Living in St. Louis means enduring brutal weather—freezing winters and blistering summers.
Sure, other cities deal with this too, but St. Louis weather hits different. Maybe it’s the whiplash-inducing shifts from day to day, or the humid heat that clings like a second skin. Whatever it is, it’s relentless.
The average temperature in June here is 86 degrees. In July, it’s 90. That might feel mild compared to Phoenix, Arizona, where July averages 103 degrees. But for someone who’s never visited Arizona—let alone lived there—90 degrees feels like an inferno.
In 2021, after cutting the lawn at my home, I experienced what I’d describe as heat exhaustion. I felt fine while mowing, but once I got into the shower, everything changed. I became short of breath, overheated, dizzy, and felt like I might pass out.
I yelled for my wife, and she helped me to the bedroom, where I lay down on the bed with just a towel over me. She turned on the ceiling fan and brought me a glass of ice water. After several minutes, I finally cooled down and caught my breath.
That was the last time I cut the lawn. I’ve hired a lawn service ever since.
But it’s not just that episode that keeps me away from yard work. I simply don’t like being outside. For anything.
As a kid, I was always outdoors—playing every sport imaginable, riding my bike, or, for reasons I still don’t understand, catching worms and cutting them up. Ew. What was I thinking?
Even twenty years ago, I used to go biking with my young kids, or we’d head to the park to play baseball. But as they grew older and started doing their own thing, our outdoor adventures came to a natural end. Most of our time together shifted indoors.
Ten or twelve years ago, I worked a summer job at a camp. Unfortunately, it meant being outside for long stretches—recess after lunch, gym classes, field trips. It was brutal.
Since then, I’ve developed a deep aversion to the outdoors. Walking to my car, checking the mail, or taking out the trash gives me all the vitamin D I need. And it’s not just the heat. It’s the bugs, the flies, the animals, the grass, the dirt, the mud, the wind—basically, all of nature.
Every once in a while, I’ll make a sacrifice. Like when a good family friend had a birthday party at a park. I stayed for about thirty minutes. And I absolutely did not eat. Eating outside is the worst.
Summer, however, is my favorite time to write—mainly because I’m not teaching. I still work 16 hours a week at the library in the summer, so if time permits while I’m stationed at a desk, I use that time to do some writing.
Writing in the summer has become my best excuse for staying indoors. I even left my summer camp job back in 2015 after deciding to have back surgery—and I committed to finally start writing my first book. I finished that novel in 2021.
Now, four years later, I’m hoping, planning, and determined to finish my second novel before this hot summer ends.
So while others are out basking in the sun or grilling in the backyard (and yes, I might cautiously do some grilling myself), you’ll find me indoors—chasing stories, staying cool and hydrated, and letting the summer heat fuel my fiction, not grill my soul.