If I have learnt nothing else from my time as an aspiring writer it’s that if the space in which I am trying to write in isn’t right then, I am not going to get a lot of writing done.
Sometimes I choose my desk. On it there is a radio, some twinkling fairy lights inside a glass jar (pointless but important), a photo of my Grandad and I at my 21st, candles, place mats, my laptop and an owl pot filled with corks and stones (again, totally useless but crucial).
From my desk I can look out to a view over fields. In the summer this view is gorgeously clear, blue skies and greenery. Occasionally it is blurred through the raindrops hitting the window, but that just makes me more thankful that I am inside and at my desk. On a good winters day the view is spectacularly white from frost or snow and it is, especially when writing, one of my favorite views.
Sometimes I choose the sofa. Since getting our puppy who is extremely lovable if not a little bit of a distraction, I struggle to work upstairs at my desk if nobody else is around. This is why I have acquired a new working space on the corner sofa that is so comfortable that if hungover I simply sleep and no words are written. Sometimes my feet are up, sometimes they are not but always my slippers are on. My dog, Arkley, likes to nestle in between me and my laptop on my lap, listening intently to me reading short stories aloud while editing them.
Sometimes I choose outside. When the weather is being nice, I just have to work outdoors. There is a little bench in my garden and the sun is guartuneed to shine on one seat. That is the seat I choose to sit at. I lay everything out as if on my desk; my laptop, diary, coffee and usually another sugary beverage to spark up some extra motivation. Here, I enjoy the warmth while producing more material.
Then there’s my other place. A house of my friends which I find so special when it comes to my writing. I discovered while house sitting there that it had a good effect on my writing. New ideas flowed and the motivation lingered so that I just couldn’t stop. Whether it was changing my space or something in the air over that pocket of land, I’m not sure, but there is something in it that means a lot to me and my work.
One day, I know (hope) I live in a wonderful house looking out over a lake because water too helps me and my words. Whenever I got to the beach even if I don’t intend to, I write or note down so many ideas which flow out of my overwhelmed mind. Being by water is certainly something for the soul, but it helps my writing too.
So as pernickety as this all may sound, these are the spaces in which I like to write and they are very special to me.