WHAT'S ON YOUR DESK?

J.T. ELLISON

It’s beneficial for a writer to be asked this question every once in a while. Metaphor aside, the place where we create is vital to our productivity.

I have two desks. One is upstairs in my home, in a bedroom converted to an office. It’s a funny little room, a connector into the bonus room over the garage. It’s got awkward angles, but a nice big window which looks out onto the river birch. The tree is big enough that it blocks out everything else, but that’s fine. In the winter, it’s not much fun, but in the summer, the cardinals live in the tree, and at 5:00 each evening, they have a cocktail party. Apparently it’s open invitation, because all the cardinals from the neighborhood, the surrounding neighborhoods, probably the state congregate in the tree, jostling for space on the branches. They are gossips and scolds, and have a merry old time of it. When I worked in my office full time, the cardinal cocktail hour was my signal to start wrapping up for the day.

My space upstairs has evolved into more of a business office than a creative space. When I first started writing, I was working on a tiny computer table. The keyboard tray was so small the mouse wouldn’t fit, so I developed shoulder issues from the constant up and down movement. When I started my second book, I decided Enough! We bought lovely furniture to replace the tiny desk. The pieces fit snugly into the corner (I’m a big fan of angled placement) with a desk to the right which holds my printer and files, and a bookshelf to the left. The desks are two-tiered, with cavernous hutches that are loaded with books, magazines, files and knick knacks, including my precious Ted the Bear from Harrods. He’s there to bring me international flair. The top two shelves of the bookcase to the left hold my favorite titles – Lolita, Anthem, Wuthering Heights, all my Austens, Hemingway, Dickens, Conrad, Norton Anthologies and Greek Mythology texts. My shelves of Classics. Most are the books I read in school and thought were fabulous enough to keep. Which was pretty much all of them.

The center desk has my computer screen, a full sized rip-off desk calendar, a small desk calendar called “The Year In Space” which has so many cool photos of distant galaxies and stars that if you’re stuck, a quick glance will humble you. I like to be reminded that while I’m struggling, there are things that are much more important happening. There’s a black rubber, bendable string cat that I’ve had since I was ten, and a green-faced Wicked Witch pencil topper. Next to those childhood trophies is a small golden clock that was a gift from the Secretary of Commerce. Tons of paperclips in magnetic holders, post-it notes and separate containers for pens and pencils finish out that section. There’s also a fantastic Mexican ceramic tissue box cover, the cords to my iPod, the envelope that stores all my business receipts, speakers, and the box that holds my special embossed cards for thank you notes. Along the top, front and center, are my special books: the ones I’ve gotten signed by authors I love, and my first run Harry Potters. Friends get co-op space too, so the first thing you see when you walk in is their current title. A Poisoned Season by Tasha Alexander is at the forefront right now. As you can tell, I love having everything in its proper space.

On the shelf to the right is a framed print of a Chinese character from the I Ching called CHAOS. The small print below says “Before the beginning of great brilliance, there must be Chaos. Before a brilliant person begins something great, they must look foolish to the crowd.”

I love that sentiment. It’s how I approach my work, and my life. Chaos equals risk, in my mind. If my life is organized, it leaves plenty of room for my mind to be chaotic, and as such, my work to push the edge.

My big black leather chair swivels, and to the left of the window is another chair, cushy and comfortable, a table with a lamp, a white board for plotting and a corkboard. All my conference and self-congratulatory detritus, book covers, important emails and notes go onto the corkboard. There’s another sign on the table, this one stone. It says, “Don’t Piss Off The Fairies.” Amen to that. Without the magic sprinkles of fairy dust, where would we be?

But I spend my creative time downstairs, in my black leather recliner. The windows have a view of the street, I can distract myself with the neighbor’s comings and goings. The cat sleeps on the bench to the left of the window on a large red plaid flannel, snoring and twitching her way through my day. There’s a slate table to my left that holds my drink, the phone (whose ringer is off,) an Italian pottery catch all for pens, and a basket below for “stuff.” A magazine rack to the right handles my notepads and current files.

I sit in this chair with my laptop on my lap and write. After all the care and feeding I put into creating the perfect office upstairs, my lap has become my desk.

J.T. Ellison is author of All the Pretty Girls. Her short stories have been widely published, including "Prodigal Me," featured in the anthology Killer Year: Stories to Die For, edited by Lee Child, from St. Martin's Minotaur. (January, 2008)

She is the Friday columnist at Murderati and is a founding member of Killer Year, an organization promoting the best debut novelists of 2007. She lives in Nashville with her husband and a poorly trained cat.
 

WHISPER OF THE HEART
(MIMI WO SUMASEBA)
(1995)

Written by:
Aoi Hiiragi
Hayao Miyazaki


Starring:
Brittany Snow
David Gallagher
Jean Smart
Cary Elwes


This breathtaking animated film
from Studio Ghibli tells a
charming tale of young love
and the dream of
becoming a writer.  

 

SAY WHAT? Misused Words

errand - a short trip for a specific purpose.
      "I said no more, but I felt a very strong conviction that the business on which I was sent away was so beset by difficulties that my errand was almost hopeless at starting."

errant – wandering, deviating or straying from the proper course.
      "I was pleased with my role of the trusted friend bringing back the errant husband to his forgiving wife."
 

A MOMENT IN THE HISTORY OF WRITING

In the early sixties, a young wife of an Air Force officer and mother of two yearned to write a romance, the genre she especially enjoyed reading. She began with paper and pen, but soon grew frustrated at the slow progress. She wanted a typewriter! When her husband mentioned he’d like to write poetry, she had an epiphany. Why not buy him an electric typewriter for Christmas and while he's away on extended trips, she could type her story?

She kept her writing a secret until her husband underwent surgery and had to stay home two weeks to recover. When she confessed what she'd been doing with his typewriter, he didn’t say much. It wasn’t until family members read her unfinished manuscript and encouraged her to get it published that her husband showed an interest.

She sent it to several hardback publishers, and received the usual rejection slips. Frustrated, she sought the advice of an agent who told her to change practically everything in the story. 

Then one day, a friend told her about a Louis L'Amour interview she'd recently seen on TV. He said he wouldn't sign with hardback publishers at the time because they took too much percentage from paperbacks. Based on that info, the new author chose to give paperback publishers a try.

She sent her romance to Avon, and it fell into the slush pile of the senior editor. Facing a rainy weekend, the editor decided to take home some work and grabbed the largest manuscript on her desk. She stayed up all night reading it. On Monday, she recommended Avon publish it.

The Flame and the Flower hit bookstores in 1972, selling over 2.3 million copies in its first four years. And Kathleen E. Woodiwiss is credited today with creating the historical romance genre.

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