Making Time

Well, it’s time for one of those, “Gosh, look how long it’s been since I blogged,” posts.

The last thing I wrote for the Lobster was about going to NYC, which was pretty much a year ago. How strange. Things have changed and stayed the same, and that’s just as it should be.

nyc

NYC is behind me

My wonderful partner and I have moved into an apartment together — one which our cat overlord approves of. There are many bookshelves, lots of natural light at both ends of the house, a baby downstairs that seems to answer the cat’s mewling inquiries with its own tangible cries, and there’s even the novelty of having a separate office for the first time in my renting life.

I can’t really put into words how exciting this new room is to me. All my life, I’ve written in some cramped corner of my home: the small, circular table that was propped up beside the door to my basement bedroom as a kid; in my rented college closet, it was a small side table that sat directly at the foot of my bed, barely wide or long enough to hold both a book and a typewriter; and more recently, whatever spare space was around to throw a desk in. Joseph Campbell mentioned finding yourself through the use of a sacred space, and I’m hoping that  Jess and I can create exactly that kind of mental environment with our office/study area.

gand desk

It doesn’t look like much yet, but it’ll get there. And George seems comfy.

 

With a novel draft to weed through and hopefully another novel — or at least a pack of stories — on the way throughout the spring and summer, I’m hoping that this separation of space will help me organize my thoughts. Many people have discussed the merits of having that desk tucked away somewhere studious, and I couldn’t be more thrilled to give this slight level of solitude a try.

The main things I’m hoping to get out of the new writing locale are:

  • a more defined writing regime — some of the writers I’ve spoken to doubt the need for a rigid word count or time-based commitment, but it’s something I’d like to tuck into, now that I can separate non-writing time from creative sweat hours with a physical door
  • a space to enter into a mindset of contemplation or meditation — with the baby downstairs, we’ll see how this one pans out
  • a letter writing space, that allows me to open up my thoughts to what I really want to tell someone on paper, how I want to communicate with them in that very visceral way
  • to slowly litter my desk and the wall that stretches out in front of it with little scraps of paper until I reach Merlin from the Sword in the Stone levels of hoarding craziness

So, I’ll be back, to tell how this experiment in study-use goes. Also, to report on my Goodreads goal of reading 30 books  this year — I set a low goal this time around, not to beat myself up to much. And finally, I’m joining a book club, so there will be things to report on all sorts of paper-related levels. And on that note . . . one final picture from the new apartment and our wonderful bookshelf setup.

shelf