Tuesday, August 13, 2013
I am a writer.
I write my books on the corner of my kitchen table, which is not used for any feasting--this is my home office. Reference books stacked on one side, leaving just enough space for my laptop. A lovely bowl that’s supposed to just hold pens, winds up catching any loose knick-knack I find. My mouse pad is an upside down magazine, that also serves as my scratch pad, until it no longer holds together.
I dream of an office with a door. A room that I can walk into, shut off all outside noises, and write. (Don’t we all?)
I have dreams of all the things I want in this office.
I want a wall of bookshelves for all my books (they currently reside in storage tubs--I know, it’s horrible). I want a work table, so I can throw out my notecards when I’m plotting. A desk, and a really comfortable chair are important too.
Oh, and I want soundproof walls.
You see, I live in a tiny house with two very active children and a husband, all of them are very loud. We are looking at houses right now, trying to find the perfect place for our little family.
Including my office. It must be out there. It is. I am really tired of trying to pen my amazing romance masterpieces to the tune of SpongeBob Squarepants. I even wind up putting kids show references in my books, without intent.
It happens. More than I like to admit.
Exhibit A: My latest book, Under His Nose, about Fairy Godmothers who take on men:
“Time out.” Stephanie waved her hand in the air, moving closer, though still not within arm’s reach of either Christy or Cupid. “So you’re a fairy. Where the hell were you when I had the shittiest teen life possible? Aren’t you supposed to help kids?”
“This is real life, not Fairly Odd Parents.” Christy let out a sigh, flipping a strand of hair out of her face. “People aren’t assigned a Fairy Godmother until they’re mature enough to handle it. And even then, only some get godmother help.”
Stephanie put her hands on her hips. “Well, who decides?”
“You do, actually,” Christy said.
“Me? I don’t remember that class in school,” Steph replied.
Someday, I will have that office, where I can hide from the world and write to my heart’s content. Hopefully it’ll be my favorite place to go to escape, too.
Where do you like to run off and escape from everyday life?
Candice Gilmer leads a dangerous double life as a mommy and a writer. In between boo-boo healing and fixing broken toys, she writes stories usually to the tune of children’s television shows.
Growing up in the Midwest, Candice stays close to her family, especially the ones with basements when the tornadoes come around. She also works as a hairdresser, which she’s done for over fifteen years, and brings her laptop to work so she can write between clients.
When she’s not writing, styling hair and taking care of her family, she gets together with her girlfriends for gossip and coffee while her husband hunts ghosts with Wichita Paranormal Research Society. All in all, she stays very busy, but really, she wouldn’t have it any other way.
Well, maybe a little less children’s television.
Posted by Meg Benjamin at 4:00 AM