So. It turns out that all this time when I’ve been blaming the hot weather for my lack of writing, I was wrong. Partially. Yes, the hot weather makes it more difficult to write. I mean for one thing you’re sweating. You feel more tired. The only thing going through your mind is “Kill me” or “I’m melting” or “I’ll do anything for it to be 28 degrees (Celsius)” and you can’t write in those conditions.
BUT the thing that really stopped me?
I was living in the lounge, sleeping in the lounge, eating in the lounge. See a pattern emerging?
I realized just how important it is for me to write sitting at my desk, with the door closed and music playing. Any other way will NOT work. Yanno, except for last night, when I wrote 444 words while in the lounge. But that was different.
Conclusion: Who cares if your sister wants you in the lounge watching TV with her, or your friends who haven’t seen you in 4 weeks would really like to spend some time with you, or people are worried you’ve died—if writing in your bedroom like a hermit is the only way for you to write productively, do it.
PS: For any Americans, lounge=living room.