That Special Thinking Place

Do you have a special thinking place in your home, a place where you can ponder a difficult plot twist, work out a supper menu for guests or maybe chant a meditation mantra?

When I was a kid I used to escape to the end of our garden. It was only a small garden but through my little eyes it was a long way from our house. I used to sit on our swing and lose myself in the movement of the sky. This is a much-cherished photo of that swing with my big sister and me.

These days I have a few favourite places to sit in our house. A lot of my writing is done at the dining table. It’s a substantial piece of furniture which Mr A had made from old, oak floor joists. If we ever have to shift it we’ll need an elephant and tackle.

For inspiration I sometimes sit halfway down the stairs. The landing window looks out over the tops of the fir trees. I love that view... even if it does make me feel a bit like Kermit’s nephew, [a TV Muppet Show reference!]

The best view of all is from our bedroom window. The sun sets behind a row of poplar trees and some evenings the colours are so amazing I can hardly believe they’re real. This is my special place for a quiet thought, a hope, a prayer...

...and now I have a new favourite place which takes me right back to my childhood... only in a more sedate fashion. We’ve bought a garden swing-seat.

I thought it would be an ideal place to get on with some serious writing but there’s only one problem. This is the view...

Where’s your favourite place?

   

What I need is a Lifestyle Guru

How does anyone manage to work from home and stay motivated with no boss looking over their shoulder? I can do it for a short time but it only takes one week of distractions for the routine to fall apart. Friends and family tell me I’m being too hard on myself. They say that I can expect to fall behind a little especially as I have a husband who’s recovering from his latest whack of chemotherapy, a brand new grandson, a housebound mother and Josh-the-dog (who at the moment has a bucket on his head because of a fox bite that just won’t heal!). Nevertheless I decided to sign up to a couple of online self-help workshops.

Merrilee Faber’s Creativity Workshop

And

Paula Yoo’s National Picture Book Writing Week (NaPiBoWriWee)

For the Creativity Workshop I’ve been asked to list out my issues and post them on this blog. [You see, I always do as I’m told, Merrilee!] But while I was listing them out I decided that they’re not just relevant to my writing. They’re relevant to my life and I’m curious to know if that’s the same for both writers and non-writers, and especially those who are trying to work from home. So here are my issues:

• Seeing projects through to the end: I have files bulging with half-finished stories, a bag that’s over-flowing with half-finished knitting, a dress that’s needed the bottom turning up since 1999 and still has the price tag attached... I could go on but I’m sure you’ve got the drift.

• Not flitting from one task to another: This is closely related to the above issue. Since starting to write this post I’ve bathed the dog’s wound, tried to clean a pen mark off my beige leather bag (I love that bag - any suggestions anyone?), written my Day 2 Picture Book Story for Paula’s NaPiBoWriWee, loaded and run the dishwasher, washed the sheets and consumed coffee with a large piece of treacle tart.

• Not being distracted by the family and home: In other words, I need to discover how to successfully work from home and be a caring wife, daughter, mother and dog owner. Tough huh!

If anyone can give me solutions to the above issues I have to say I’ll be amazed, grateful but amazed!

Help! I have a newly retired husband?

Suggestions in the comments box below, please.

Cups of tea appear beside my laptop at regular intervals, with a biscuit balanced on the saucer and his 'next new project' to be discussed. My husband has retired from work. It's not that he doesn't support my writing, it's just that he's there... all the time. I used to be able to stare at the window for an hour or more if an idea needed thinking through, or sit at the computer all day if the ideas were flowing. Now we have lunch at lunch time, a set routine to the day and he's trying out things in the kitchen. A few weeks ago it was the making of pastry. Every afternoon my cups of tea arrived with tarts of varying texture and colour placed on the saucer. By the end of the week he was moderately satisfied with his dough technique but issued threats that trials would begin again just as soon as I'd bought more flour. He's a determined man. This week he cleaned out the kitchen cupboards. Yes, yes, I can hear you all slapping your cheeks in envy and amazement but, no, it's not as wonderful as it sounds. I can't find a thing.

It was the right time for Rod to retire. He struggled through last year trying to get into work while he was on the Valcade chemotherapy treatment. When he was not well enough for work he lay around feeling guilty. Even he agrees that he's earned a well-deserved rest. At the moment he's halfway through a course of Melphalan taken at home in pill form. As I commented in an earlier post, thankfully he's tolerating it quite well. He's been out walking Josh the dog most days and that's my benchmark for his fitness level.

Which brings me to another problem linked with his retirement. I hardly ever walk the dog anymore. I'm becoming increasingly unfit and I've put on weight. I could go with him but this way I get a full hour's concentrated writing time. I do miss the people. Dog walking is good for writers. There are so many fascinating characters on the park. If you have a dog they always want to stop and chat and there's often a whole pageful of incidents and observations to jot down in my notebook when I get home.

Of course I still walk Josh when Rod is having a bad chemo day but as I no longer walk him regularly I'm out of the routine. It's a real ordeal to have to pull on all those layers of clothing and go out, especially on a cold winter's morning. Josh is a big dog. He pulls me along on the ice and he always prefers to walk across the muddiest fields on the park. But as soon as I'm out there on my favourite field, surrounded by frost covered trees and birdsong, I feel totally exhilerated... Yes, you're right. Tomorrow I'll go with him. The writing will just have to wait.

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