You’re burning dangerously close to the landscape of my story.
Stop that.
What do you mean, you’re a fire and I can’t tell you what to do?
If I’m writing in a place, that makes it mine. Of course it does.
So back off.
Me
P. S. Just because the volcano didn’t listen is no excuse at all.
More specifically, the Whitewater-Baldy Complex Fire, which is burning near and through New Mexico’s Gila Wilderness, and which really isn’t all that ordinary, having become the largest fire in the state. Though I do know that both wildfires are a part of how the world works, are needed, and that surpressing them in the past didn’t go well, and that such suppression was probably even part of the cause of this particular wildfire. And that the ways in which the land recovers and thrives after wildfires are remarkable and have a magic all their own. Mostly, having been somewhat vague about exactly where in/near the wilderness the story is set (though I know now exactly where I imagine it being set), I need to make some decisions about whether the story will have been touched by the fire or not, decisions that have not only setting but thematic and even possibly story implications. Which I may or may not want, depending. Landscape is character. Landscape is story. Landscape is not static. Think think thinkety think.