Summer, like the Starks say about Winter (you’re welcome, GoT fans), is coming, and I want the carnivals and festivals, the beach, and a base burn (as unhealthy as I know a burn is, I know that if I burn once, it won’t happen again for the rest of the summer). I want to drive around a neon lit town with the sunroof open to the smell french fries, pizza, and boardwalk burgers on the night air. I want to pretend, or rather, truly believe, that I honestly do love everyone in the beach side bar.

But what does this mean for my writing? As spotty as my progress has been, I notice it waning even more with the warm weather, the sound of night bugs, and that smell of summer. And I can’t deny, I’m most prolific in the Fall, when the weather, and general feel of my part of the world, changes.

How do you, especially those with demanding jobs in addition to this writing thing (this most certainly includes stay-at-home-motherhood), stay on task when the weather outside is your preferred weather?