A Drift of Quills: Writing Spaces (Where the Magic Happens)

Authors’ writing spaces are where the magic is supposed to happen, right? This week A Drift of Quills takes you on a tour of our creative fortresses—because every author needs a place to work. Hopefully not the dungeon…

I am one of those wildly lucky people who can claim an entire room for her writing space. With a population of one at my house, the quiet and privacy isn’t important anymore, but there is something to be said for having space dedicated to one’s dream.

If only the room was the right color…

Just kidding. Sort of.

At the risk of sounding like I’m bragging, this is the second home in which I’ve been blessed with my own office space. In the first, the walls above a white chair rail were painted a pale robin’s-egg blue, and the part below was a meticulously and tediously (I know; I was one of the painters) sponged greige that looked very much like sand on a beach. I don’t know if was the actual colors (accented in a crisp white) or the knowledge of the labor involved, but I loved that room.

Then we moved.

I love my new house very much, but there is some lingering hostility about the paint—That’s a story for another day. Suffice it to say the new(ish) house didn’t get painted before we moved in. The majority of the walls are done in a neutral “non-color” with an undertone of putrefying oatmeal. (Not that I have anything against oatmeal. I love the stuff. Overnight oats anyone? They’re a staple in my life.) This unfortunate paint choice includes my beloved office.

I am on a mission to repaint the entire interior, but I am slow and allergic to work. Besides, most of my office walls are hiding behind bookshelves—which I will have to move in order to paint. You see the challenge.

I’ve already moved the furniture around in here twice, and as much as I like having my desk looking right out the window, I’ve discovered that the winter sun is expert at shooting shafts of blinding light through the little tiny holes in my blinds and directly into my Trying-to-Write face. Another round of musical office furniture is imminent—after I decide what color of paint I want to use, because I am not moving things again if I can possibly avoid it. It will probably come as no surprise that I am considering robin’s-egg blue…

Who knew writing spaces would be so challenging?

In the meantime, let’s have a gander at the way things are right now, shall we? You can take a peek at the previous arrangement if you like. Oh, and I have a confession: This project inspired me to clean up the piles and piles of stuff I’ve let collect in here lately. Yesterday morning it looked more like this:

Writing space of author and commentator William Buckley

So thanks for that! (And thanks for not looking in the Junk Closet. Oh, wait. You can’t see it!)

From this perspective, things somehow look more stark than when I’m standing in the doorway. Curtains would help. I have some! They’re in the closet… (blasted roundtuits!)

Other people have cats, I have plants. There are two on the desk, the miniature jungle pot on the floor, and a few more off-screen. And that board tucked behind the shelf? My plot board.

Knickknacks aren’t really my thing, but this room has a few. A gargoyle; a picture of my daughter turned into a fairy, the poster version of the first cover As the Crow Flies my husband surprised me with; an owl bookend my daughter brought me all the way from Hawaii (I love owls!); my little pine cone hedgehog (for when I feel prickly); and (of course) a crow.

The pine cone hedgehog:

Below are some of my dragons. My darling writing partner Kristie sent me the dagger for Christmas one year—then she carved me a teeny tiny dragon with silver eyes (the copper-colored figure hanging on the shelf there to the left). [Spoiler alert: it has something to do with Sherakai…] The other (longer) dragon is a necklace my sister Mickey made me using a dragon (shock, right?), my mother’s earrings, and an agate from my first grade teacher cleeeeaaar back in elementary school. Her husband tumbled rocks, and she used them as rewards. Rocks are cool when you are six years old.

And this? The sweetest little wood nymph “pot” you’ll ever see—also from Mickey. (As is the hedgehog!) What do you think is in it?

So this writing space is my happy space. It’s mine—personality-wise as much as physically. It’s full of books (I like books just a little). It’s freckled with thoughtful gifts from people who love me. This space is where the magic of writing books happens for me.

Let’s check out more Quillish writing spaces!

P.S. BROADDUS

Author of The Unseen Chronicles
Parker’s website

My writing desk is situated in the study, against the far wall, just right for catching the morning sun. It’s perhaps the one, sometimes, semi-quiet place in our small farmhouse complete with five kids. Other than the back corner of the hot water heater closet…

PATRICIA REDING

Author of the Oathtaker Series
Patricia’s website

In truth, I cannot complain about not having enough room. After 30+ years of raising children, my husband and I are now alone in our home. While I would not use “large” as a word to describe it, even with children in the house we had significantly more room than my family of ten (Mom, Dad, and their eight daughters) had when I grew up. In those days, up to four shared a single bedroom, and there was but one bathroom for the entire clan. I’ve been blessed in that the circumstances in which I raised my children were significantly better—and yet, I was always at a loss for finding space for one thing in particular. That one thing was: me.

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Have you got a room of your own? We’d love to see your writing spaces. Share below, and tell us why it’s special to you!