I spent last week in paradise. It was cold and clammy in Connecticut, but warm, breezy and sunny in South Carolina. Jasmine infused the air and the magnolia trees were in bloom. Some friends and I took a horse drawn carriage ride through Old Beaufort and toured the beautiful garden-filled squares of Savannah. Then we strolled among the spanish moss laden, tree-lined streets of Old Bluffton.
I could have hunkered down in Connecticut and written pages and pages in the cold, rainy weather. But how do you ignore your surroundings and write anything meaningful while living in paradise?
For me, the answer was “you don’t”. And I didn’t.
And so I have come to question how it is that so many authors are able to write productively from warm, beautiful climes? For example…Stephen King. He is one of the most prolific authors of our time. I understand that he has homes in Maine and Florida. I get how he writes while living in the cold Maine winter, but how does he write while in Florida? When he could be walking, biking, watching wildlife, swimming?
I just don’t know. I couldn’t even write my weekly blog last week.
If I hope to keep up with this writing thing, I’d better consider retiring to Alaska.
Jean 
3 Friends Writing 