When the days shorten, lights illuminate the world and leaves fall off the trees, I get inspired. Spring, summer, I passionately love those seasons, but they can’t inspire me like the fall can. Whenever I spend some time in town or out in the forests, I return refreshed and ready to write.

Which is convenient, because fall is a time when disappearing into the story I am crafting, with a cup of tea or some hot cocoa, is one of the most pleasant ways to spend the time, avoiding the cold rain and snow outside. Because as inspirational as the world might be, I’m not a fan of the cold or the winter weather. Or the shortening of daylight by itself.

I do notice that the slowly darkening of the world tends to not just inspire me, but to tip the scales of my story. I write darker stories, or stories where hope is a strong motive.

I guess inspiration is a funny thing. It both motivates and shapes thoughts, helping me craft stories that would not have been there without it’s specific source that brought me ideas.