he went downstairs to show his mom up by completing my workout all manly like, you know. After about 30 minutes, he starts yelling for me. The way he was yelling, I thought he broke his leg or something. No. He wants me to bring him a towel. He's already shed his shirt and soaked through his sweatpants, and can't see through the sweat in his eyes. HAH! Your mom isn't such a wimp afterall, is she, kid? He, of course, had to do an extra 10 minutes so he didn't look unmanly, but hey, if that gets him out of his computer chair, he can show me up, any day.
Are you currently packing your books for your move, Laurie?
Back to trying to force the proper words into the end of this $%&*$ing novel.
Yes, packing books for my move. Sigh.
Or, in this case, NOT packing my books, but sitting in front of the computer pretending to do many things -- a social media audit for my boss, packing, a chilling tale for Vivian, packing, playing Bejeweled Blitz, packing ... well, you see where this is going.
*cracks the whip
Back to work. Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh.
You multitask like I multitask. You're obviously a very talented and intelligent woman.