Summer is drawing to a close, yet it still carries warmth within it. Evenings are getting longer, the sun is lower in the sky, and the light is changing. On the Baltic Sea, late summer is characterized by clear air, quieter beaches, and a sea that is less inviting for swimming than for reflection.
This in-between time, no longer midsummer, not yet autumn, gives me exactly the peace and quiet I need for writing. It is not a time of new beginnings, but of continuation. Closing open chapters, picking up existing threads, accompanying characters in their growth – all this comes together more easily when the days slow down a little.
Triarchia is also accompanying me in this late summer phase. Some scenes now seem clearer, as if they themselves had been waiting for this rhythm. The sea outside reminds me that stories are like waves: they come and go, they need breaks, and yet they drift on inexorably.
Perhaps that is also the appeal of stories like The Summer I Turned Pretty. Now that the third season is underway, what remains most unforgettable for me is the feeling of the first volume: the lightness, the summer warmth, the sea as a backdrop for new beginnings and change. It is precisely this floating between a holiday mood and inner turmoil that makes the perfect summer so haunting – and that also resonates in my own writing.
Holiday time is not just a break. It is also an invitation to reflect, to pause, to plan new paths. Some things come into being when everyday life falls silent: ideas for the coming months, plans for new beginnings that take shape almost by themselves to the rhythm of the waves and the wind.
This is how late summer becomes writing time – not loud, not hurried, but in a quiet continuity that opens up space for new thoughts as well as for consistent writing. It’s a good moment to delve deeper into projects and fill words with the clarity of these days.
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