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Abstract

craps of paper, and a slew of random books. My trusty Thesaurus ever vigilant by my side and an always-cold cup of coffee right there.I have my phone and my Kindle close at hand. One is set to FB, the other is set to Pinterest. Both are set to give me some type of inspiration. It doesn’t always work, but that doesn’t keep me from trying. I have stacks of notebooks sitting on the floor, each with lists of oddities that float through my head. When you’re an old broad, decades of weird stuff just seems to come out of nowhere.I usually write at night. It’s quieter, even with the Mr. watching TV. It’s more intimate. It seems to beacon the “other-realm” to come forth and dance with my soul. I see characters in the shadows. I smell Grandma’s peach cobbler in the kitchen. I hear whispers in the dark.MentallyI open little doors inside my mind. Tidbits of information I’ve gathered throughout the day. Stories that I can’t seem to shake. Snippets of dialogue that caught my attention. I take it all in. I use it to form scenes that have never existed before. I bring alternative realities to life.I look at pictures and paintings, letting the images merge in my mind. I listen to music and montages, searching for ways to bring reality and fantasy together as one. I put together memories and might-have-been’s, giving them all a life of their own.I pry myself out of the day’s “normalcies” and put myself i

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n a place of images and ideas. I begin to ask questions about things that I don’t believe, I can’t fathom, or I didn’t understand. I wonder and wander in a world of unknown outcomes and create my own answers.EmotionallyI try to use my emotions to my advantage. I turn happiness and/or sadness into poetic forms. I embrace fear to help me write deeper stories. I fight depression with freewrites that send that emotion out into the world and out of my brain.I try to keep my emotions in check when I’m writing. I’ve found, however, that many times my writing can change whatever mood I happen to be in. I’ve been in a great mood but got depressed writing about something I had no control over. I’ve been in a serious mood when something goofy takes over and I get silly. I’ve even written a couple of pieces that came from a dark place I didn’t even know was there.The one emotion that renders me helpless is anger. I cannot write if I’m angry. I’ve tried using it to form new ideas, but I’ve never been able to conquer that emotion as a writer. I can barely deal with it as a human. It’s my one true weakness.Where do you write?Now I pass this same question onto you. Where do you write? Do you have a ritual or need a special space to make things come alive? Tell us about it. I’d love to know where it is that brings out your creative side.© Christine Graves 2020</article></body>

Where I Write

Sometimes, it’s not just a physical location.

I recently ran across a writing prompt that struck my muse. The publication asked it’s readers to talk about their writing space. I loved the idea and thought long and hard about it. The thing is, I really had to dig deep for an answer as I had more than one. Here’s what I came up with.

Where do I write?

That depends on what you mean. Are you asking where I write physically? Mentally? Emotionally? It might sound strange, but I’m one of those people who have to be in at least two of these realms in order to write. But I do have a special place for each answer.

Physically

I write at my laptop in my living room. In my chair next to the the Mr. He’ll watch his favorite shows as I tap away on my keyboard. We’re in two different worlds, but we’re still right there with each other. I won’t say I always get a lot of writing done, but it does happen.

I have a wooden TV tray that I keep my laptop on. I have a side table that is filled to the brim with pens, scraps of paper, and a slew of random books. My trusty Thesaurus ever vigilant by my side and an always-cold cup of coffee right there.

I have my phone and my Kindle close at hand. One is set to FB, the other is set to Pinterest. Both are set to give me some type of inspiration. It doesn’t always work, but that doesn’t keep me from trying. I have stacks of notebooks sitting on the floor, each with lists of oddities that float through my head. When you’re an old broad, decades of weird stuff just seems to come out of nowhere.

I usually write at night. It’s quieter, even with the Mr. watching TV. It’s more intimate. It seems to beacon the “other-realm” to come forth and dance with my soul. I see characters in the shadows. I smell Grandma’s peach cobbler in the kitchen. I hear whispers in the dark.

Mentally

I open little doors inside my mind. Tidbits of information I’ve gathered throughout the day. Stories that I can’t seem to shake. Snippets of dialogue that caught my attention. I take it all in. I use it to form scenes that have never existed before. I bring alternative realities to life.

I look at pictures and paintings, letting the images merge in my mind. I listen to music and montages, searching for ways to bring reality and fantasy together as one. I put together memories and might-have-been’s, giving them all a life of their own.

I pry myself out of the day’s “normalcies” and put myself in a place of images and ideas. I begin to ask questions about things that I don’t believe, I can’t fathom, or I didn’t understand. I wonder and wander in a world of unknown outcomes and create my own answers.

Emotionally

I try to use my emotions to my advantage. I turn happiness and/or sadness into poetic forms. I embrace fear to help me write deeper stories. I fight depression with freewrites that send that emotion out into the world and out of my brain.

I try to keep my emotions in check when I’m writing. I’ve found, however, that many times my writing can change whatever mood I happen to be in. I’ve been in a great mood but got depressed writing about something I had no control over. I’ve been in a serious mood when something goofy takes over and I get silly. I’ve even written a couple of pieces that came from a dark place I didn’t even know was there.

The one emotion that renders me helpless is anger. I cannot write if I’m angry. I’ve tried using it to form new ideas, but I’ve never been able to conquer that emotion as a writer. I can barely deal with it as a human. It’s my one true weakness.

Where do you write?

Now I pass this same question onto you. Where do you write? Do you have a ritual or need a special space to make things come alive? Tell us about it. I’d love to know where it is that brings out your creative side.