The New Yorker posted this video about the legendary writer Gay Talese’s underground writing bunker.
No windows, no phone, no distraction. I have to admit, I’m jazzed!
I actually own a home office. Of maybe I should say: owned. I picked soothing colours of paint for the walls, dragged in a giant retro desk. I taped a giant map of the world to one wall, I put up a big picture depicting Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas on another. Inspiration guaranteed.
But somewhere along the line my home office became more of a deserted yet chaotic storage hole. The map of the world (including all my precious been-there-flags) got hidden behind an extra closet. My desk is hidden under piles of read books, old magazines and newspapers, scraps, articles, in short, the heap of old trash I euphemistically refer to as my archive. The Fear and Loathing picture is still hanging in there though.
My writing usually takes place wherever my laptop happens to be. Usually that would be at the kitchen or the dinner table. Which is, unfortunately, also where I read all those papers and magazines, watch videos or just waste time. And sometimes the wasting time thing sneaks into my writing time.
Seeing this video brought back my yen for a genuine writing space. A burrow I can just crawl into when all I want to do is write. A cave where I can paper the walls with inspirational collages whenever I want. The kind of office that allows no mail, phone and definitely no Tetris, Packman or Bubbles. No boyfriends, friends, relatives, pets or cleaning ladies. Maybe some ice cream. Or a small glass of some creativity stimulating beverage. But that’s as far as it goes.
Personally, I kinda like a good window though.
When I clean up and pimp my “writing lair”, I’ll post a picture.