I literally just took five minutes to look around my writing desk and realized I have a lot of things that are very strange on my desk. Some off them are normal desk things. Pens. Notepads. Books. Tape. Scissors. And then some things are just downright odd. There's an Eiffel Tower covered with rings and skull earrings beside a stuffed Rottweiler. There's a multicolored crocheted Dalek beside a miniature toy of the hippo Abby Sciuto plays with on N.C.I.S.
And why is there a huge cutout of a cartoon baby face stuck in my paper tray? I have no idea why half this stuff is on my desk. Honestly. But it's kind of funny that it all fits.
This desk is my place. It's my writing space. It makes me feel like I'm in the right place in order to get some writing done. I can fall into that place where I can get in touch with my characters. Where I can be the writer I want to be.
So maybe my desk isn't so strange after all.
Maybe it's just... me.
No comments:
Post a Comment