Voila! A New Writing Space

Also, details about this year's French Care Package for paid subscribers.

I am happy to be back from work obligations at home and to be settling in to my new writing space, most of which was put together before I left but which I haven’t been able to use until now. First, though, big thanks to mon mari, John, who generously held down the substack fort while I was gone. I also appreciated his posts as much as anyone else. He’s a quiet guy, so it gives me a chance to discover what’s going on in his head.

But before I get to my new space, a bit about subscriptions and care packages. For those of you who have paid subscriptions and those who might be interested in them, here are a few advantages: 1. Within the next few weeks, I’m going to paywall the “how” posts that describe our various attempts to buy our french home for those thinking of replicating our efforts, and 2. The French care package. If you paid for a subscription by the end of July last year, you should have received one of these. If you’re thinking about it for the first time, check out this post to find out what’s in store for anyone who buys or renews a paid subscription to this substack by July 29. I’m already on the search for items for this years package, which will be filled with some similar finds from last year—soaps, stationery, pens—and lots of new things. Our local market features a jewelry seller who sells a tiny “mystery package,” for 1 or 2 euro. Definitely planning to include one of those and very much looking forward to spending the next several weeks combing stores, brocantes, and vide greniers for more to pack.

But without further ado, here is my new writing space, where I am currently working on this post and on a conference paper I am presenting in London next week at Great Writing, an international creative writing conference I love and have attended over the years, when I could afford it, which was rare. This year, it’s just a hop over the channel so I’m really looking forward to attending.

I bought the painted burgundy desk, the floral screen, and the laptop riser from a neighbor just down the street who was moving. It fits the space perfectly. I plan to add more storage as I go along, probably a small book case or two that will fit on the side to provide easy access to whatever books I need for current projects, as well as some type of corkboard and other items to personalize the space. Is it small? Yes. Is it all mine, to sit and think in, to write in, to make entirely my own? Also yes, and that is what matters.

A few thoughts about writing spaces. I have worked in smaller spaces and I have worked in larger. I have written in cafes and I have written in cars. In the first eight years of our marriage, John and I shared a writing desk, which actually worked because that was the space we had and because we write at completely different times of the day. He writes in the pre-dawn hours and I work much later, so we were never at the desk at the same time. When we moved to our 120 year old foursquare in 2005, however, there was enough space for each of us. I first made mine in our sun room, a light filled space I appreciated for years and where I wrote my first novel. But it didn’t have a door and sat at the bottom of the stairs to the second floor, leaving me wide open to interruption as our boys ran up and down. So when our oldest graduated college and moved out on his own, he kindly suggested I take his room on the second floor. The space—windows in the trees and overlooking the neighborhood—and the privacy was heavenly and I enjoyed it for several years. But then we moved again to prepare for our France purchase, to the 2 bedroom we live in in the US and my space shrank again, to a desk in our guest room, a space that works fine until I lose it, aka when we have guests (which, do not get me wrong, I love having).

At first, it looked like we were facing the same situation with our two bedroom Quillan house. We very much wanted to encourage guests but we also needed a space to write. I was envisioning a tall secretary each in the guest room and our bedroom that we could close up when needed, hiding away the paper mess that is often endemic to a writing space. It wasn’t ideal-secretaries feel a little stiff to me- but I couldn’t think what else would work.

And then, when we did our walk through at the end of last July, we re-discovered a part of the house we had forgotten. Two large storage spaces at opposite corners in the back, one John will be setting up as his space for painting and writing and one I have already claimed as mine. Over the years I have determined that it’s not so much the size of the space but the privacy and the personality—a place where I can think and write uninterrupted and customize as my own.

Even better: when I sat down to write at this desk the first time, I opened the drawer to discover a bar of Poulain Intense Chocolate Noir. Was this ever a good omen—ever since I first listened to Julianna Baggot’s audio series Efficient Creativity, which advocates for munching on a few squares of chocolate when you write, to replace the stores of glucagon used by the creating brain, I have kept a small stash of dark chocolate at my desk.

Let me tell you, a few pieces of Poulain Noir Extra are just the ticket. It is truly divine. Far better than the Aldi dark chocolate I nibble on at home—sorry, Aldi, I still love you for other items (and, unbelieveably, we have one in Quillan). If my neighbor hadn’t accidentally left the Poulain bar behind, I wouldn’t even have known how delicious it was.

NOTE: I must explain here that I have a beautiful office at the University of Central Arkansas, where I teach, a multi-windowed corner office that I am extremely lucky to have. I get a lot of work done there, a lot of meeting with students and colleagues as well, but I prefer to keep my other work space separate from my writing space. I am very easily distracted from my writing and separating the two spaces seems to be the best way to train my suggestible brain that “here you think and write,” and “here, you answer emails and write syllabi, assignments and reports and meet with students.” It’s just the way I am.