So yesterday it wasn't that cold out. It was below freezing, but not by much, which if you live in Canada, is essentially a heat wave. So I decided, "today is the day I'm going to wander around to some local bookstores and try to sell my book!"
Every day, my wife asks me what the weather is like. And I tell her, "it's cold, just like yesterday," and I wonder why she insists on checking the weather every day when she can just look out the window.
Well, she's right, and I'm wrong.
Today it was -30 degrees Celsius (which, for those of you who haven't yet converted your measurements to Science, is -22 degrees Fahrenheit). I was regretting my decision to be outside before I got to my first destination, which was closed anyway, leaving me to weigh the pros and cons of curling into a ball and letting the cold take me.
More success later on (thanks to a local pet store we love letting me warm up), but for now, what I've decided is that my next novel is going to released in the summer. And take place on a tropical island. Or inside an active volcano. Or possibly the surface of the sun.