One of the alleged benefits of writing is that you can do it anywhere. Literally anywhere. But the reality is that professional authors (or those who aspire to be) quickly learn that some places are better than others for knuckling down and completing the next chapter in your magnum opus.
No one venue works for everyone.
I have author friends who like to work in noisy coffee shops surrounded by grungy-hoodied students and hipster-bearded failed musicians. They find the hustle and bustle stimulating and are somehow able to tune everything out. Others require absolute silence – the slightest sound gets under their skin like a dripping tap at night and they quickly find themselves descending into the sort of authorial madness last seen in Stephen King’s The Shining.
I’m somewhere in between. I prefer to work in silence but often find the presence of others stimulating. I have a comfy office at home but occasionally feel compelled to abandon it and walk down to the local library with my laptop to spend a few hours in the company of fellow book lovers (as well as feral teenagers, the occasional drug user, hobo, and crazy-eyed evangelist).
I work in central London and you can often see me on the Tube reading through edit notes, usually with my face stuck in someone’s armpit – it’s one way to (mentally) escape the bullpen-like crush, I suppose. In the summer, I like to take my laptop to the cricket pitch and work on the sidelines when I’m not actually playing. There’s something wonderful about sitting on the grass and thinking through plot ideas with bees buzzing among the wildflowers and the crack of willow on leather resounding across the outfield.
Every writer needs to get into the ‘zone’ – that sweet spot when the entire processing power of your mind is engaged in the story. The right environment is critical to enabling that. What constitutes the right environment varies dramatically from writer to writer, though sometimes it is a matter of necessity rather than choice.
John le Carré wrote his debut, Call for the Dead, on train rides to work from Buckinghamshire to London. Agatha Christie and Maya Angelou both enjoyed writing in hotel rooms – there’s just something about being locked away in a room with clean sheets and an en-suite bathroom with room service just a phone call away. Christie was also famous for writing whilst soaking in a large Victorian bathtub; Benjamin Franklin went one further and wrote in the nude, a habit I would personally discourage. James Joyce wrote in bed, lying on his stomach – otherwise known to the rest of us as ‘sleeping’. JK Rowling famously wrote the first Harry Potter book in The Elephant House, a café in Edinburgh. The café is now a pilgrimage site for fans from around the world.
Virginia Woolf had it right when she said that every writer needs a “room of one’s own” to be productive. But there are times when inspiration can be better found in a less secluded spot. Frankly, it’s whatever works!
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