It is Wednesday afternoon. I m sitting in the living room and every movement makes me break out a sweat, even typing.
It is one of those oppressive heat days, humid and 28 degrees Celcius. I think there will be a thunderstorm soon. My head already starts to feel its pressure.
I feel blessed to be a writer today. To not have to go out into the heat and go to work. I can just sit here in the living room and do my thing.
I can just grab the binder that contains the book I am editing, and sit anywhere in the house with my pens and my post-it notes. And sweat. Because no matter what you do, this weather makes me sweat.
I think I need to skip ahead in the book and edit a scene where my main character is locked up. I may have her sit and read and sweat from the oppressive heat in the room she is in.
I now know how to write that believable, as opposed to when I originally wrote that scene, back in November.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I will go pour my sweat into editing, hoping that my prediction of a thunderstorm is correct.
And I promise I won't be back tomorrow and complain that it is so cold I can't put on enough clothes to keep warm :)