Falling Leaves and Word Sprints

by Catherine Dilts

Why am I surprised every fall when my schedule suddenly fills? It happens this way year after year.

The leaves turn color. They slip gracefully from branches swiftly going bare. My farmer brain completes the backyard garden harvest in preparation for holing up for the long winter.

Instead, activities clutter the calendar. Holiday events and gatherings.

So many birthdays. What was in the water nine months prior that our kids and grandkids all have fall and winter birthdays? Even my husband is a November baby.

Part of me longs for peace and quiet. Leave me alone so I can hide from the declining sunlight. I just want to read good books and, hopefully, write good stories. Until the sun comes back. (I have a mild propensity for SAD – Seasonal Affective Disorder.)

Although part of me wants to hibernate, I am not seriously pursuing that option. My co-author and I have ambitious plans for a brand-new series. Book one will release - God willing and the creek don’t rise – this December. The entire series is outlined. Writing each installment according to plan will be daunting, but possible.

If that were all we were doing, I would not feel stressed. But books three and four of my Rose Creek Mystery series are in the works. Coming soon! Plus a close-to-my-heart standalone that is based on childhood memories of the early seventies, blended with a modern murder mystery. I’m in no hurry to push it to publication, but I need to do revisions, and run it through critique group.

I used to participate in the now-defunct NaNoWriMo writing challenge. 50,000 words written during the month of November. I needed that space, before I was published, to carve out leave-me-alone time. A month devoted to writing! With the interruptions of Thanksgiving and birthdays, which couldn’t be avoided.

There are alternatives to NaNoWriMo. Reedsy is offering their version: Novel Sprint. I don’t know how this operates, but it might be worth checking out. I’ve heard of a few other events out there.

I am motivated enough, and my family understands my need to write, that I don’t need to join a challenge. But maybe I need to do a better job of tracking my writing. I already log my hours and projects. Logging words written is difficult when you’re editing projects.

Word sprints. This writing technique, or trick, encourages the writer to slam down as many words as possible during a set time. Five minutes? Thirty? The object is to silence your inner editor and just get the story onto the paper or screen. You can find groups doing them in a friendly, mildly competitive environment, or go solo.

This might be the season for me to experiment with pushing my output. Once the words are on the page, revising and editing will clean up the mess.

Do you embrace the fast-approaching, busy holiday season? Or do you long for a quiet corner, to read, journal, or write?

Autumn arrives!

When I was younger, autumn was my favourite season (even though it meant that school was starting up again). Eventually, when I began my career as a school band teacher, autumn began losing some of its lustre as my favourite (because it meant that school was starting up again).

Now my favourite season is summer. Though I no longer teach — except on special occasions — I still love summer more. I think it boils down to the length of the days. Those long summer evenings are absolutely golden, as are early summer mornings when the wind is still but the air is cool. What a wonderful time to sit and watch the world go by.

Still, autumn retains some of its charms for me. For one thing, I feel much more energized, and no, it has nothing to do with cooler weather. (I actually like hot weather.) For whatever reason, autumn’s arrival actually helps me focus better and get more done.

I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that autumn has arrived — at least as far as I’m concerned. Huh? It’s still summer Blechta! The calendar says so.

I disagree. Calendars are very arbitrary human inventions and mean absolutely nothing to the physical world. The earth thumbs its nose at our stupid expectations, courtesy of J. Caesar, Esq. I know with certainty that autumn arrived here in Ontario last week—if you were paying attention.

When our family was younger, the highlight of our summers was to camp in late August on Flowerpot Island off the tip of the Bruce Peninsula. What made it so cool for all of us was that it was pretty rough, just a platform near the water (to protect the fragile ground) on six campsites and very seldom were all of those occupied. A few times, we were the only ones camping. Tour boats came to the dock all day long disgorging daytime visitors, but around 5:00, they stopped running and you were alone out there until the next morning around 9:30. We didn’t have cell phones in those days, so if something bad happened, you were stuck. But the solitude was also magnificent.

Experiencing the natural world like this brought you closer to it. You noticed more things: changes in the wind, changes in the temperature, and the state of the waves on Georgian Bay gave us a hint of something going on.

One day, we were walking to our favourite spot for swimming. Then something odd happened. You couldn’t see it or smell it, but you could certainly feel it. We walked through what felt like an invisible curtain. In one or two steps, we went from warm to chilly. It was probably a matter of a couple degrees, but it was certainly noticeable.

We stopped. What had happened? As it turned out, it was a weather front, a passage from a low-pressure southern system to a higher pressure northern system. We found out later while talking to one of the tour boat pilots that we’d actually walked through a change of seasons.

“Wind’s changed. The Bay will turn over tonight. You can bet on it.”

“What?”

“Georgian Bay will turn over. That’s what happens on all the lakes at the beginning of autumn. The cold water from the bottom will flow to the top and everything will change. Happens every year.”

Sure enough, he was right. A wind came up with the high pressure system and over the course of the day, the water began to get cooler. Swimming out over the big underwater cliff that dropped straight down a few hundred feet, I could feel the rush of the colder water rising up and flipping the sun-warmed “summer water” down to the bottom. It was probably happening all along the Niagara Escarpment that runs down the eastern spine of the Bruce Peninsula.

Next morning it was noticeably cooler and feeling, well, autumn-ish. Yes, we had some more warm weather that year (as we are experiencing in Ontario currently), but it was clear that another summer had passed into memory.

We weren’t in the north last week, but knowing the signs, we could definitely feel the shift in seasons. My wife has noticed it in her gardens, too. The plants certainly know that it’s autumn. I haven’t seen or heard goldfinches in a couple of days. They’re always one of the first birds to leave.

I also know it happened, because I suddenly feel a shift in my energy levels. Time to begin getting more work done! This probably harkens back to the struggle to amass enough food to last through a long, cold winter, but I’ll use it. I’m waking up this week, ready to get to work.

Today I wrote 2000 words before even making coffee. If you knew me well, you’d know that’s pretty strange on its own.