Going Places

Seville

As the cold settles in around my ankles, it’s nice to have an armchair and a computer to transport me far away. One of the deepest pleasures of writing is the escapism it provides, especially when a story takes me somewhere nice. When I wrote The Vault of Dreamers, I purposely gave the story many sunny days to counterbalance the nights of tension, and I enjoyed the view of the prairie in the fall, with the wind rippling the grasses and the towers of the Forge School standing out against a blue sky. I could feel the warmth on my face and taste the dry, fragrant air.

When I first write a scene, I have to put myself in it to see, hear, and do the action. Nothing unfolds for me until I’m in it, and conjuring the sensory details of the location brings me there the most efficiently. If you’re wondering how to get your writing going today, pause to cut the roses with your character. Press a sharp blade hard against the green stem, at the glinting edge of the sink, and after the cut bits drop audibly in the sink, place each rose artfully in a blue vase of water. They’ll smell of raspberries, the way roses do, and you can decide the color.