Chicago is having a brutal winter this year. (2013-14) In a draft of my second novel, Stardust-(working title) I begin the story in winter where I remember well what I am describing. I will admit that my childhood version of this scene is more about magical snowflakes drifting down in a slow descent; cold temperatures leaving frost on my bedroom window, nonetheless, writing about what I know has been a nostalgic exercise.
Stardust – Draft – Chapter One
On the shortest day of the year, winter wrapped its nebulous arms around the city. Katherine White looked down on the outer drive from her tenth story Gold Coast window. A stiff wind from the east hurled snow out of the darkness assailing the slow stream of cars that were heading North; commuters trying to escape the city ahead of the official rush hour traffic. Driving was already arduous. Katherine watched as the cars crept along and wondered how much longer their wind shield wipers could protect them from the burgeoning storm. Soon it would be like sweeping the ice at the United Center before a Blackhawk’s game with a broom rather than using a Zamboni. If at four o’clock it was slow going, by five, people who drove to work that morning would consider leaving their cars parked overnight. Trusting public transportation to get them home, they would join the throngs making their way to the Union and Northwestern stations.