Let me begin by saying two things:
- Miss Rosemary’s Novel Ideas received the highest number of hits in its history on Tuesday. I thank you all for reading.
- I love London.
My college is situated right in the middle of Regent’s Park (I’m not kidding, check it out) which is in the centre (note the spelling) of London and means I am right near a whole bunch of really cool stuff.
But details on that can be found on the London Blog.
However all this international travel, getting used to classes again (what? I have to do school work?) and realizing that when people say the British can’t cook they are not lying is affording very little time to write. This does not by any means hinder the progress of Ensnared on Serial Central (you can read Part Three HERE). Posts will be updated accordingly on my end and the other stories are developing very nicely (well done ladies).
But this brings me to the question of where and when I find the appropriate setting for writing. When I am home in New York, I have a number of places. I.e. -my bedroom (the most common area), the living room, the screened-in porch (pronounced as “screen din” by most members of the family) and the backyard patio when it’s sunny out and I want to channel my Italian heritage and try to get a tan. Note the use of the word “try.” At school I frequent the pond past the library and other various hidden places around campus. Here, I have yet to find the right spot, and my writing is suffering.
Which brings me to wonder what encompasses the “right spot.” What about my surroundings makes me tick as a writer?
The answer lies in privacy.
It doesn’t matter what walls our gardens are surrounding me when I write. It doesn’t matter the beautiful or hideous scenery. I don’t give a hoot for the trees or the plants. All I care about is if people are watching me.
If people are watching me, I think they’re wondering what I’m doing. If they see my pen scratching, they want to know what I’m writing. “Is she a novelist?” “Is she writing a poem?” “Is she journaling?” “Is she writing about me?” “I’ll just go have a look-sie over her shoulder and find out.”
GET AWAY I AM WRITING YOU CAN READ IT WHEN IT’S PUBLISHED!!!!!
Of course most passers-by don’t really think like that, but those are the sort of situations that stumble through my head when I write around others.
I don’t write outside or in the living room if the family is home; I’ll stay in my room as the preferred alternative. The reason I like the pond is that it is set down a hill and basically completely obscured from the path; I am less likely to be disturbed. Why was I able to write in this new dorm room today but not yesterday? My roommate (whom I adore) wasn’t here during the “Writing Hours.”
There is something about solidarity that makes me write. I suppose, if I were to psychoanalyze myself, it has to do with – besides the paranoid scenarios above – focus. I care so much about my characters and stories that I want to give them my whole attention. I don’t want to risk being concerned with what other people might be thinking about me as I write. That takes away from the writing itself. I don’t want to be the mother who only listens to her kids with one ear. They want their story told and I want to do it well. If other people are around me, I can’t listen to what my characters are trying to say and do. And without them, where would my writing be? Best to give them my all and not risk being distracted.
Question of the day: Where is your writing place? Can you write around others?
Moral of the story: If you see me writing, scram!