Office Space, Too Much Help, and TBRs

 

While I have a dedicated space with a standing desk and a walking treadmill, this is shared space. Turns out that during a pandemic, the entire house is shared space. As a result, I move around. A lot. Where I wrote yesterday likely won't work today. This is one of my favorite spots. The other favorite spot is on the lanai in the back. Nothing like getting to be outside while writing. Unless it's a bijillionty degrees and/or a thousand percent humidity. Nobody likes that, least of all my computer equipment. The walking desk arrangement has the benefit of air conditioning. Since I wasn't going to spend the going rate for an electric desk like Jeffe has, I made my desk from a couple of pine boards from Home Depot. I cut them to spec, took a router to the edges and corners, then sanded them down. They're painted with an unholy combination of Dixie Belle paint and Unicorn Spit. I used pink iridescent accent wax to stencil a jellyfish on the main desk, then sealed everything with Dixie Belle Alligator Hide. In this office, I like to keep my craft books close to hand for easy reference and to remind myself that most days I might actually know what I'm doing. Mostly.

 The main problem with the walking treadmill and the homemade desk is that I often have far too much assistance with my writing. (This was taken at the *other* homemade desk that's in the bedroom - it's green and rose gold and black Unicorn Spit. It is not my favorite place to write because its tucked into a corner and has me staring at a wall. It's good for focus, though, I guess. Unless I have 'help.')

Cats like to 'help' with reading, too, so it's possible I haven't managed to keep track of my TBR recently - I really lost track of it while Cuillean was dying and looking back, I realize how protracted a reading break that was. BUT. Did you know Sherry Thomas wrote more Lady Sherlock stories? I didn't. I do now. They're sitting awaiting me on my Kindle. But first, I had to HAD TO read every last Murderbot story I could get my hands on. So I don't guess I can call that TBR anymore. They're now past tense, more's the pity. Most recently, I was able to add Bright Familiar (Jeffe's second book in her Bonds of Magic series) to the TBR. Looking forward to that one very much. In fact, I think I know what's rising to the top of the pile for this weekend. Excellent.

 

Where I Do My Best Writing

Where do I write best? The short answer is…Ohio!

Seriously, though, I am not one to work from the local coffee shop or bookstore. I’m no good at write-in’s at friend’s houses. I like a comfy chair or couch with a laptop, and I have done some work in hotels at conventions, but the most work - and best work - is done in the solitude of my own office space when everyone else is off at school or work. I put my music on (movie scores, mostly), fire up incense or candles to infuse the air with some nice aroma, and I’m ready to make word count.

That said, I’m the kind of person who will rearrange the living room without warning and for no reason at all…but once my office is set, it needs to stay. The stability of the environment, as well as the routine, is necessary and conducive to my overall performance. 

In the last ten years I have moved three times.

House #1:

For five years, I had a desk in a living room near sliding doors to a covered deck. I wrote Seph books 1-4 either at the desk or at the table on the deck. I think it is worth noting that I spent a very minimal amount of time working outside the home during these years. Able to focus on the writing, I produced very solid work.  

  

House #2  

For the next five years, I had a desk in my bedroom, then a small office all by itself. I wrote Seph books 5-6 in these spots. I was working full-time, being a single parent, and spent a significant amount of time ‘adulting’ i.e. yardwork, housework, errands/shopping, etc. though my boys helped a lot. My productivity tanked. There was simply no time. 

I do not think books 5 & 6 reflect my best work because of this.

now for the good stuff...

House #3

yes, 3 screens...1 desktop, 2 laptops. new mac book

I’ve been in the new house with my new husband for only a few months now. I started with a desk in a small bedroom, but for the last two weeks I’ve been moving into the medium sized bedroom, which now has a lovely new laminant floor that looks like lovely aged barn-siding, fresh gray paint, new white cabinets and all my geekery on display… 

Yup. I have a shit-load of Star Trek and Star Wars stuff. The kids are giving me back all the cool toys as they find/unpack them, but there are some yet to find a spot. Like the landspeeder, the TIE fighter will need hung, etc. My NCC-1701-D is missing the nacells, and I hope they show up, but the NCC-1701 is my favorite, of which I haven't been able to find one big enough to be worthy of display? I mean, the one-man X-Wing can't be bigger than the Enterprise, yanno? It's bad enough the Millennium Falcon is small...

whiteboards are awesome but not revealing my secrets...

—sigh—

I want to say I’m never leaving this office…but you know what they say about saying never. The bottom line is, I’m writing full time again, delighted to be finding my rhythm amid the routine again. 

my favorite view...needs phasers and a bat'leth, yes?

And who wouldn’t be inspired here? 

My Ritual to Create Rituals

I don't know what it is about publishing a book, but every single time I do, some crisis descends, and the rituals, schedules, and discipline that got the book done and published get blown to hell. I have to reinvent my process all over again, accommodating whatever crisis has arisen this time. Can I have a ritual I'd *like* to leave behind? I nominate this one.

 

Usually rituals are lovely things designed to signal our brains that we're shifting out of our everyday world and into something other. I'm all for them. My office, when I had one, was filled with ritual items. Seriously. There's an altar in the southern window. A waterfall fountain. A salt lamp. Something to bring every element into my work space. Also - cat beds. Let's be realistic. I have long been expected to write whilst holding cat. That's more an imperative than a ritual. Book one was written in this office.

 

 I miss having a dedicated desk and office chair. That much is true. I miss all of the accoutrement that went with the great luxury of space. What I do NOT miss is the heating bill that went with this particular space and the fact that it was hell and gone from everywhere ever. So rituals of all kinds have fallen by the wayside. Desks gave way to the ergonomically egregious salon table, or to writing with my laptop in my lap. Book 2 was written with the laptop in my lap while I sat in the cockpit. Took weeks to unkink my neck and back.

 

Then I had to establish a new ritual, preferably a healthier one - that of riding in to the tea shop every day to write. Books three and five were written there while sipping various murky brews. Book four was written at the boat and while I waited during a long string of vet appointments when the eldest boy took ill. (He's now fine for a 17.5 year old with liver disease.)

 

But, on the heels of publishing book five and in the midst of writing book six, the tea shop can no longer be my go-to. I 100% regret the loss of that ritual, but it can't be helped. So here I am. Gritting my teeth in the center of the ritual that requires me to find a new ritual. Quite by accident, I may have found it earlier today. While waiting for the laundry in the Laundromat, I pounded out 800 words in an hour. Hush. For me, that's incredible. My point is that if this bears out, I may wear every last stitch of clothing out by washing them. Not sure how a Laundromat is germane to a historical fantasy, but what ever. Writing, man. The glamor never ends.