The thing about thermometers is, they tend to be in the shade

So I was starting to compose a profound post about flawed novels, and about how I actually don’t have a trunk full of same, because every one of my novels starts out as a flawed novel and while it may take years, eventually gets revised into something else; and about how this may be one of the actual benefits of having a messy writing process, because you don’t have abandoned projects so much as projects deeply in process … why my brain froze up and said: It’s hot out there. It’s really hot.

Because we’ve managed to top 105 the past few days, which is the temperature at which we officially make the transition around here from “warm” to “hot” and even begin edging toward “too damn hot” (which we officially hit at 110).

Especially since, well, it’s not just 105 degrees outside right this moment (it’s gone down a couple degrees) … with the double-digit humidity, it actually feels like 105 outside. One of the perks of living in the desert, most of the year, is that it rarely feels as hot as it actually is.

So I’ll be over in the (shaded) corner, moving slowly, gathering what brain cells I actually have for actual writing.

FlaVorIce, anyone? 🙂