A Room of My Own Books

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We have an “extra” room. Currently it’s kind of a catch-all space: my husbands keyboard, my books, a turtle…

Right now, my computer, and thus where I write, is in the same room as the TV. This is incredibly dangerous because the TV is shiny and I have limited will power. When will power doesn’t work, move. And that’s why we’ve decided to rearrange the catch-all room so that I can do my writing in there.

The room still has to catch things, however rearranging the furniture will give me the space I need. It’s a great start and I’m excited.

It’s a little different from what I envisioned for my writing room when I was a kid. Some little girls plan their weddings, I dreamed of the library I would have when I grew up.

I’ve always had a loose relationship with space. The place I’m walking to is always closer in my head, and rooms inexplicably grow in my mind to fit all sorts of furniture. So, having a two-story library in a one-story house made perfect sense. Bookshelves lined all four walls, leaving room for the door and the large window that bathed the room in yellow light.

I couldn’t decide on a fireplace. Having one made sense, since I would have a large leather chair to read in. The chair, by the way, was next to the giant globe…because who doesn’t need one?

My writing desk, somehow sans computer, was a beautiful, dark wood placed in the center of the room. I’m pretty sure the room was carpeted.

Did I watch a lot of English period piece dramas as a kid, you ask. Perhaps.

The writing space I’m creating won’t have a globe, but it will be mine and have books…and a turtle…and that’s all I really need.

What’s your dream writing space?

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7 thoughts on “A Room of My Own Books

  1. Kim

    I have a dream writing space, a beautiful room lined with bookshelves WITH a fireplace AND a globe. Unfortunately, all of those books are too tempting. I write a little, decide it’s awful and pull down a book. Easy access to fabulous books only serves to confirm my suspicions. I do way more reading than writing. Some of us are destined to be readers. It’s not the room’s fault. If I lived in a hut, a teepee or a damp cave, I’d still be a reader.

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