A room with a view

Tuesday, October 26, 2010 at 3:10 pm (Cottage Industry, Hack for Hire, Writing by Ear)
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With my office feng shui still in process, I have temporarily relocated to our third floor. (I’m managing quite nicely on a small desk with a couple file bins and reference books — why did I need a better office again?) I love it up here because it’s bright (from 2 skylights and an opaque arched stained glass window) and warm (so far, anyway). I hate it up here because it’s a cluttered mess, complete with cast-off furniture, unpacked boxes from our move 5 years ago, and 4 bulky unfinished cubby doors waiting to be installed. Oh, and occasionally a mousetrap or two in the eeves that need to be…emptied.

It does have a charming, though amusing, view out the one small window:

Who put that pole there? And does anyone know a good pole climber? I’d love to tack a pretty little decorative doodad or an inspirational message smack in the middle of it.

What no wife of a writer can ever understand is that
a writer is working when he’s staring out of the window.
~ Burton Rascoe

 

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I read a book

Wednesday, October 20, 2010 at 9:26 pm (Writing by Ear)
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I say that like it’s an accomplishment. I read a book. I read my first book at about age 5; it was an accomplishment then.

But today, today still I feel like I did something grand, because the last time I read a book was, I dunno, last year maybe? Maybe just a couple books that whole year.

It’s crazy.

I am a reader. I am who I am because I am a reader. I do what I do for a living because I am a reader. I breathe. I sleep. I eat. I read. All with about equal ease and agility.

How can it be that I ever stopped reading?

I can blame it on moving to fixer-upperhood. I can blame it on failing eyesight and never having my glasses handy. I can blame it on the closest library having nowhere to park. I can blame it on HGTV. I can blame it on the 4 or 5 magazines I subscribe to. I can blame it on sitting in front of a computer all day and just wanting to turn my brain off at night. I can blame it on feeling like I’ll never find another book I love as much as the ones I already love.

I can blame it on a lot of things, but I can’t make sense of it. It appalls me. Scares me. I am a reader, dammit.

Except, sadly, I’m not anymore.

But maybe I will be again.

Last night I read a whole book.

Mike was out for the evening. I turned off the computer. I didn’t turn on the TV. I just curled up on the couch. Pulled a blanket over me. And read. And all the while, I thought, “I’m reading a book!” Like I had just discovered penicillin or something. It made me giddy.

I liked the book so much that today I mailed it to my sister. She’ll probably think, “Why did she send me this? It’s OK, but…”

She won’t understand that in it I discovered a long lost friend. No, more like a twin. Or a child. Or some part of me that I lost.

I had forgotten how good it felt. How wonderful it was to be carried away by someone else’s words…to live in their world for a while instead of my own.

It’s a feeling I won’t forget.

I am a reader…again.

This nice and subtle happiness of reading, this joy not chilled by age,
this polite and unpunished vice, this selfish, serene life-long intoxication.
~ Logan Pearsall Smith

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P.S. And sometimes…

Tuesday, September 21, 2010 at 8:16 pm (Writing by Ear)
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…cherry almond scones turn into a cherry-almond-shortcake-type thing AND a cherry-vanilla-chocolate-chip-shortcake-type thing because that’s just how the scone batter crumbles..or sticks…or something.

But anyway, it still looks like a pretty tasty dinner.

When life hands you almost-turning cherries and too-sticky scone dough,
make what you can of it.
~ Writing by Ear

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