My first writing season starts today. It is inevitable that I talk about writing on the first day on the next three months that I will dedicate to lay the clay for two novels and a essay book. There will be around four thousand words being written a day for the sole purpose to compose these three tomes. There will be an extra 500–1000 from Monday to Thursday to complete these blog entries and my idea of the day entry.
The months of June, July, and August are perfect for this endeavor because it is winter down here in Brazil. It may be a snob argument to use the cold as the preferred temperature of writing, as if people from tropical weather could not write as well as the writers from temperate climates, but it is impossible to think under scorching sun pressure.
Marathon runners probably go through the same thinking. To win a marathon you must run the 42.2 kilometres under 2 hours and 30 minutes. Wasn’t it difficult enough, but to endure exhausting cardiovascular speeds under the sun makes the whole ordeal much more difficult. Although running a marathon under a snowstorm must not be as pleasant either.
But the writer is guarded from the weather so the show falling outside won’t affect his process as much as heat would. But it is not an argument about elegance of thought but a question of pure endurance. Because writing and running a marathon are very much like the same activity.
To win a marathon is a bizarre event. You don’t have to beat someone’s excellency either compete against the opposition’s obstacles. The winner is a mere performance of statistics. For the runner it is a lonely activity. She will decide how much she wants to run, how fast she will run. And when she reaches this arbitrary number, nothing special happen. There are no fans of her activity, unless family, friends or other runners. The family and friends are there to support her. The other runners are the ones who really understand what she is going through.
Runners must endure and writers must endure. So the heat won’t make you dumb but you won’t have enough strength to write otherwise. The sun gives a lot of energy to us but it takes it all back, leaving us with no choice but to wait for our restored complexions.
I rather do therapeutic activities during the summer. Activities that are repetitions that we can perform even if we don’t have the energy to. I will make books, carefully so it won’t have any sweat on them, while I wait for the temperature to lower. And when it does, like on this beautiful day of June, I will start right up to write everything before the heat rises up again.
Originally published at apostrofe.me.