Alone in the Writing Turret – with Stephanie Queen

The TurretSo 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.

To add to my stimulation, I ordered a super espresso mocha caramel extra shot latte grande–or something big and peppy to drink.coffee drink

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.

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3 Responses to Alone in the Writing Turret – with Stephanie Queen

  1. leighmorgan1 says:

    Yep. Alone in a crowd…well, sort of, and alone with the story always…until we get to share! Wonderful post! Hope to have a writing turret some day. Guess for now the coffee shop will have to do. 🙂 Happy Writing!

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  2. E. Ayers says:

    I envy your ability to write in such a place. The noise to me is distracting. Like an attention deficit child, I must watch what is going on around me. But I do love to people watch, so I figure it balances my all too quiet house. It energizes me so that I can return to my “cave” and write. But I’d love to have a turret. This old house doesn’t have one. That’s a little too modern for this home.
    🙂

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  3. Carol says:

    A turret would be wonderful. Right now I’d settle for a few minutes to write – in any space. Like you, once I begin to write, I can shut down everything. I do like a soft musical background. Have fun!

    Like

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