Office, study, a room of one’s own.
This space, call it what you will, features heavily in my daydreams at the moment, particularly those “winning the lottery” fantasies. A light room with high ceilings, bookcases on each wall, a window with a view. A space to write.
But is it really necessary? Do you have to have a space of your own, quiet and private?
I certainly don’t at the moment.
I am writing this on the sofa, next to my two children who are having their daily dose of cartoons (because, as well as a writer, I am quite clearly mother of the year.)
Later, when they are blissfully asleep and dreaming of the day Mummy’s book is published and they can finally go to Disney Land (why did I promise this, WHY????) I will get some more time. Then, it will be my husband on the sofa beside me, his headphones plugged into the television so I won’t get distracted by the noise.
I affectionately call the sofa my office, as it’s the place I’ve been writing for the past two years. I set it up with pretty much all the cushions (Dominic gets to keep one for himself, the lucky devil) and block out the world so I can concentrate on my work.
My writing space is hardly the beautifully antique-furnished office of my dreams. My view is of the silent television and my patient husband. If I look to the right I see the toys we couldn’t be bothered to tidy up.
And I’m writing this all on a laptop stuck together with gaffers tape.
But, though it’s far from a daydream, my writing space does prove something very important. I can write anywhere. Peace, silence, space, privacy…these are all bonuses, but far from essential.
The only essential thing is that, wherever you find the time and a place to rest your keyboard, you write.
And maybe daydream a little, too.