We’ve had a whacky winter here in Boston. Just a few weeks ago, in March, I was wearing shorts and sitting out on my deck. Now things are back to normal, but, boy, that stretch of early Spring sure got me scared. Because I am this-close to finishing my next book. But the weather appears to be out to get me.

See, I can’t write when it’s nice out. I have zero discipline. I have never written a book during the summer. I may write some notes, type a little, edit a bit, but no really good, head down writing. Which means that every day the sun sets later and the birds wake me with chirping I’m like the writing version of Puxatawny Phil. Only in my case, when I see my shadow, cast by a warm sun, I know I’m lucky if I have a few more weeks of writing in me.

I just can’t stand sitting inside if it’s nice out. And, unfortunately, I can’t read my laptop in the sun. But even if I could see the letters on the screen, you know what kills me? When it’s nice out I want to read!! Oh, how I love sitting outside and reading – on the hammock, by the pool, in a deck chair, or lounging on a towel. I just associate warm weather with reading.

In fact, I’m heading on vacation in a week. To Anguilla, a lovely little island in the Caribbean. And, boy, you should see the pile of books traveling with me. Yes, I own a kindle, but I love having a book in my hand on the beach. I’ve been buying books for a month now in anticipation of my trip and I can’t wait to start them!

So, sun and warm weather=no writing.
But, sun=lots of reading.
Only writing=getting paid.
And reading=doing something enjoyable but not getting paid.

You’d think that’s pretty easy math to do. I should be writing. Damn Spring!!!!