They predict a storm this weekend. The forecast calls for precipitation, freezing rain, sleet, and snow with projected accumulations of 2 to 4 inches, and I am expecting them to add hail, tornados, thundersnow, flooding, high winds, and streets covered with ice to the line-up. I am waiting for locusts, snowmageddon, and the four horsemen. It is 2020, after all.
I drive home, racing past packed grocery store parking lots without stopping. At my house, a full freezer, a stocked pantry, and the aroma of a simmering crockpot greet me. I have plans, and the impending assault helps set the mood as a dense fog obscures the view from my window, and a misty drizzle falls.
I have scheduled a long writing session, and the inclement conditions suit me. My characters are on the run, fleeing their evil tormentors. Biting wind gusts blow fallen leaves into their path. Tree limbs crack like whips, and lightning scratches angry marks across the midnight sky. Bram Stoker trembles in his grave as the pursuers gain on our intrepid heroes.
Temperatures plummet, the torrent solidifies, snowflakes fall, sticking to every surface. Jon Snow adjusts his Night Watchman cloak. Winter is coming. Can my protagonists escape? Will hunters captured them, or do they succumb, becoming victims of the elements? There is no way to foretell the tempest’s fury.
Does the weather influence your work?
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer