As I may have mentioned roughly 637,000 times on Twitter, my husband and I moved into a new house at the end of November. To make the move easier, we ended up locking the kitties in the spare bedroom - which meant that the space destined to become my office became a sea of spare bedding, bed parts, night tables, and boxes. So many boxes. No space to write.
|My office, ladies and gentlemen (and those of you who are neither).|
What I've found is that, as long as I have my laptop, I can write anywhere. Much of my writing is done sitting on the couch while my husband plays video games or watches movies that don't interest me. I wrote three chapters sitting on a bed in a hotel room. I've written chapters in a moving car. I write on airline tray tables, in coffee shops, or on my phone hidden under the table at family functions. When I need to write, I write. Some people need dedicated space or a block of time - all I need is my imagination and a way to get the words down.
Now, don't get me wrong: I can't wait to have my office back, so I can close the door when I need to work in peace. But the words will flow wherever I happen to be.
|I found this picture somewhere. I like it. Not mine.|