Before I started writing books myself, I always pictured “the quintessential writer” as the following:
This is a still from the 1945 film Leave Her to Heaven. Cornel Wilde, “the writer,” is hard at work with his lovely (turning out to be total lunatic) wife, played by the amazing Gene Tierney, standing by his side. What you can’t see is that they are sitting in a beautiful lakeside cabin deep in the woods. This is where Wilde’s character goes for inspiration and can sit for hours just typing away, crafting his next great masterpiece without a care in the world.
This is not what it looks like when I write. I don’t go to a cabin of any kind and my handsome husband is not standing by my side, smiling down at me with pride and utter amazement at my abilities.
I identify more with this woman:
As for the environment around me, I don’t have one “writing work spot,” per se. At night I’ll work on the couch. But during the day, I’ll write whenever I can. This means I’ve written in the following places:
On bleachers during soccer practice
In the cafeteria during gymnastics practice
In a plastic chair during swimming practice
Waiting rooms, lots and lots of waiting rooms
In the back seat of my van
In Arizona looking at this:
Ironically, I got the least amount of writing done there. I guess I was too busy admiring the beauty.
Where do you write?