Like a few of us out here in the expanses of the internet, autumn is my favourite season. 

It’s not just because of the crunchy leaves, the cinnamon spice and the urge to wear scarves and make aesthetic soup – though I unironically love all of that. It’s also because of how this season makes me feel about creativity. 

Autumn is the Friday of the year. The juxtaposition of crisp anticipation before the weekend (which is Christmas, winter holidays and the new year), and sleepy, wintering contemplation. 

In autumn, beings of the natural world prepare to sleep, or to let parts of themselves die. In the same way it feels right to contemplate on my creative aspirations, to spend time with the ones that are strong enough for the winter, but perhaps let others go into hibernation. 

Earlier in the year, I took quite a long break from writing, blogging – and even reading – because I was spending my time and effort on illustration instead. I’m really proud of how much better I got at it over about five months. But now, at the turn of the year, I feel written stories calling me again.

I would still like to finish the picture book I started in the spring, but right now it is not where my creative attention needs to be. So it hibernates, and that’s ok. Personal creative goals do not have to stay completely constant, they can ebb and flow, and the hibernation of one gives time to press on with another. My eldritch little story anthology is my current project, and progressing nicely. 

Autumn can be a time for refresh. There is something crisp and new about a tree without leaves, just as much as one in blossom. This autumn I feel excited for the stories to come.