The Arizona Heat Has Finally Melted My Brain

            It happens every summer so I don’t know why it came as such a surprise to me, but when the temperatures hit above 103 degrees (my personal comfort level) to 111+, my brain simply turned to mush. Yeah, even in an air-conditioned house. 

            By now I should be used to writing with sweat pouring down my neck and an overhead fan running at breakneck speed. Trouble is, it came too soon. I was basking in an enjoyable 98 degrees when the triple digits arrived a month early. I hadn’t braced myself for the sudden onslaught of heat, and as a result, I became an actual danger to myself at the computer. 

            The first realization came this weekend when I received three pages of edits from one of my copy editors for my next “Light Riders” novel, volume V.  I opened the manuscript from my documents and began to read her notes. Nothing made sense. I couldn’t find the paragraphs, let alone the sentences, and worse yet, the chapters didn’t line up. It took me fifteen minutes before I realized that I had opened the manuscript to a previously published novel! 

            Pretty bad, huh? Don’t worry – it gets worse. I re-paid bills on my banking auto-pay, making a few credit card companies more than happy. I wished the wrong people “Happy Birthday” on Facebook and a sent a condolence card to a friend who emailed me to ask, “Who died?”

             Producing quality work while guzzling ice water and dripping beads of sweat on my desk is a skill that I should have mastered years ago in New York. Back then it was called taking the Regents exams. At least 100 of us were crowded into a stuffy, stifling gymnasium in late June, with the desks lined up as far as the eye could see and a few miserable teachers walking up and down the aisles telling us to keep our eyes on our own papers. (As if we could focus past our own blurry eyeballs!) If we were lucky, the custodians would manage to drag in a large fan or two for the corners of the gym. About as useful as a fly swatter in the Amazon.

            Unfortunately, dealing with the heat is more of an attitude than a skill. I tell myself that “it’s a dry heat,” but that’s like saying, “working inside of a 450 degree oven is better than laboring at the steam cleaners.”

            Like anything else, it will just take time for my brain to adjust. That’s why I’m thankful to have such great editors and proof readers. By the way, guys, don’t tell my publisher that I sent you last year’s book!