It’s the season of Umbrella Death Weather in Glasgow now, and if the climate is anything like the last time I lived here, we’re in for this for the next few months. The wind whips up, the rains lash, and umbrellas succumb, crowding the bins and sides of the street along with the golden leaves slowly turning to mush. It’s a time to be indoors, reading, writing, cosying up with a creepy film, adjusting your excursions to limit them to work and back, with a stop on the road home to get supplies. It’s the Hallowe’en lull, before Christmas indulgence and shopping cranks into gear (also in the time of Umbrella Death, because there is never much snow here). For now, I don’t resent the weather breaking out. This past Summer and early Autumn have been unusually kind, balmy even. But towards March it will be a different story. But, for now, the novelty of terrible weather.
I have a little news – I am now reading submissions for Necessary Fiction. I’m glad of it. I’ve enjoyed the opportunities I’ve had in the past to read slush – the sense of discovery, a chance to appreciate other writer’s approaches and sharpen my eye – so I’m really grateful and glad to be involved now. Send send send! And obviously, read the site’s fiction feature to get an idea of what appeals (and also because it’s important to know that you like reading the stories Necessary Fiction publish, and that you’d be thrilled to be picked for such company).
Back to work for me – listening, I can’t hear the wind any more. Just the old pipes and the white noise of the dehumidifier.
Work, reading, chill, slush of the leafy and writerly sort.