Sacred Writing Spaces

I started serious writing out of sheer desperation! I was freelancing in Manhattan at the time, and my boss was involved in negotiating a multi-million dollar merger. He was never around and I was bored to tears. So I began to write…and write…and write….HR knew what I was up to and one manager used to ask me – have you finished a chapter I can read? They gave me a long rope because they knew I did not compromise on the quality of my regular work…and perhaps because they admired someone who could actually dive into serious creative production in the midst of a busy investment firm…oh, and by the way, this was in the World Trade Center! I think of Dostoevsky, for instance, who wrote desperately in his jail cell, hoping to make enough to pay off his creditors…so some of us can write anywhere. That said, other writers need to be ensconced in their nest before they can write…different strokes for different folks is what it is – thank you Eleanor Parker Sapia and Sally Cronin, for pointing me to this interesting post…

The Writing Life Blog

I know many writers who are quite content to write in coffee shops and diners, between their kids’ dental appointments and soccer games. I know a few who can write on the bus, subway, or in between meetings. I am in awe of them. I’ve tried writing outside the home and it doesn’t work for me. The inevitability of major distraction is a fact: I need a sacred writing space.

I recently read two blog posts written by male writers, who said that the idea of a sacred writing space is pure hogwash, ridiciculous. I disagree, and I’m not a diva, thank you very much. The only sounds and images I want to hear and see whilst writing must come from my imagination; directly from my story and characters. How can I hear what my heroine is saying amidst singing baristas, crying babies, and people who can’t seem to speak…

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