A Place of My Own

✨The evolution of my writing space and few of my favorite things✨

Dream Big is about my writing journey. Approximately every two weeks, I post about finding writing in my 40s, embracing a creative life, writing my first novel, and the everyday moments that inspire me as I juggle family life and my dreams of becoming a published author.

I’m beyond grateful for your company on my writing journey, and I love hearing from you. Please hit reply or comment below if you’d like to connect.

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➡️Readers, I've included a quick one-question poll at the end of this post to help me get to know you better. Thank you if you have a moment to complete it!

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Just over five years ago, I enrolled in an online self-paced beginner’s creative writing class. I didn’t know what I was doing or where it would lead; I only knew I was honoring a tiny voice so deep in my heart that I thought I might be mistaking its whispers for a different message. 

I wanted to write. 

A book.

Someday. 

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At the time, I worked at a local elementary school; I didn’t imagine writing as much more than something I did on the side—a hobby. And yet, it was a quiet leap of the heart. I worked on assignments during my lunch break and edited to the sounds of children playing at recess. In the last months of 2019, I spent many evenings on the sofa, MacBook propped on my lap, learning how to write a story.

A few months later, with more hours to fill those pandemic days, I thought: "Maybe I could finish my writing course sooner than I planned. While my boys attended kindergarten, fourth grade, and sixth grade on screens, and I attempted to teach my own students in a similar manner, I continued writing from the couch when I could. It seemed to be the only spot mostly removed from the traffic and energy of a household of five with nowhere to go.

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This arrangement worked for a while . . . until it didn’t. I had decided not to return to teaching to focus on my writing; the couch wasn’t cutting it anymore. An intermediate writing course soon followed, with more physical curricular materials that needed a home. I needed some shelves and a real desk.

A built-in desk off our kitchen saw me through the rest of that writing course and the beginning of my work with The Novelry. Noise-canceling headphones proved invaluable, but noise proved the least of my distractions. There is something about being a mother at the center of a busy household. I am attuned to every noise, movement, and need in this house, and it is nearly impossible to shut any of them out.

Despite my efforts to focus from my workstation, my peripheral vision caught my boys leaving dishes in the sink when they should have been placed in the dishwasher, water splashed across the countertop unnoticed, and children standing in front of the open fridge, looking for meals I hadn’t yet made. It was less that anyone truly “needed” me or was consciously interrupting me. Most of the time, they tried very hard to be quiet, but my family’s mere presence was enough to keep me from finding flow. 

I had outgrown another writing space.

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Finally, after a few weekends of cleaning, reorganizing, and assembling, I have a new, dedicated writing space tucked in a quiet(er) corner of our home. It’s cozy, with a window that spills California sunshine over my desk and provides a view of the avocado tree we planted a few years back. My books are within reach, as are many items that make me smile and nurture my creativity. 

This space, which is (mostly) undisturbed by the rest of my life, is for growing and creating. It belongs to the writer in me.

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• See that pink locker? One of my best friends, whom I’ve known since kindergarten, sent this to me. She used to keep one on her desk when we were girls; I always wanted one of my own. I may or may not keep a stash of dark chocolate inside.

• The picture on the locker is of my middle son, who is now 15 and assembled my new desk nearly independently. I handed him the right screws.

• Some of the best writing advice ever sits in front of the pink locker, a thoughtful gift from a different friend.

• This candle is bold and hilarious all at once, a reminder to take my dreams seriously AND maintain a healthy sense of humor.

• Potential comp titles: Some are definites, while others I have yet to read and assess. This is an ever-evolving pile.

• Craft books: Seven Drafts by Allison K. Williams and Before and After the Book Deal by

  Courtney Maum
  are new. I am very excited to dig into those as I immerse myself in draft 2 of my novel.

• Ceramic pen pot: My children’s art is my favorite.

• Garfield: My younger sister and I share some funny history with this guy. Long story short, we were snooping through a closet where our mother stashed Christmas/birthday gifts when we found Garfield. Those slippered paws! I loved him immediately. But—my sister received him instead! The original is long gone, but I recently received this replica with a note that read, “At long last, this guy is yours.” My sister and I had a good laugh.

  Garfield, along with the locker and the homemade ceramics, reminds me of childhood, a time of creative play and freedom from self-doubt.

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I’m unsure how long I will have to write to consider myself more than a beginner; there is always more to learn. Yet, as I sit at my desk with a cup of tea, I smile to myself: I have arrived—and not by any subjective measure of success or luck, like writing a bestseller (although that would be pretty great).

I have arrived at a point where I take my dreams a tad more seriously than I did yesterday, primed for what they demand tomorrow, and continue to honor the whispers that started this whole thing.

Thanks for being here.

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Quick 1-question poll:

While we’re on the topic of where we read and write…