The Desk
I am fascinated by the rituals and good luck charms a writer must have to get work up and running or to finish work by. I am also interested in the things a writer absolutely must have to get work done. That might be as significant as a room of one’s own or as old school as a notebook and pencil. It might be a soft, silky scrunchy to keep an unruly fringe off of your face whilst slaving over the keyboard, or a doughy lump of soft slime used as a stress ball as you search for the perfect word or line of dialogue. All of these things can be a vital necessity but they can also be a diversionary tactic. An objet du procrastination. In my case they might be the latter. I’ve spent too long mulling over what I need to get my elusive work underway. I can’t possibly complete this play/novel until I have a proper place to write or a useful ‘thing’. Until I have it, I won’t/can’t write. First it was a shed, preferably a Shepherd’s Hut type one but then David Cameron stole ...