I am a creature of darkness. It’s when I’m the most comfortable, the happiest and not coincidentally, the most productive. In the cooler months, I can pound out up to 4000 words a day if I’m feeling particularly inspired. As the days to start to warm and I start to melt with the heat, sometimes I can barely pry out 500 words from the sticky mess I become. So the long bright days of summer are not my favourite things. In fact, summer is usually when I find myself sinking into a recurring depression. The Lord of Darkness in the film Legend, said it best. “Sunshine is my destroyer.” Okay, I’m being dramatic, but sometimes, after weeks of not being able to finish anything, that’s what it feels like.
It used to make me feel like such a grouch, a freak even, that a time of year everyone else looks forward to brings me all the enjoyment of a splinter stuck underneath my skin, but as I’ve gotten older I’ve discovered a different way to appreciate the season. For me the sweetness of summer comes in the fits and starts of creativity I manage to eke out here and there. Bursts of productivity whose honeyed memory I cling to until the next one comes along. Like today. My headphones and I have taken refuge from the sun in a cool, shadowed bedroom and I’ve finished one story and am just about to start another. “Sunshine is my destroyer,” but not today.