I wish I was one of those writers who could work anywhere. Cafe, subway, outside…
But I am a creature of habit (and night and chocolate and curmudgeoning), so my writing rituals revolve around landmarks. First, I need my keyboard and he prefers sunlit spaces and quiet and clear access to windows. Next, I need my cold cup of coffee, which I will look to with frequent remorse and contemplate all the lost opportunities with which I could’ve filled it up with HOT coffee. Alas!
Strange antiques populate my parents’ home. In my writing desk is a tiny door that does not open. On this side table is a porcelain honeycomb that has no honey, a photo album that changes pictures with seemingly no human help and a basket where I once hid my Halloween candy.
And, of course, I need a Panda. Sometimes he looms, blinks and yawns. Most of the time he remains a dormant bear.
What do you surround yourself with when you write?