I love writing in my fantasy small-town Ohio world.
Because while part of it is absolutely deep fantasy with really good magic, part of it is my house, and my street, and my little town right here…
And I love my house, and my street, and my little town, and the folks who live here.
I love the sounds of the place, and the smells. I love the wildflowers (AKA weeds to those in town who are — unlike me — obsessed with Utterly Perfect Lawns).
I came to loathe Utterly Perfect Lawns in South Florida.
I reserve the right to love my wild violets and my dandelions and all the other weedy little flowers in my soft green grass that give the bees something to make honey with.
And I love being — at long last — home, where it isn’t ninety degrees with ninety percent humidity, but a cool and breezy fifty-eight. In June.
And I love writing my crazy magical version of my little town in Ohio, with its hills, and its river, and its wonderful four seasons.
I got the words.
I’m happy.
And now I’m going off to do the other work of the day.
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