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My Office…

Or “The Room Formerly Known as Amanda’s”

I always said I’d never have an office.  Namely because our house is small and all the rooms were occupied.  I’ve never had one, and probably wouldn’t know what to do with a real one.

I have one at work, but I’m not talking about that kind of office.  I’m talking about a writer’s office.  An author’s office. 

  (yeah that’s not mine…)

 Ever since I started seriously writing, ten years ago, I’ve written in chairs, beds, on the floor, in the car, and most recently in my living room recliner.  I had little tables set up on the side of the recliner, and it actually worked pretty well.  Except for that pesky front door business.  And the high traffic access.  And the fact that I couldn’t tack anything anywhere, all my notes had to be contained in a little basket, which for me is out of sight out of mind. 

And I wanted a whiteboard.  So bad I almost couldn’t stand it.

Now, I’m not the type of writer that can have a nice office with a window and pretty stuff.  I’ll spend too much time looking at the pretty stuff.  I can’t even sit in the backyard…I get too invested in the birds and squirrels.  I need barebones.

So I got to thinking about the room my daughter vacated to move into the bigger room my son vacated when he moved out.  It’s tiny, it’s boring, and we had it full of “stuff”.  Yanno…it’s THAT room.  The one where you hide everything that doesn’t have a place, and shut the door.

I spent an evening staring at it, moving some of the “stuff” around.  I cleared off the little twin bed along the back wall, arranged some small bookshelves that were in there, brought in one of my little tables to put next to it.  And had a brainstorm.  Went to Office Depot.

Bought a whiteboard!!  *squee!!*

Put the whiteboard at the foot of the little twin bed.  So as I’m sitting at the head, I’m looking at my board with all its notes and wondrous information.  My laptop can stay up.  The copy of my cover is tacked on the wall.  Little notes are taped to the bookshelf next to me.  Various writing “things” on the shelves. 

It’s not neat and pretty.  In fact, looking at this photo I’m like wondering if I should even post it to give you this visual…but it’s comfortable so it’s me.  I’m tucked away behind the “stuff”.  I’ve never written at a desk.  So I’m still on a bed, still kind of rigged together.  But it’s the barebones I need because shiny objects come in easy form to me.  But voila!!  An office…I have one.  And it has a door.

And a whiteboard!

(did I mention that?)

Writers…where do you write?  Where do you read?  What’s a special space you’ve created for yourself?

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