With fall just around the corner, I am already in the midst of writing two more novels. A long drive up to Sault Ste. Marie gave me the opportunity to complete twelve pages for one of the stories. I find that autumn in general is very inspiring for me as a creative writer. The crisp air. The darker colours found in fashion. The stark, leaf-less trees that create a new setting from the lush, fruitful summer season. I love fall. Yes, I miss the hot summer nights and swims in the lake, but for my mind to burst with inspiring ideas, late September, October, and November are my best friends in the creative realm.
Don’t get me wrong. Other seasons can have inspiring moments, too. There is just something about post summer that gets to me.
It’s odd and sweet how the mind works. Reading fall fashion magazines, with their exquisite editorial pages, also inspires me. I think of the story behind the model wearing the amazing clothes and often eccentric hair and makeup. Also, a lot of commerical fashion ads get my mind spinning. Those Burberry ads with the military coat-clad kids actually inspired an entire story. That is why I love fashion and why I chose to model. Art can be expressed in so many different mediums and I think that models can convey an intriguing personality to clothing. Is the girl wearing the black trench coat and riding boots a tough hunter that enjoys riding her spirited mare through the woods? Or is she a determined career woman that drives a red Porcshe and knows how to kick box? I could go on and on about this. There is something really awesome about a woman wearing neo Civil War getup. I had better stop.
The new condo, which is surrounded by a quaint neighbourhood and many trees, has also aided my writing. My writing room is slightly gothic. Well, okay, it is pretty gothic. It has three black walls with a deep red accent wall. My black keyboard is sitting in the corner. A poster or two of my favourite metal bands hang in there. A clashy lime green lamp sits upon my growing CD collection in delightful contrast. Lastly, my computer sits on the new black desk where I can pour out – line after line – the stories and concepts that have been spinning around in my head for years. Really, a writer could not ask for a cooler room.
Well, I don’t know why I needed to write all of that, but I did.