Displaced Author on the Loose…

House with flood damage concept with water reflections.
This isn’t my house… but you get the idea.

About a month ago it rained so hard that our basement flooded. Water just came pouring in because we had installed our French trench incorrectly. Several things happened immediately following the flood:

  • The carpet, a complete loss, is ripped out and sent to the dump
  • My husband and I struggle to decide what we want to replace it with – this takes an entire week
  • We order new 100% waterproof flooring – because water happens, baby
  • Reinstall the trench – let’s just say, it’s a work in progress
  • All of the furniture moves upstairs to the living room
  • In short, chaos.

This is where I remind myself that ‘life happens’ and it’s really more about how we handle A, B, or C that matters most. Sounds very mature, right?

whah-im-such-a-baby

What I haven’t said yet is every day – every single day – I have held back a primal desire to scream my head clean off. I’m a creative person.  And for the last month I have been sharing my very public writing space with everyone.

That means the television is on – a lot – and people (offspring, husband, dog, 2 cats, even the guinea pig) are always in my writing space. Always. Kind of felt like this…

your-family
This isn’t my family… this is a family celebrating a 50th wedding anniversary in 1916… that’s why they look like that…

Now, to some of my writer friends, this wouldn’t bother them at all. They would happily ignore everyone and everything and submerge themselves in their work and be productive that way.

Me? I’m attracted to the people I love … and I’m a little ADD as well. So, each and every time someone comes into the room, I look up – or lose focus – or try to look busy so they’ll go away. But inevitably, what ends up happening is I’m distracted. Because, dang-nabbit, writing is hard! Mostly, I would rather do anything else but write.

 

Does that surprise anyone?

 

I would rather do anything else but put words on the page, but I love it when those words are finally there.  Don’t judge me. Many authors before me have said the same thing: I hate writing, but I love having written… http://quoteinvestigator.com/2014/10/18/on-writing/

oh-for-a-place-to-set-my-butt-downand-writeand-write-and-write-oh-for-the-place-to-not-become-a-haven-forall-the-crap-in-my-lifeI think the screenwriters have got the right idea. They all sit in the Writing Room until they finish their project. No telephones, no internet. No one walking through their space. No potty breaks (this is how it used to be. In my imaginary writing room, there would be a potty, because… well because!). No distractions!

 

I will probably never have a real, honest to God, Writing Room; but, yesterday afternoon we received a call. Our new flooring has arrived! It will be installed today! That’s the closest I’m going to get at the moment.

The wind may blow and trees may crack and fall – even though power may flicker and fade – but I will be happy.

 

So, here’s my question to you, Do you have a place to call your own where you can write, or craft, be by yourself? If so, let’s see it! Post a picture of your creative space and comment how you came about creating it.

 

As for me, I’m heading downstairs to install my new floor.

6 thoughts on “Displaced Author on the Loose…”

  1. I relate to this post, because in March 2016, our dishwasher failed, flooding our one-story home. We lived in a hotel for a month. My years in journalism kicked in; I made many submissions on my laptop, using my Kindle for rough drafts. I can write under just about any circumstances, sensing that deadline and the editor’s shadow over me. Except not on an airplane — I have a phobia of flying, which a couple of margaritas takes care of, but my mind’s not on writing! Best wishes, Sharon; it does get better.

    1. That’s great Sylvia! I wish I were that person – I work hard to be that person – maybe one day I will be that person. I will say – deadlines work! I LOVE deadlines because I do work under pressure. I used to hate to fly, as well. Bloody Mary’s fixed that for me. 😉

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