The Oddity of the Inner Life of the Author: Seasonal Settings

The thaumaturgy of a winter setting is the wide-open field of horror and beauty. Winter can kill an unprepared human even in the middle of a city. It can drive, sting, nip, and bite. It can stop, shut down, and destroy. The smallest task becomes almost impossible in the winter. Some days, the only goal is to make it through the day alive or through the unending, slowly dropping, refreezing night. Dangers are hidden under supposed purity. One can crash through a crust to be cut, wounded, or drowned. Things aren’t what they seem. Swift death hides beneath the beauty. A used-to-be-known world slides away below our feet.