My husband created this space thinking it would be perfect for reading a book. He set up a torchiere lamp to provide plenty of light. He found a lovely shelf to house the overflow of books from the shelf he built me a few months ago.
But somehow, I never seem to curl up with a paperback in this spot. Just my laptop. And the writing of a friend or my WIP. Not that it matters. I am still reading.
Of course, sometimes I have to fight for the right to sit here. It does, after all, catch the midday sun. And the chair is perfect for lounging. Over sized and comfortable, it’s the ideal spot for cleaning up your fur. Or your writing.
In this spot I have edited words of love and despair, history and disappointment. I’ve read about lives filled with voodoo, drugs, ghosts, dragons, dreams, gold and music. I can read or write just about anyplace, but when I’m editing, this is where I want to be. Right here in my corner, the sun on my shoulders, birds chirping in the yard beyond, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves outside my sliding glass door.
Next time you hear that I’m editing or critiquing, picture me here. It’s the place I go to unwind with a great story, maybe even yours.
What’s your special place?