You can find out what I write, or at least what I’ll admit to writing, on this site. And if I have any publication success you’ll hear about it, but I’m interested in making a stab at answering the What, Where, When and How of my writing practise.
Maybe having done that, I’ll go there with the Why thing. But right now I don’t want to say I’ll answer it (although the answers to the other questions should give a lot away). But today, I want to talk about where I write.
Which is a total cop out, because I don’t have an office in the house, or a shed, or an actual place of work I go to. The primary location is the kitchen. Bingo! You say. You work in your own kitchen.
Well whoopedoo. I work with small children demanding the wheels on the bus; antagonising one another because they’re there; major diplomatic incidents which inevitably require my input going on around me. And meanwhile I’m meant to be writing poems about… well that’s another post.
As it happens, a lot of writing happens ex situ, in the notebooks when I’m travelling by rail or bus to or from some important or otherwise meeting. It’s a nice where because it changes with every passing second (unless it’s a particularly wonderful example of public transport’s failings).
And everything is hauled back to the kitchen to see if it’s any good or not. So suck it and see.
I believe that the place of inspiration is far more important than the place of composition. I also believe that if standards are routinely applied at both, the results will thank you.
Tomorrow’s a dream away. Get to it. Wherever you are.