Jonathan’s post reminded me that I’m always interested in the workspaces of other writers — maybe I’m just plain nosy. But I find it fascinating how some writers require a pristine desk, while others thrive amidst what appears to be chaos and clutter. I’m in the midst of a move myself, leaving my longtime apartment on East 29th Street in Manhattan for the wilds of Green-Wood Heights, Brooklyn, so I can’t show my bookshelves, which are in the process of being remorselessly culled. But I can show my desk:
There you can see my printer, my keyboard and monitor, with the iconic figures of Batman and Don Quixote standing by. Framed on the wall behind is the cover of my first novel, Waking Beauty, and my MA diploma from City College.
Dangling in the upper left corner are badges from past cons, and atop the housing of my computer are more iconic figures, talismans from my personal mythology whose benign influence is not to be lightly dismissed on tough writing days.
Let’s take a closer look at this magical, motley crew:
You might think me a superstitious soul on the basis of this menagerie, and though I wouldn’t like to cop to it on a larger scale, I probably am, like a lot of writers, somewhat superstitious in the way that baseball players can be — once you go through a hitting slump or writer’s block, you are apt to resort to all kinds of magical thinking to avoid a repetition.
I’d love a tour of other workspaces…