Writing Space

Nosey as the next guy, I suppose, ever-curious about the habits of my fellow humans in regards to how they do what they do insofar as it relates to how I’m doing what I do, I’ll confess that I read my share of interviews with writers, especially when the writers interviewed are those I admire and wish to steal from.

Not that the nuggets of insight one gains are always self-applicable – while it may be intriguing to learn that Kurt Vonnegut writes in longhand on lined yellow pads with Number 2 pencils only, no matter how many Number 2 pencils one may wear down to nubs or break on same lined yellow pads, you will not write like Kurt Vonnegut, no matter how short be your paragraphs.

Lord knows I’ve tried.

But so it goes.

Nonetheless, you can glean intriguing food for thought from a good At Home with Author So-and-So conversation, especially when it’s one writer interviewing another (The Believer Book of Writers Talking To Writers is a recent informative example). I find that reading this stuff does help kick-start my creativity, especially when the interrogated writers reveal who they steal from.

It’s also a fabulous way to procrastinate. You get the illusion of productivity (hey, I’m thinking about writing!) with none of the angst and pain of actually putting fingers to keyboard. How cool is that?

There is one trend, however, in this neck of the Rubbernecking Writers woods that gives even a first class procrastinator/technique-stealer like me pause. It comes from the land of How To Fill Up a Magazine Page, and We’ve Run Out of Ideas As a Deadline Approaches. It’s that occasionally asked question: What’s on your desk?

Granted, people do paw through Bob Dylan’s garbage, and some of the more sane among us have traipsed through Emily Dickinson’s digs to stare reverently at the quiet corner where She Did All That. But when one asks a contemporary writer, what’s on your desk? the results can be more about indulgence than entertainment and education.

The Believer magazine itself has done its share of running such pieces, and I’ve noticed that when you invite a bunch of writers to share with readers what’s on their desks, it becomes a weird kind of My Quirks Are Wilder Than Your Quirks competition. It’s as if the invited writers, well aware that they’ll be sharing the page with their peers, are bending over backwards to show off just how erudite, hip or determinedly uncool they can be.

Thus, one writer reveals that the piece de resistance crowning her desk's eclectic collection of intellectual frippery is the complete works of Foucault. In the original French. The next writer counters that he uses not a desk at all, but a chunk of quarry limestone and that his writing implement is a chisel.

Of course as a writing exercise, there’s something to be said for such an exploration. Describing the contents of one’s desktop inevitably reveals one’s character. This is what my dear friend Barbara Abercrombie was up to, in a recent blog post, wherein she invited her readers to answer That Question. Good grist for the creative writing mill.

Though I must say, perusing some of the comments she got, I was taken aback by the magnitude of itemization. Couple of writers have so much on their desks that I don’t know how they find their computers, let alone get any writing done. But far be it for me to cast aspersions on what may float another writer’s scribe-mobile. And alright, I’m game -- in the interests of community spirit and full disclosure, here is What's Been On My Desk, Until Recently:

My journals, 1996-2006 (Canadian Blueline notebooks, series A9)

File folders: Clippings, Plot Ideas, Plots Against America, Agent Jokes, To Blog, Not To Blog, The Great American Blog Post (14th draft)

Jar of Venus Paradise coloring pencils, minus #7 Cerulean

Broken Magic 8 Ball w/message “OUTLOOK NOT PROMISING” stuck in murky little window, post-it attached to side reading “DON’T BELIEVE IT!”

How the Big Guys Do It, Vol. 5

A motorized slinky

The complete works of Jessica Alba

Manscaper eyebrow tweezer

The Good Stuff, in prescription vial labeled “Happy Time”

Chelsea Hotel phone pad from room shared by Leonard Cohen and Janis Joplin w/doodles and phone number of Ray’s Pizza, framed

East of the island of lost business cards, by the river of random receipts: one square inch of mud from the Mudd Club (NYC, 1979)

Mensa membership card, revoked

Ooh-la-la, Monsieur! Magazine, 1958-1963, all photos in the original French

Hadley Hemingway’s recipe for hangover

A key to PeeWee’s Playhouse

Complete works of William Burroughs, w/syringe, rubber hose, burnt spoon, plastic bag containing old roaches

Left big toe of Jimmy Hoffa, in formaldehyde jar

Candy corn

My pet ferret, Albert (that’s Al-bare, s’il vous plait)

Andy Warhol (stuffed)

A small Zambian village called Ikkeekki

Spear heads, antelope and goat droppings (removed weekly)

Encased in glass shrine: original nose of Meg Ryan

Fart from Blazing Saddles, bronzed

The thing with feathers, plucked

My blue coffee mug.

And that was merely the left side of the desk, mind you.

Then, a little while ago, I had an epiphany about needing room for my mind to move, and thus everything listed was excised from my work space.

Today it’s currently stripped down to journal, computer and three colored pens in holder (and the blue coffee mug), because actually, I don’t believe in writing amidst such clutter. I can say with considerable pride that there is nothing on my desk presently that isn’t absolutely utilitarian – except, hang on, underneath the blue mug is a coaster, not just any coaster – it’s from The Grasshopper coffee shop in Amsterdam, and thus a keepsake and talisman of one very inspirational encounter…

Evidently I am not immune, after all, to the collecting of mementos as psychic keystones of my writing arena. So alright, might as well throw my lot in, here’s my version of that hoary query for the readers of Living the Rom-Com: if one were to hold a gun to your desk, what is the one object (of totemic, sentimental, spiritually charged and/or practical significance) you keep in your writing space, which you absolutely could not bear to have blown away?

Comments

[E.C. Henry]

Billy, keeping the complete works of Jessica Alba on your desk -- how do you expect to get any work done, because as we all know by now, she's the one...

I have a couple totem/sentimental items in my writing space. But none more meaningful to me than the "original" Monkey Man doll, that one of my mom's friends from a Wendsday Night prayer meeting group gave me when she heard I was writing a screenplay features a dubious character of that distinction. This doll, "Monkey Man" or "Chimpy" as he likes to be called, watches me write and sometimes accompanies me on road trips. Since the original, I've bought a whole box of promotional duplicates, but NONE take the place of the original.

Other items that might interst you. Two peg boards currently filled with 3 X 5 with scenes/itemes of interest for the two screenplays I'm currently working on. A "Curious George" coin bank, thumb toy, and "Curious George goes to a Chocolate Factory" 12 piece candy box, which is currently empty. An angel Chritmass tree ornament. A rustic cross ornament that looks like it came staight out of the Middle ages. An ACCO 3 hole press. An grey old stapler I got when helping clear out one of my former employers, Maytag, durring their "downsizing"/"going out-of buisness" giveaway. At anytime one of following books: "Hello He Lied," by Lynda Obst, your book on rom/coms, Karl Kglesias' two books, David Trottier, Christopher Riley, a new American Standand Dictionary. A painted pine cone from a girl friend, who never really became my girlfriend at a church I attended in the 80s and 90s. A blue candle in case I loose power. A "Too Busy for God" poem that a little old lady from a Catholic prayer meeting I used to attend in the late 80s gave me. And my nansake card, "Eric: Ever Powerful", "But they that wait upon the Lord shall reknew their stength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles. Isaiah 40:31."

Oh, yeah, and a super-cool, triangular calender looking thing, "The Character Book" by Karen Henrikson, my cousin's wife. In the "The Charcter Book, cartoon caracter "Puff" contrasts good and a bad character traits like "joyfulness v.s. self-pity" --complete with a scripture reference!

Extensive list, but believe me, I have big desk, and its not that clutered. After typing out this response, I'm supriced to see how many "little stories" each item has.

- E.C. Henry from Bonney Lake, WA

[Ray-Anne]

Hello from England. What single item? A polished piece of marble from a bleached white tiny cove on the greek ionian island of cephalonia where I spent two weeks with my sweetie in May. Sentimental? Absolutely. Precious? You bet. And yes it will be included as a prop in my next romantic comedy. Take care.

[christina]

That's easy! Stephen, my foot-high cement garden gnome. He reminds me to keep it light.

[JJ]

Nothing but the computer, keyboard, mousepad. It is extremely easy to distract me, so the most eclectic I get is the yellow sticky notes attached to my monitor that make it look sort of like a high-tech sunflower.

[MaryAn]

My bottle of water or beer, depending on what kind of day it is. If someone is pointing a gun at me, I'm thinking it's probably a beer day.

[mernitman]

E.C. I shall henceforth address you as Curious EC...

Welcome Ray-Anne: sounds like a precious 2 weeks indeed; thanks for sharing!...

Christina, clearly Stephen IS the light...

JJ, isn't that kind of gay (not that there's anything wrong with that)?

MaryAn: gun pointed at desk, sweetheart, I would never point anything loaded (other than myself) at YOU...

[Ruth]

Which desk? The desk in my office? The desk at home?
The desks themselves--at home it's the one I got when I was thirteen (and lived in Brussels but hadn't discovered Foucald), and was in a Marie Antoinette kind of mood. It lived in storage for years....
The desk in my office is my old dining room table...Jacobean type, carved up by my children's handiwork with knives.

[Writergurl]

That's easy. Nobody's taking the only picture I have of my Grandma. I'll shoot THEM first.

[Bill]

Apart from tech stuff like a computer and drives and speakers etc., where I'm writing right now has a candle and the DVDs I've recently watched or am about to watch (now: John Wayne-John Ford Collection, Sally Potter's Yes).

What's more interesting is my writing space, which is pretty much my entire condo. When writing, I'm always moving. I can't sit still for long. I have a computer in one room, another in the other room. I start writing, print what I've done, start wandering around editing, then end up at the laptop and start transcribing, then continuing the writing. I often write on my laptop, standing at the kitchen counter.

So my writing space is sort of a moveable one. I'm all over the damn place.

[mernitman]

Ruth: Jacobean carved up by little knives, interesting bed of inspiration...

Writergurl: Have you ever posted it (her)?

Bill: That's very cool. I'm getting the sense (why would I think this?) that you're a bachelor...

[blurkerbunny]

My personal office space is free of clutter. Everything on a book case, or in a drawer, and completely organized. Perhaps that's why I usually write at Barnes and Noble, or in our closet-sized darkroom-turned-computer-room. I do better with the chaos.

But, there's nothing that I couldn't do without -- not on my desk, anyway. But I cannot do without my "WRITER" hat from the Writer's store.

I saw the hat online, and thought it was cool, but didn't feel worthy enough to wear it. But after a writing project went really, really well, and I knew I could do this -- that I could be a writer -- I bought it.

And now, if I have a problem getting started, and I need to force the muse, I pull out my hat. It's a constant "you're better than this" reminder when I'm stuck. Plus, it keeps most people from asking me stupid questions ("Where's the wireless hub?") at Barnes and Noble.

[ScribeLA]

I think the most important part of the 'place where you write' is that writing actually gets done in that spot. For me, the most important thing is for everything to be in its place and ready before I get down to business. I think it's a left over quirk from UCLA, where I would study and need everything just so (my iced boba next to the high lighters, and my nalgene water bottle by my feet, with my class notes and books piled next to the paper I was writing, etc.) I like to think that in getting all 'my ducks in a row' before getting down to business, I've made a more habitable environment for my creativity to roam freely. It's like, if my work station is too chaotic, then my creativity doesn't seem to be as free. Hmmmm, did I overshare?
Scribe

[Writergurl]

Nope. That's for me, not general consumption. I adored that woman.

My 10 cousins and brother (she had 12 grandchildren) have decide that I was her favorite girl child (my cousin Scott was her favorite boy). This is proven to them by my being the only one to have that particular picture of her. (It's a studio portrait so she could have ordered more for everyone else, but she didn't.)

She sent it to me while I was staioned in Germany, along with a dress box (you know, the HUGE box that formal dresses come in) of chocolate chip cookies, baked from scratch, by her. There's a note on the back, in her spidery old lady handwriting: "I love you. Grandma Betty"

Anyone who messes with THAT... dies.

[mernitman]

Blurker: It's good to have a hat. Especially one that transforms the phrase, "I'll have to put my writing hat on" into something literal.

Scribe, you shared just right; that's interesting stuff, and I'm much the same way -- I need a clean, well-organized space before I can start to work...

WriterG, she sounds great -- chocolate chip from scratch... priceless.

[Bill]

You would be correct on the bachelor thing - I think that's pretty obvious. There's no way I could live as I do with the approval of another human being.

I'm astonished, however, at how specific other people are in their writing ways. I'm absolute chaos. I need implements and I need to get away from other people but beyo9nd that ... I'll write anywhere. (This doesn't mean I write well ... it just means I'll write anywhere.)

[Sal]

Most precious thing is a small pottery Japanese good luck owl, given to me by my daughter, and this happens to be propping up a photo I took in Cannes of Richard Linklater, Keanu Reeves and Robert Downey Jr, so that corner of my desk is the one that contains inspiration and luck.

[mernitman]

Sal: Good owl, good company.