So there I was, yawning in my turret when my typing fingers ran out of running room. Even a standing stretch had no effect. This called for drastic measures–no, not the gym, I can’t’ recall the last time I was that drastic, or perhaps it’s my memory failing. Wasting no (more than usual) time, I banged the gong and instructed Myren my Chauffeur to bring around the car–we traded in the limo for a new-fangled smart car–all electric–only good for short escapes and only good for drives that don’t pass by the orbit of any malls, outlet stores or back allies where there’s an oldsmobile trunk open and a man selling hot toasters. The luggage capacity of this so-called smart car is only the size of a 1/2 karat diamond. So I suppose we could stop at a jewelers…. but I digress.
And that’s exactly why I gonged for Myren. I needed a digression (otherwise known as a diversion). A change of scenery. What the heck–I needed people around me. I worried my ear drums would turn rusty with all the turret-induced silence surrounding me all day.
So I hopped into the oversized electric shaver on wheels and we buzzed to a non-shopping related hive of activity buzzing with people talking into the space of the real world and making an impressive amount of noise. The rush of excitement slapped me in the face and Myren said, “You look pink. You want a cold drink?”
No, we weren’t at a bar. But maybe next time. We were at the local hangout, a coffee shop called Beantowne. Not it’s not in Boston. Maybe next time. I cleared a path as I strode through the shop aimed toward the comfy yet regal sofa in the corner. It was occupied, so we had to share and I pasted on my gracious smile–the one without the bared teeth–no need to scare away the natives since they were the ones creating the buzz of excitement–the very origin of the stimulating atmosphere.
Then I ripped out my MacBook and let my fingers run. Back in business. The buzzing of the coffee shop faded to white noise and the people faded from sight.
The writer could be anywhere and surrounded by anyone, but she’d still be alone in the writing turret.
For years, I used either my son’s– or later my daughter’s– bedrooms for office, but I had to vacate the place when they came home for a visit. Surprisingly, it’s when we moved from the big house into an apartment that I designed my own office. And I share it with my dream hero. You see, I hate to be stuck alone in an office with my husband watching TV or more exactly dozing in front of it in a different room. So we both enjoy this office.
My big desk is very heavy, an antique that was left in the apartment by the previous owners who couldn’t move it. My husband’s laptop sits on a black glass table. His yellow chair came to us from an old uncle. I like the mix of traditional and modern furniture in this room where every piece holds a memory or represents a special moment.
I use the left side with the desktop computer and big monitor. My chair is cushioned with a special therapeutic back support that belonged to my father thirty years ago. I kept it preciously. It helps me a lot.
The FTHRW chapter offered me the white, pink, and red silk flowers for making PRO, contests wins, books published. I cherish theses flowers that represent my achievements as a writer and I keep them in a Morano vase I bought in Italy. In the big plastic box under the credenza I save cards, pictures and memorabilia. Space is very limited in an apartment.
Under the window you can see the cherry wood desk my husband gave me many years ago when I graduated with my PH.D. in chemistry. The little laptop is the one that travels with us. We also use it as a back up. My husband is a computer wizard who’s networked all computers. I’m not supposed to touch any wire under my desk!
I have to confess that my desk rarely looks so neat. It took me three days to organize and clean its top so I could see the desk wood. I frame the monitor with pictures of my grandchildren. The big mug has the avatars of my first on-line friends from the Playground loop. By now, all its members are published with several NY bestsellers and Rita winners.
The bookcase behind my husband’s glass table holds my dictionaries, craft books, my father’s books, and French books I like to keep–all half-hidden behind many framed pictures.
On top of the bookcase we keep a maquette of the first plane my husband sold, his bigger tennis trophy and a framed picture of me with VP Al Gore at a VP fund-raiser I attended on behalf of my company president in 1995.
So this half of the room is the office. The other half is our family room.
My husband’s old stereo system that he’ll never let go sits on a file cabinet. The sofa bed the kids use when they visit faces the TV. I keep on it a therapeutic massage mattress I use for half an hour at night. On the back of the sofa, a bear that was a gift from my Playground friends. The bear is dressed as the hero of my first published book, To Love A Hero, General Sergei Fedorin. My grandchildren know they are not allowed to play with Nonna’s bear, only hold it for one minute!
Beside my bear is a small pillow, with Too Many Books, Too Little Time, gift from a dear writer friend.
Across from the sofa is the TV and another bookcase with my own books, autographed friends’ books and a lot of novels I want to keep–and always a lot of frames and knickknacks around the books.
Above the TV a caricature, Mona The Chemist, done many years ago when I was still working on my Ph.D, and next a picture of the house where we lived for 25 years, and a picture of my first book.
When I write, my husband use headphones to listen to the TV which is alomost behind my back and doesn’t distract me. Besides, when I write I become deaf to my surroundings.
When my grandchildren are visiting, my office/family room become their playroom and the TV is on all day on Dora, or Thomas the Train, or any shows they want.
And now let me introduce you to the view that inspires me when I write.
And our beautiful sunsets.
It’s in this office that most of my books were composed.
MOTHER’S DAY BABIES: http://tinyurl.com/cz3v5a8
VALENTINE BABIES: http://tinyurl.com/avb2kbu
RIGHT NAME, WRONG MAN: http://tinyurl.com/85o4wg7
BABIES IN THE BARGAIN: http://tinyurl.com/6mcd6e3
Have you ever wondered how life would’ve treated you, had you been born in another time, another place?
I’ve often wondered why I feel this way. Maybe it’s because I’ve experienced chapter after chapter phases, life has thrown my way. That’s the way it is. Pure and simple. That’s life. One obstacle course after another.
If I live life to it’s fullest, I can’t escape its ups and downs of human survival. And…there has been one valley after another to walk and one mountain after another to climb. I know this is normal. Do I like it? Not much. 🙂 I’d rather live on the mountain top where the air is sweet and the clouds drift in and caress my cheek. But, that’s for dreamers.
I, too, dream.
This week, my dreams lengthened in the form of sadness, but hope, for my brothers and sisters on this earth. My heart aches for the people of Oklahoma, their losses and devastation at what they’ve endured while tornadoes ripped through their town and took away, for most, all they had. Some are left with the clothes on their backs or little else. So I dream a better life for them, and pray that God will ease their heartaches and prepare them for the struggle that lies ahead.
For now, Another Time, Another Place isn’t important, except that I’m thankful and happy that all my family are safe. That’s all that really matters. Things can be replaced, but the loss of a loved one remains forever.
On a note of what I intended to post, is that I’d love to live in a rambling Victorian home and have as much time to write as possible. The time matters not.
Do you wish for another way of life?
My books are available at Barnes & Noble, Amazon, Kobo, Sony, Diesel, Apple and Smashwords.
You can find links on my website, here. http://caroldevaney.weebly.com/my-books
I recently moved up to my son’s old room (Army) so I now have Raiders wallpaper in my office. I had to do some rearranging of my stuff too. I like to be surrounded by controlled chaos. Lots of stuff, but all in its place. I clean the office between books. That is like a sign that one is done and another hasn’t been started yet. LOL
As you can see, I love to be surrounded by stuff. I use the window sill to have family pictures and knickknacks close by. My reference books are on the right and my inbox and day planner on the left. My view is a giant cherry tree.
I have two giant bookcases. These are for more knickknacks and my hard cover books. A few dolls and childhood treasures sit on there too, along with some family pictures.
Thanks for checking out my writing space.
RT 2013 was an exceptional experience for my husband and me. Vince and I did an interactive workshop on how to write realistic fight scenes for your female characters. I hope we get a chance to do it again next year and get more people from the audience to try some of the techniques. It’s always easier to describe something when you’ve done, felt, seen or in some other way experienced it. No one wants to experience an attack, so this offers a safe and entertaining environment to see how it may play out for your heroines.
Vince also had the opportunity to present on Cathy Maxwell’s panel: Hunks, Haggis & the Highlands, with Susanne Saville, Kimberly Killion, and Jody Allen (Scottish History Scholar). Last year we took our Scottish food business, MACSKIS HIGHLAND FOODS, national. Our flagship food is HAGGIS. Vince and Jody attended Cathy Maxwell’s session on the Highlands at RT 2012 and piped in when some of what was presented about haggis wasn’t accurate. Far from taking offense, Cathy asked them both to join her in 2013. The presentation rocked, not only because all the presenters were wonderful, but because Cathy Maxwell is so darned funny! And, Yes, there was Haggis to Taste! AWESOME….
I got the chance to meet and get to know Cathy Maxwell, which pretty much made the conference for me; that and tossing my husband around 🙂 I also got some quality time with Mia Marlow, Bobbie Smith and Heather Graham. One of the highlights for me was meeting fellow Authors of Main Street author, Jill James, in person. How wonderful of her to come to our workshop!
The last year or so has been one of jumping in the deep end for my husband and for me. I’m writing full time, attending as many Highland events across the country as I can while we develop more food and gear for MACSKIS and market it to high-end restaurants, grocery stores and venders at Scottish events. I’m also working with historical researcher, Jody Allen to organize a national conference for writers of Scottish and other Celtic historical romance.
Sometimes jumping in is the way to make things happen. Yes it’s scary…believe me, we live that. It’s helpful when you jump in together. I am thankful for my best friend, the man who lets me take him to the ground in front of a group of mostly women shouting, “Kill him again.” And he does it with a smile and sense of humor that never fails to crack me up. He didn’t balk when I said I needed to see how the lambs where treated before we took our haggis nationwide. He flew me to Colorado to tour the meat processing facility. Not only did this vegetarian go, I saw the animals. (No antibiotics, No growth hormones, These animals weren’t scared or jammed into tiny spaces, they were treated ethically.) He also helped develop a vegetarian version and a gluten free version of haggis. Many die-hard haggis makers wouldn’t even consider that.
The best thing about going to RT or any of the conferences within the writing community is the people you meet. I’ve had the opportunity to meet some fantastic people. The thing that makes this wonderful ride so filled with joy is that I’m on it with Vince. Thanks to best-friends everywhere. You make our worlds, which as writers can be filled with solitude, complete.
Thanks to everyone who came to our presentations! We had so much fun participating! If anyone would like to get a group together for next RT, I’m all over that :). It would be wonderful getting to know you.
Here’s to jumping in with both feet no matter what you decide to jump into,