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Inside the Writing Cave…

What is a writing cave? It’s the generic term authors call their office or the place they go to create.

For some, it’s no more than a corner desk in the farthest part of a room. For others, it’s an adjustable table over their treadmill. And for others still, it might be a massive desk in an actual office. In the center sits an ergonomic executive chair, and lining the one wall are floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Featured prominently on those shelves will be a copy of each of their publications.

Incidentally, that last bit is my dream office. But for me, for now, it’s a corner of my sectional couch in my living room. On the end table next to me, I keep a coffee mug warmer plugged in, and atop that sits a handmade clay mug from a local artist. (For the record, I’ve convinced my other writer friends they need one of these warmers. You can check them out here:

The cup always contains my favorite tea: Yorkshire Gold. One of my besties, author Kate Bateman, turned me onto it a few years back. Now, I can’t seem to live without it. Every third paragraph or so, I take a sip and gather my thoughts for the next part of my story.

Side note, because SQUIRREL…

YG has a fantastic 40-second video featuring Sean Bean, aka Ned Stark, that makes me laugh. Give it a watch! And for additional entertainment, you can watch the one with the social-distancing teapot.

Now back to the main story…

Perched on top of the pillows next to me, Tink rests her compact little body. The occasional grunt or snore or silent-but-stinky fart escapes her, and she’ll twitch a time or two as she dreams. She’s been known to shift positions after a half hour or two. Sometimes, she’ll give me a disgusted look and flop at my feet on our overly large ottoman with a heartfelt sigh. I’ve often thought it’s because she used to have much more of my attention throughout the day, and now she has to share with my laptop. She can’t seem to grasp the concept of working for a living.

No music or television disturbs my process because if it did, my attention would wander, and I’d be jerked out of my writing groove. I need to stay in the zone, or all is lost. I repeat, ALL IS LOST!

What do I mean by this? Well, for me, I see a scene like a movie inside my head. It’s like I’m watching and listening to the action. But if I’m interrupted, I miss part of the conversation, and I can never get that back. The retelling of said conversation is never as perfect as hearing it for myself the first time.

Periodically, I’ll take breaks to give into Tink’s emotional blackmail, to chat with the hubs, or to interact with fans on social media. I’m also at the mercy of my family and friends, meaning if they call me during writing hours, I’ll take the call. You can blame them for any lackluster scenes—I certainly do. For sure writing can be a lonely existence, even with all the characters hanging out in our heads. This may be why I don’t begrudge myself the occasional phone conversation or two. On days when I put on makeup, I might even zoom!

There you have it, the look inside my writing cave. I never promised it wasn’t going to be boring. ;)

Love & Lemon Drops,


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