Where do I write?

Where do I write? In an earlier post, I showed some fantastic photos of famous sci-fi and fantasy authors and their writing nooks. The two common denominators appeared to be overflowing bookshelves and piles of “stuff” on and around the desk. I’m sure this embodies most readers’ imagination of where authors hole up to pen their masterpiece. It makes sense, since authors are usually avid readers.

I so much wanted my own environment to mirror this ideal vision of genius at work. Not so, I’m afraid. All our books are stashed on surprisingly neat floor-to-ceiling shelving in our “library”. I write in my office on an aging Mac Mini. This isn’t just my writing niche, but a place for programming, gaming, paying-bills, surfing, photo processing, etc. But it is, apparently, the only place I can write. I can’t be creative on a laptop. I certainly can’t embrace the romantic image of the author typing furiously at Starbucks. No, I can’t concentrate on my manuscript anywhere else than at my desk, on that little Mac. So much for my romantic aspirations, but then I suspect many moe of my writing illusions will be shattered before I see my books in print. Actually, I rather enjoy retiring to my little Mac, knowing that I can always be creative there. My writing desk won’t impress my future readers, (or maybe I’m the only one with such a fascination for where writers write?) but it is my writing niche.

Oddly, I can’t design or outline in that same chair. I have to think elsewhere. I like to brainstorm ideas on paper, and my favourite place to outline is sitting outside in the sun. There, I can fill five pages of outline in minutes. But never at the keyboard. Iwonder if this stems from a long career as a software engineer, where I have trained my brain to design on a whiteboard, and only turn to the keyboard to code, when the design is clean and ratified.

What else can I say about my writing environment? I don’t have a favourite or special time of day, though practicality usually limits my writing to evenings after work, or weekends. I can never write to music, no matter how quiet, so needless to say, TV or any kind of aural distraction is a no-no. Silent and alone is how I write, although a cat or two is allowed, if they behave and don’t try to edit my scene as we go along. To immediately contradict myself, the sound of rain hugely inspires me, but no, I can’t fake it, it has to be real rain on the window. Alas, it doesn’t rain often in San Diego. Maybe I should move to Seattle. Maybe if I did, the rain would annoy me.

I guess that this musing has taught me that I do have a special writing place after all, and that it’s my fault for buying in to the stereotyped and deific image of authors sitting at an ancient bureau, surrounded by teetering stacks of books, tap-tapping away on a manual typewriter.

Where do I write?

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