I would love to say that I have an amazing office with built-in mahogany shelves to showcase my thousands of favorite books and an antique desk that once belonged to a famous author. I’d love to say I have an ergonomic chair that helps my posture and my walls are decorated with inspirational posters about writing.
But, yeah, that’s not what I have.
Instead, I write wherever I can. I start off in a chair in my living room while I have my morning coffee, celebrating the amazing words I’d crafted the day before. When my back starts to cramp in that chair, I head to the kitchen table. This is provided I can find a clear spot. During the school year, I usually have to shove projects and books to the side to make way for the laptop. With five kids, that can be a lot of shoving. I need to sponge off sticky residue from either glue or jelly. Or both. And I certainly never swear while I’m cleaning my writing area. Never.
Once I get comfortable in the wooden kitchen chair, I sometimes—almost never because I’m a writer and writers write—I might check social media very, very quickly. It rarely takes any time out of my day. I might pop on Hangouts just to see what some of my writing groups are up to. I certainly never get sidetracked by things that are not writing-related. I would never discuss inappropriate couches or clown erotica or mating rituals of insects. And if a swarm of Dragonflies (Golden Heart finalists from 2015) jumps on here to dispute that, well, they’re just flat-out fibbing. I never look at the time on my phone and realize that two hours have gone by without writing a word. That never happens. Never.
But if it did, I would want a new location to jumpstart those creative juices. That’s when I usually head up to my bed. I stack the pillows behind me to get comfy, then I hunker down and write ALL THE WORDS. I power through, not tempted by the television. Not tempted to throw things in my Amazon Prime cart. Not tempted to research anything that could take me down the rabbit hole. That never happens. Never.
Later in the afternoon my kids start yelling up the stairs that I need to be ready to take them to soccer. That’s when I slip my laptop into my Vera Bradley bag and schlep it out to my minivan. I usually brainstorm my next chapter all the way to my destination, and then as soon as I park, I whip out my laptop and don’t waste even a minute of my writing time. Usually the words are flowing and I’m way in the zone when my kids head back to the van after practice. I never leave my laptop in that cute little Vera Bradley bag while I talk to other soccer moms or text my writing friends. That never happens. Never.
I’ve written pretty much everywhere. I’ve written in bleachers. I’ve written on a large quartz rock at a park. I’ve written in restaurants and coffee houses. I’ve written on my upraised knee, standing in line at the DMV. This I did recently on my birthday since I may or may not have forgotten that my driver’s license expired on the day I turned…well, on the day I turned 33. Again.
For the most part, it’s not really important WHERE you write. It’s only important that you WRITE.
Where’s the craziest place you’ve ever written? And do you have a special place that makes those words flow? If so, share.