I have lived on a small farm in southern Vermont for the last thirteen years. One year, it simply did not snow, and the low-grade environmental anxiety I’d been swallowing blossomed into something ferocious, blocking my imaginative impulse. I felt as though I couldn’t write fiction anymore. I poured my energy into becoming an environmental essayist and climate journalist and spent the last six years writing pieces for The Guardian. Even though my desire to write fiction has returned, environmental writing is the work that matters most to me.