Weather Influences My Writing

My mother-in-law was born and raised in Iowa. Every time she sends us a letter the first paragraph typically depicts the local weather. I’ve always attributed her preoccupation with weather to her small farming town’s dependence on agriculture. I never felt I was affected much by weather until today, when I realized the weather holds symbolism for me and my writing.

It was dark, rainy and windy this morning in Denver. I was in a bad mood. I felt overwhelmed by all I had to accomplish. Maybe I should query an agent today I mused. Thunder clapped over my head. I jumped. Nah, I thought, I might get a rejection and it will feel just like that thunder. I looked at the dark clouds dropping rain on my patio and thought about the solitude of being a writer, no team meetings, little collaboration, it’s a lonely job. I muddled through the tasks on my list for a few hours. The rain and clouds passed. I took a break and went outside with the dog. I held the dog’s leash in one hand, and my hood in the other. The sun may have come out, but the wind was as strong as it had been earlier and I was walking against it. My sunglasses provided as much protection from blowing debris as they did from the sun. The wind reminded me of all the other commitments going on in life that push me away from my writing. Other responsibilities like laundry, dishes, and bills to pay compete for my writing time.

I thought about the sun, too. For me it represents inspiration. The wealth of ideas and possibilities available to me as a writer. It also stands for the freedom to be my own boss, to be in charge of what I want to write.

My mother-in-law has an obvious excuse for her fascination with the weather. I can’t explain why I’m prone to weather analogies, but obviously I am. Did I mention my first book is titled, The Family Secret - A Rainy Day?

"Pray don't talk to me about the weather, Mr. Worthing. Whenever people talk to me about the weather, I always feel quite certain that they mean something else. And that makes me so nervous."

- Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest, Act 1