Autumn has finally arrived. I’m not entirely sure why, but it’s always been my favourite season. I like the colours, burnt oranges and browns, and I like the temperature, not too hot, but not yet too cold either. I quite like a bit of rain, too, so long as I’m inside listening to the sound of it on the windows. I don’t even mind the nights starting to draw in. I’ve always like being able to stop off for a coffee in the evening while it’s dark and the shops are still open.
One of the oddest things that comes with autumn, for me at least, is a renewed level of creativity. It’s almost completely counterintuitive to me. I suffer from SAD (Season Affective Disorder), which makes me more depressed as we head into winter, yet I always get a great outpouring of ideas along with it. When I’m depressed I normally lose all motivation and have been known to lose the ability to write anything meaningful for months, but when I get it as autumn rolls around, I get a burst of energy alongside it.
So I now have a rush of ideas raging like a torrent in my brain, all trying to make their way out onto the page, along with what I know is going to be a finite amount of energy to realise them with. It can be frustrating, knowing that I may not be able to get everything out before all motivation leaves me. I have half-finished stories and fragments cluttering my hard drive already, alongside discarded notes and story titles without a story to go with them. But in amongst all of that, I’ll get a few completed stories, or usable outlines at least, which makes it all worth it.
I never know how long it’s going to last for. Sometimes it’s only for a week or two. Some years the energy doesn’t go away, and I’ll keep going until whenever the next big crash comes along. I never know when that’s going to be, so I just keep going, and hope that I can finish as much as possible while there are still a few leaves on the trees.