Winter is usually a quiet time for me, and I'm finding it's true this year, too. I like tucking in, laying low, writing, mulling, reading and this year, losing my mind in a 5 season The Office marathon. (You know it's bad when Dwight strides scowling into your dream and you're not surprised to see him.)

Still, I figure it's all grist for the mill. When I gear up to write, I follow whatever fascinates me. I research all sorts of weird things, exploring whatever makes me curious, and then throw that new knowledge into the pot and let it simmer along with everything else. Some things I may end up using, some I've yet to use because it's not character-appropriate but that's okay because I always learn stuff along the way.

I like this process, even when it's so slow it drives me crazy. Sometimes it feels like I'm wandering aimlessly through a big field of wildflowers, picking one here and oh, maybe one over there, while there's a giant ominous tornado brewing up ahead, and I'm la la la-ing along, trusting that this strange little bouquet I'm gathering will somehow see me through and to safety. (Er, safety would be making my deadline with a story worth telling.)

It feels good though, when it all comes together and I get it.  Really good.