- Rebecca F. John
I recently visited Zakynthos, Greece, to attend a wedding. I had anticipated it being hot, but I don't think I'd ever experienced this degree of hot before. Most of my time was spent hiding in the shade or in the water. This was not the kind of writing fuel the French Alps had provided me with earlier in the year. What it has perhaps taught me, though, is that all experience feeds into our writing, in some way or other, because as I sat looking out at this lonely little boat, tilting and bobbing, I could not stop thinking about rain, and the many ways I was going to write it when I got home.
And that's largely what I've done since getting back to my desk - think and write about rain. Strange, the way life translates to the page. I'm glad I don't understand the process. I usually find myself the most interested in the things I understand the least.