With our house in the building stage, I still have to wait for my writing lair to be finished but I’ve set up my desk, computers and notes where my room will be already. The thing is, where I thought I’d get right into my hot writing zone is a cool, not freezing cold, but cool place.
My view is too calming.
I have my desk facing a wall of windows and I find myself staring out at our lovely property and daydreaming where I lose track of time.
That’s when I go to places I’ve never been before and where I’m someone else. While I’m there I discover who that person really is and I see wondrous sights, meet amazing peoples from all over the universe and sometimes, from deep beneath the Earth and eat foods, drink drinks I can’t even pronounce the names of. And don’t forget the adventures I take, sometimes too eagerly, and yes, sometimes they’re more like misadventures. The aromas of all those things are hard to describe when I have nothing I can compare with.
Uh oh, there I go again. I can’t even write a blog post without gazing out there. No, don’t look, Dale. There, that’s better—now.
I think it’s time to change my writing aspect. I will turn this desk around and face a blank wall. Oh, I’ll put my photos of my journey on it, some snippets of conversation and such and all the other stuff I use to keep my memories in order but that is all—nothing else.
Now, you might be thinking that my present work-space sounds perfect for a writer to write, but it isn’t. It’s a cool place, a relaxing place, a place where I go one all sorts of journeys and I’d like to tell you about them, I really would, but I can only write one story at a time.
In the past I have tried to keep up with my daydreaming but I’ve found that if I let myself go there, to those places, before I finish one escapade, I’m starting a new one. I begin to get the names of my friends, enemies, mountains, rivers, cities, worlds, everything, confused. I sometimes forget what a person, alien, monster, etc., looks like. The next thing I know, I’m pouring over scribbled notes, mostly unintelligible, from all the stories and mixing them up too.
No. It’s better that I be determined to concentrate on one story at a time and the only way to do that is stare at the wall.
But be assured, when I finish the one I’m telling you about at the moment, I will spin my chair around and go to that place. I will live a red-hot story with my new friends.
Hmm, I must remember to pack my camera.