The Writer’s Surroundings

I told you a little bit about how environment is important here, but I’ve never shown you my own writing environment. I often get requests about desks and where I go to write. With NaNoWriMo in full swing, I spend a lot of time at my desk and will show you that environment now.
    I’ve decided that pictures are probably the best way to show you how I write:

Here is a picture of my entire desk area. Please notice that there’s not a lot on my desk. I get distracted by ‘things.’ Things that tell me about appointments, other story ideas, etc. Also notice that I have the usual trappings of my writing process, a candle and cup of Earl Grey Tea. I also have some inspirational things that add a bit of whimsy to my working corner.


    First I have a picture that hangs above my desk of a wildlife scene. I picked it up at an art store in Wells BC which sold a community of arts items, which I think was much like a Co-op but I can’t remember. It stirs my imagination and thus keeps me thinking about potential, possibilities and helps me ask the question “what if?”

    Second I have a block that I picked up in a gift shop in Dawson Creek that has the following on it, “The world is waiting to hear your story.” This little block is my motivation to tell my story when self-doubt settles in and makes its home in my brain.

    The last item I have was given to me by my mother. She and I went into a shop in Wells BC shortly after a week-long intensive writing workshop and she picked up quite a few things that she adored and thought would make great gifts. My mother asked me while we were in this shop if there was anything I liked. I liked the picture of the gal gazing up at the moon, the moon staring straight back down. She sat on a stump, which reminded me of my childhood favourite story The Giving Tree and makes me wonder, “What is she thinking about?”

    Often as a teen I imagined my alternate worlds from the top branches of a crabapple tree in the home of my childhood and youth. Instantly I connected with the image but the woman had no more prints nor the original to sell except card sized. Mom and I had already scooped up other card-sized art pieces so we didn’t fancy picking up more.
    Instead, my mother bought this tile-coaster with the image on it. I have since used it regularly at my desk and it has not moved from where I write, except those times when I would take my laptop to the coffeehouse.


Now that you've seen where I write, show me where you write!

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