It Was A Dark & Stormy...Week

During some extremely severe storms, (Cyprus has had enough rain fall in January to cure our drought for two years), I have been inside the home much more than normal. My life is 80% outside living, but the walls protected my from the north wind chills, and I have settled into a routine of writing, rather than writing, walking and sitting in the sun.

After two weeks my brain became stifled. I needed the stimulus of my usual daily pattern and it was not happening. My writing became bland. I felt it deep inside. There were no lifts to the voices of my characters. Inside they were as grey as the weather outside. Elle couldn't paint, she couldn't feel the warm sun on her shoulders, see the sun sparkle off of the sea and she couldn't express herself. The weather had a lot to answer for in its effect on us both.

Two days bloomed into glorious sunshine and we both inhaled the creativity it inspired in us. Elle grabbed her artistic materials and absorbed the glory of a bright, new day. My fingers were worn to the bone with her activities. Many surprises came our way, much sadness and loss. Wow! Reel back. Loss?

Yes, I killed off two characters. The grey weather had brought about a melancholy afternoon of note writing, kicking ideas around and finally forming them. Despite the glorious Spring moments we were now experiencing, I was not in a Spring-like mood. I could not let her have joy while I was surrounded by grey ideas, while I was ready grey words formed on grey days. I sat outside and allowed the warmth of those two days re-activate my mind, but the previous weather period had fed me with a need to burst Elle's bubble when she finally found sunshine-a faint rainbow in her cloud. (We writers can be so cruel).

Shortly after this warm weather spell came the rains again. I was shut inside refusing to look through a window. Elle became quiet. I became anxious. The weather was taking its toll. So one afternoon I pulled all curtains shut, turned up the heating and took myself back to the previous summer. I pretended my curtains were shading me from sunshine. Then bam! Elle was off again. She too felt the warmth and ambled along into an incredible discovery. Her life turned around and she showed me a new path to follow. One which has taken the novel off on a different angle to the one I thought I had planned.

How incredible the weather could have such a startling effect on us both. Writing is not just about words, it is about feelings, emotions and giving a character personality. It is about the writer using their surroundings as stimuli. It is about unity between author and muse.

Does the weather ever have and affect on your work?