Fifty-two degrees and rainy in Springfield, MA today. I slept in to an inordinate and unseemly time for a working author. Still, I awoke with a vigorous attitude towards my daily duties and writing. Small jobs faced me; jobs I normally try to put off. Perhaps the extra sleep took away my unhappiness with facing boring every day duties. One after another, I checked things of my list. I made phone calls: house insurance, car insurance, Library of Congress for number for sixth book, scheduling a launch program for my fifth book, analyzing problems with uploading in various formats, started working on my new laptop, etc. I was productive. Now i pose a question to you friends and followers. When there is bad weather do you think we become less likely to venture from our hidey-holes? Does that then encourage us to do more boring tasks so we can forget the rain outside? If those are good explanations for my productivity, then why did the rain and cold make me sleep way too long? Answer one one way negates the other possible truth. I have no answers for my bouts of productivity. I insist that the mysteries I write for fiction are no where near as difficult to solve as the mysteries i face in everyday life. I can solve anything but everyday life; I leave that to inspiration from above. Tell me what you think? Perhaps the variable in our productivity limitations is what else is going on in our lives. Maybe today the rain temporarily erased the big issues I face so I could address the little issues. Maybe there are doors that close off in my brain allowing me to access new energies without regard to a closet filled with resistance. I bet I have many of those closets in my grey matter.

K. B. Pellegrino, Author

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