A Desk of One's Own

The blessings of a laptop are that I can move all over the house with my work of crap, er, art. I’ve written at the dining room table, on the floor in the family room, and on my bed. I’ve written lounging and sitting up straight. There was even a stretch of time in the fall, after having to drive my kid around in the car to take a nap (he had a stuffy nose and was very sad), that I sat in the car with my laptop, writing in my driveway. I didn’t want to move him because he needed his sleep and I needed some face time with my WIP.

Back before I started devoting vast amount of time to my novel, I had visions of myself writing at coffee shops, vanilla-mochachino-expresso-latte-partskim-partwhole with extra chocolate sauce and extra caramel sauce, whipped cream and sprinkles in hand, my librarian glasses on, paperwork strewn about, looking all the world like a serious writer.


A far cry from the vision of me sitting in the front seat of my Jetta, the seat back as far as I could get it to go without actually sitting in the backseat, the laptop screen pressed to the steering wheel, trying not to type too heavily so I didn’t wake the booger-covered, cranky baby passed out cold in his car seat, huh?



The reality has definitely proven to be way less glamorous than I’d expected. Nowhere in my writing fantasies was I holding a baby on one hip, the laptop propped on the kitchen counter while I typed with one hand, trying to write the paragraph that sounded SO perfect in my head before it was lost to eternity and replaced by verses of “The Wheels on the Bus.”



This weekend, I was thinking of setting up a desk to keep all my writing stuff organized (ha). I initially disregarded this idea because I figured it wouldn’t work out for me unless there was some sort of super amazing toy attached that would distract my super attention dysfunctional child long enough for me to sit at said desk and produce any actual writing.



But, after further thought, I realized that I wasn’t bitter about not having a desk or a “spot” to write. I doubt, even if I had one, that I would use it. I like to flit about, writing where the mood strikes me in the house. I think that’s why I like the idea of writing at a coffee shop. It’s a fresh, creative place.



What about you? What conditions do you write under? Do you like silence or chaos? Anyone have a desk and not use it? Anyone not have a desk and wish they had one? And finally, what conditions do you think would make you a better writer?



And, a special thanks to Pamela Clare for stopping by to play on the ship yesterday! If you missed the conversation, give it a read below. It's worth the 120 comments!

Working it

I’m glad I pretend to be a pirate, because honestly, I wouldn’t make a good one. I don’t want to be a legend, or even a household name. I’m not a leader I’m a follower. I’m sure upon hearing this proclamation; Captain Jack will take away my weekend rum portion. Oh well, I’m not much of a drinker either. *g*

I’m new to the writing game. I’ll be the first to admit I have a lot to learn on the rules, and intricacies of the world of writing. The only thing I’m certain of is that I love to write.

I’ve always been a loner.

My two brothers are 6 and 7 years older than I am. I practically grew up an only child. I played alone most of my childhood, and never once complained. You might assume it’s because I was a spoiled child. Well, that’s beside the point, but I actually enjoyed playing alone. I could sit for hours with my Barbie dolls and be completely content. I credit these moments as my earliest work with dialog. I either talked aloud or mentally conversed with Barbie, Ken, and Midge. I brought GI Joe into the mix when I wanted a little adventure action. I enjoyed making up scenes and situations for them to act out, and of course, it involved a great deal of angst. Even at an early age, I aspired to be a queen of angst.

I still am a loner. I would be content to live on an island as long as I have my laptop, a lifetime supply of Diet Coke, and a bookstore nearby. The point I’m trying to make, is that I don’t always enjoy conversing, especially when it involves talking about me. I can write stories all day, but when it comes to getting my point across, I lack ingenuity. I may have a wonderful understanding of the subject at hand, but that doesn’t mean I’ll ever prove it to anyone, and most of the time it’s not my main priority.

I realize that in networking with other writers, I meet many successful people who can prove to be great mentors. I appreciate the blog for that reason, and I admire the writers and readers who stop by every day to comment. I admit I find it hard to get to know people in type written words. It’s very easy to misinterpret words without the accompaniment of facial expression. It’s difficult enough for me to get to know a person when they are standing in front of me. You throw a keyboard and a couple of modems in the equation, and it gets even cloudier.

If being published depends on me tooting my own horn, and name-dropping then I’ll never succeed. It’s not about whom I know, or who knows me, it’s about my individuality, and how I voice it in my writing. If somewhere during the journey I make a few lingering impressions with my peers, then I’ll feel I accomplished something.

Don’t get me wrong, I love you all, but if you need me, I’ll be below deck.

Do you find it intimidating to network? Are there days when you don’t feel like commenting, or blogging, even when it’s your day to produce? Does anyone else have the sudden urge for a drink with the accompaniment of a tiny paper umbrella? Is it Friday yet?

A Desk of One's Own

One of the blessings of a laptop is that I can move all over the house with my work of crap, er, art. I’ve written at the dining room table, on the floor in the family room, and on my bed. I’ve written lounging and sitting up straight. There was even a stretch of time in the fall, after having to drive my kid around in the car to take a nap (he had a stuffy nose and was very sad), that I sat in the car with my laptop, writing in my driveway. I didn’t want to move him because he needed his sleep and I needed some face time with my WIP.

Back before I started devoting vast quantities of time to my novel, I had visions of myself writing at coffee shops, vanilla-mochachino-expresso-latte-partskim-partwhole with extra chocolate sauce and extra caramel sauce, whipped cream and sprinkles, in hand, my serious librarian glasses on, paperwork strewn about, looking all the world like a serious writer.

A far cry from the vision of me sitting in the front seat of my Jetta, the seat back as far as I could get it to go without actually sitting in the backseat, the laptop screen pressed to the steering wheel, trying not to type too heavily so I didn’t wake the booger-covered, cranky baby passed out cold in his car seat, huh?

The reality has definitely proven to be way less glamorous than I’d expected. Nowhere in my writing fantasies was I holding a baby on one hip, the laptop propped on the kitchen counter while I typed with one hand, trying to get down the paragraph that sounded SO perfect in my head before it was lost to eternity and replaced by verses of “The Wheels on the Bus.”

This weekend, I was thinking of setting up a desk to keep all my writing stuff organized (ha). I initially disregarded this idea because I figured it wouldn’t work out for me unless there was some sort of super amazing toy attached that would distract my super attention dysfunctional child long enough for me to sit at said desk and produce any actual writing.

But, after further thought, I realized that I wasn’t bitter about not having a desk or a “spot” to write. I doubt, even if I had one, that I would use it. I like to flit about, writing where the mood strikes me in the house. I think that’s why I like the idea of writing at a coffee shop. It’s a fresh, creative place.

What about you? Under what conditions do you write? Do you like silence or chaos? Anyone have a desk and not use it? Anyone not have a desk and wish they had one? And finally, what conditions do you think would make you a better writer?