Many avid readers seem to think that, or want to believe the myth that writers are a mysterious bunch with a unique talent that allows them to conjure lucid, complex, entertaining, thought-provoking, or just plain beautiful stories from mere thoughts and ideas.
Since I’m officially and professionally allowed to call myself a writer, I thought you might like to see a bit of where I make my magic from words. Trust me, it ain’t all that mystical or inspiring. But I do have a menagerie of stuffed animals that gravitated to my desk over the years and they do provide a small measure of company and comfort, especially in winter. You might be surprised to know I haven’t named any of the little guys or gals yet. They’re just there.
I do the majority of my freelance work here since two monitors allow for faster research and less clicking back and forth between windows or tabs. Most of my fiction is done either in coffee shops (or at my dining room table for some strange reason, although the dining room is always much neater than my office. Castle Danger didn’t see much of this room other than some editing, downloading, and printing of chapters to proofread.
BTW, I cleaned up my desk space and office a lot for this shot, but most people would still consider it to be messy. But it’s not unsanitary. It’s just that I’m my father’s son and make excessive use of post-it notes and a filing system whose cardinal rule is that anything sitting on the desk either needs immediate attention or will need immediate attention at some point in the future (perhaps as far away as six months… but I might need it today!)
And the view out my window is pretty nice in spring, summer, and fall too. Not so cheery in winter.
Where do you spend the bulk of your time being creative and productive?