I’ve loved skiing for as long as I remember. My dad took me out on the slopes for the first time when I was 15 months old. I’ve been told he cradled me as he gently coasted down the bunny hill. While I don’t remember it, I bet the mountain breeze gusted over my cheeks. The cold air probably seeped through my layers, too, but the sights and sounds seemingly whizzing past kept me from noticing the discomfort. The mesmerizing sensation of Dad’s perfect turns imprinted on my soul just as his edges carved through the snow—well, likely icy patches. East coast conditions are notoriously tough.
Because of skiing, winter is one of my favorite seasons. It’s definitely why snow is my favorite weather.
It’s also the reason winter is one of the lowest production points of my year. There are stronger skiers and stronger writers out there who can do both on the same day, but I am not like them. I give my all to the slopes, as well as all my free time and most of my money, and so, I spend far fewer days putting words on paper from January to April.
Yes, April. I’d ski through June if I could afford it.
All this to say, after spending the last six years in the Harmony Ends universe, this skison’s pow time has been particularly indulgent. I’ve been resting and recuperating my creative muscles by absolutely shredding my quads—and it’s been an effective recovery.
Characters, stories, and even full scenes are simmering so hot they are ready to boil over. New worlds, old worlds, and some worlds in between demand my attention with equal temptation. Of course, I tend toward fantasy and sci-fi, but even a few contemporary romance urges have tugged on my instincts.
I have a lot of decisions to make about what gets priority, but I’m so excited about the next chapter, literally and metaphorically. This period of change is about to come to a close and launch me on my next adventure, with fresh ideas and very sore legs.