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I am reading Stephen King's book, On Writing. I know, you're shocked I haven't read it sooner; it's only one of the most lauded books out there on writing. But you have to understand that while I think King is a gifted writer, I don't like his books. Because he is a good writer, his stuff stays in my head--forever--and I don't like that kind of stuff in my head. It makes me scared of the dark. It makes me afraid of vampire, aliens, and psychotic nurses as well. So I picked this up more as a "should read" than an "I want to read."
I LOVE this book. I hope it stays in my head as well as King's horror stories have because his advice on writing is wise. Funny how I find Steve King the writer so much more approachable than Stephen King the horror story teller. In this book, he comes across so approachable, so "I've been there." And he has; he's been all the same places (and then some) that I've been as a writer. Those best sellers didn't just appear. There was a lot of rejections first. And maybe best of all, he doesn't make it sound like it is any easier for him than it is for me. Granted, I only dream of going where he is now, but he makes it sound possible.
You'll be seeing more posts come out of this book, but in this post I want to ponder his first piece of advice about writing.
As I might have mentioned, my desk is tucked between the dryer and the cat litter box. So when I read this wisdom, I laughed, because all of a sudden it made sense. He's right. I do have to fit writing in between loads of laundry and taking care of the cat. I used to rail at that, wishing I had more time to write. Wishing I had a life that was more conducive to writing. Even wishing I had a more exciting, dangerous life just so I had more to write about. (Truth be told, I even thought about having another kid to provide more writing material--I mean, just look at how many people tune into Jon and Kate plus eight! But that very, very wrong, I know.)
My desk isn't in the center of the room, but King reminded me that it shouldn't be. Writing isn't my life; but it does support my life. It got me through depression, it got me through babies that didn't sleep, kids who threw up (occassionally on me), and my mom dying of cancer. I don't know what is going to come in the future, but I do know that writing will help me process it and deal with it. Writing helps me appreciate those moments of gold, the humor in situations that--at the time--seem world-shattering.
How about you? Where is your desk located?
I LOVE this book. I hope it stays in my head as well as King's horror stories have because his advice on writing is wise. Funny how I find Steve King the writer so much more approachable than Stephen King the horror story teller. In this book, he comes across so approachable, so "I've been there." And he has; he's been all the same places (and then some) that I've been as a writer. Those best sellers didn't just appear. There was a lot of rejections first. And maybe best of all, he doesn't make it sound like it is any easier for him than it is for me. Granted, I only dream of going where he is now, but he makes it sound possible.
You'll be seeing more posts come out of this book, but in this post I want to ponder his first piece of advice about writing.
"Put your desk in the corner, and every time you sit down there to write, remind yourself why it isn't in the middle of the room. Life isn't a support-system for art. It's the other way around." -Stephen King, On Writing
As I might have mentioned, my desk is tucked between the dryer and the cat litter box. So when I read this wisdom, I laughed, because all of a sudden it made sense. He's right. I do have to fit writing in between loads of laundry and taking care of the cat. I used to rail at that, wishing I had more time to write. Wishing I had a life that was more conducive to writing. Even wishing I had a more exciting, dangerous life just so I had more to write about. (Truth be told, I even thought about having another kid to provide more writing material--I mean, just look at how many people tune into Jon and Kate plus eight! But that very, very wrong, I know.)
My desk isn't in the center of the room, but King reminded me that it shouldn't be. Writing isn't my life; but it does support my life. It got me through depression, it got me through babies that didn't sleep, kids who threw up (occassionally on me), and my mom dying of cancer. I don't know what is going to come in the future, but I do know that writing will help me process it and deal with it. Writing helps me appreciate those moments of gold, the humor in situations that--at the time--seem world-shattering.
How about you? Where is your desk located?
6 comments:
Sarah;
Good to see a new post. My "writing desk" is on a short wall that encloses the stairway in what was supposed to be a quiet conversation nook. I can watch the fire in the stove in the great room from my writing chair. Above the desk, and wrapping around the long stairwell wall, is a Frank-Lloyd-Wright type stained glass window. The light in the stairwell back-lights the glass. The "covey flush" of a handfull of quail grace the cover of a 1937 "Field & Stream" magazine when covers were reproduced from paintings sits on the windowledge. This cover is by Lynn Bogue Hunt.
My "desk" is made from some "recycled" aka trash rescued plywood 11 layers thick. The kids have doodled on the top but it adds character and a historic trail of their growing up. I really need a good file cabinet. With so much information on the internet, seems I'm printing something every day.
I have hopes--whenever I have time and money or both at the same time--of builing an office in the basement where a large window looks out on the back yard. I can watch the turkeys strut in their gorgeous Joseph's coat-of-many-colors, watch the cardinals, phoebes, goldfinches, woodpeckers, rabbits, chipmunks, squirrels and an occasional deer or just daydream. I'll have a front-row seat to the changing seasons. Then I'll have no excuses not to write. But I'm sure I can find one.
Larry,
As always, your writing is eloquent. I could picture your desk, the fire in the stove, and the stained glass window. Art supporting your life.
I have to admit, I too dream of building an office. Mine would have lots of bookshelves and a south-facing window to let in some good light. I'd get an easel so that I might leave out the painting in progress--in hopes that I'd work on it in the drips and drops of free time.
A wood-place stove, ah, I can only dream of such a wonderful spot.
Wood-place stove? I think not. I was trying to type while lying on the bed. Not working so well. My apologies.
Sarah;
Your words are too kind. Thank you for the compliment.
Yeah, I really like the wood stove. The whole wood-burning thing is like camping chores every day. I enjoy the cutting, splitting, and stacking, although my piles don't always stay stacked and I have to redo them. I think the ground thaws and then the skid the wood is stacked on sinks just enough to tip one way or the other. I have about three years worth of wood right now and still cutting. I'm thinning out the woods--they call it Timber Stand Improvement--getting rid of the deformed, damaged, or unwanted trees so the remaining oaks, walnut, and cherry will grow bigger and straighter.
Taking a work break gives me an excuse to wander--I don't walk any more; a walk is a planned route. I more meander and let my path and mind take me where it will. Right now is such a wonderful time with all the wildflowers in bloom. Some days I don't get much work done.
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