Tag Archives: Desk


17 Sep

Happy sweet 16! Or, in other words, it’s my 16th post, which makes my dear blog one of those surly teens, who stalks about the house with its iPod buds permanently stuck in its ears, kicking at things, scowling. But I prefer to think of her as one of those slightly dorky but very nice girls, who sometimes wear glasses and reads a lot and can’t wait to get to college.

In light of being 16 weeks into my 24th year, or perhaps being 36 weeks away from being able to say I’m a quarter of a century old, I’ve decided to write about something very basic.

This is my desk. It used to belong to my mom, until I moved out and took it / she gave it to me. I used to do my homework on it in elementary school, and I think there are some pen or marker spots in the top drawer. Nevertheless, it is mine now (I think!), and as we all know, the desk of a writer is a very important thing. It can’t be too big, because then our ideas would be too spread out to be useful. But it can’t be too small, either, because then we couldn’t cross our legs underneath, and uncomfortable sitting just doesn’t make for good writing. The ideal size is cozy, with some drawers and hiding places to put things, if only to fish them out when you’re stuck in the land of writers block and are avoiding the page altogether. You can’t write when your thoughts are flying everywhere; the writer’s desk has to be a sort of home within the home, a place you can go to unfold your thoughts slowly, piece by piece, and lay them out out on an uncluttered, non-judgemental surface.

On my desk? My Paris box, which makes me feel all sorts of nice whenever I look at it. A picture of my family, which is, of course, the most important, as they keep me in food, entertainment, and good material. Pens, of which any good writer should be in abundant supply. There is always a spot for coffee, since there is always coffee. And finally, one of those little paper organizers stuffed with cards my girlfriends have sent me over the years, ones that always make me smile and make a note to call the sender later in the week. These things cushion me, they surround me, they make me who I am, and therefore, make my writing better.

So this is it! This is where the brilliance will hopefully one day spring from. I can’t wait for fall to really start, so I can sit here, drink my coffee, and watch all the leaves cover the driveway. Maybe I’ll be a real writer soon.