For years, I didn’t have any office at all. I worked in the front room where my kids played, so there was commotion around me all the time.
Eventually, I took over the dining room. And I love this space. It’s bright, it’s pleasant. It’s got a window that looks out on the backyard.
But it’s a passageway between the kitchen and the front room, so I don’t have any doors. And without a door, I can’t shut the door.
And when I read in Stephen King’s book On Writing that every writer needs a room and a door to shut, I grew jealous about people who had spaces with doors. He writes:
The [writing] space can be humble (probably should be, as I think I have already suggested), and it really needs only one thing: a door which you are willing to shut. The closed door is your way of telling the world and yourself that you mean business; you have made a serious commitment to write and intend to walk the walk as well as talk the talk. (King 151, Pocket Books – a div. of Simon & Schuster, NY, copyright 2000, personal copy)
I read that and felt like if only I had a door, I could be so much more productive, because I could shut away all the noise and chaos.
E.B. White and the Passageway
But then I came across a quote on Brain Pickings (renamed The Marginalian) from E. B. White. Here it is in context:
I never listen to music when I’m working. I haven’t that attentiveness, and I wouldn’t like it at all. On the other hand, I’m able to work fairly well among ordinary distractions. My house has a living room that is at the core of everything that goes on. It is a passageway to the cellar, to the kitchen, to the closet where the phone lives. There’s a lot of traffic, but it’s a bright, cheerful room, and I often use it as a room to write in despite the carnival that is going on all around me.
He goes on to say:
The members of my household never pay the slightest attention to my being a writing man. They make all the noise and fuss they want to. If I get sick of it, I have places I can go. A writer who waits for ideal conditions under which to work will die without putting a word on paper.
I found in this some solace and a kindred spirit. Here he is, he actually chose to work in a space that has nothing more than a passageway between rooms. And it’s bright and cheerful, like my space. And this is a man who wrote significant works—things that we read to this day and enjoy, like the beloved Charlotte’s Web.
Thanks to Mr. White, I began to feel a little bit better about having a workspace without a door.
There Are No Ideal Conditions
My friend Glenn Young has been writing about the book On Being a Writer, and on the chapter about writing, he starts to remember all the different places and ways that he has gotten the work done. He says:
I have written early in the morning and late at night. I’ve written on airplanes and in hotel rooms. I’ve written on buses. I’ve taken notes and jotted down ideas at symphony performances, in business meetings, and listening to presentations. I’ve written longhand on paper and in journals, in bed, at my desk, at someone else’s desk, in cars when someone else is driving. I’ve written on hikes and on trains. I’ve written in the back of taxi cabs. I’ve written whenever I could squeeze another moment for writing. I’ve written when I had the flu. There are no ideal conditions for writing. If you are a writer, you write.
With Glenn’s encouragement and E. B. White’s example, I’m going to worry a lot less about the door and worry a lot more about getting the work done.
Don’t Wait—Write
I hope that as we head into the new year and you’re bombarded by all the different ideas of how you can integrate new systems and rhythms and habits into your life—I think those are good, don’t get me wrong—but as you work on integrating new ways of working into your writing life, don’t wait for ideal circumstances under which to write.
Don’t forget to write.
Resources
- “The Daily Routines of Famous Writers” (Maria Popova, Brain Pickings) with E. B. White’s reflections on imperfect conditions.
- “On Being a Writer: Writing” (Glynn Young, Faith, Fiction, Friends)
- On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft, by Stephen King
Is your writing life all it can be?
Let On Being a Writer, by Ann Kroeker & Charity Singleton Craig, act as your personal coach, to explore the writing life you already have and the writing life you wish for, and close the gap between the two.
“A genial marriage of practice and theory. For writers new and seasoned. This book is a winner.“
—Phil Gulley, author of Front Porch Tales
Ann, I am SO excited for you and your new adventure! Thank you for sharing your thoughts on writing even when life is buzzing with activity all around! Bless you!
Thank you, Diane! Always a pleasure to interact with you (and I appreciate the encouragement)!
This makes me think about people who write (as I sometimes do, and I think you might too) in very populated places. Newsrooms, coffee shops, libraries, airports, airplanes … I have written in all of these places, and there’s this phenomenon where we can focus on our work so well that we can somehow toggle off our hearing and not notice the stuff around us. For some folks, or at some times, I suspect that surround-sound actually helps to create the productive little self-bubble. Maybe there’s an element of that in rooms without doors. Because, depending on the available distractions, it’s possible to sit behind that closed door for hours and not get much writing done.
What about a mashup? Writing away where there’s traffic, in the midst of the carnival, in plain and indifferent view of diners and travelers and strangers and family, is your way of telling the world and yourself that you mean business; you have made a serious commitment to write and intend to walk the walk as well as talk the talk.
Or in plain view of, and indifferent to …
Such an interesting point–how can people complain about distraction and yet get so much done in a coffee shop? We must have a switch.
Although, I’ve had this conversation with people and several have said they could not possibly write in those situations (not even the coffee shop). They say they must have silence. For me, that would be a luxury I rarely have, so I’m grateful I have whatever the switch is, that can tune out. I remember Madeleine L’Engle saying she had that kind of switch (even though she also had a writing space away from the family).
We have that switch as kids, when we tune out a parent telling us to do something. Selective hearing?
“But Mom, I didn’t hear you say ‘take out the trash’!”
I had a switch for years. Not so much anymore and I miss it! I am making some changes in my life and patterns during these opening days of 2015 – starting with unsubscribing from most of the M A N Y blogs I have followed for the last four years. I’m adding in more structured time for writing (already storing away posts for a Lenten devotional each day of Lent) and will also add in one or two opportunities to get back to choral singing, which was a love in my life for a very long time. I hope to pull together all my notes and thoughts about this project we have worked on and get back to you next week with more information. Thanks for your patience. And I LOVE these podcasts.
Oh, those bloggers are going to miss your voice in the comments section, but I think that kind of decluttering is wise, Diane. I hope I’m not one that you’ll be dropping, yet I understand if you do! No hard feelings–promise!
Looking forward to hearing your ideas!
E.B. White rules.
Elements of Style. Essays. Charlotte’s Web. Such variety!
Popping in here.
This reminds me of something a voice teacher said: “You will be in perfect voice maybe 3 days in your life and the probability you’ll be asked to sing on any of those days is pretty low.” Same with waiting for perfect writing conditions.
Love your audio, Ann! I’m on my second read-through of the book at the moment.
That’s a great reminder–sing, whether it’s your perfect day or not. Write, whether your desk is clean or not.
I’m so glad you’re enjoying the book!
Getting the work done. Sigh. . . I’m queen of waiting for ideal circumstances! I love E.B. White’s quote and jotted it down to tape on my computer. I love these podcasts Ann. Thank you!
Kristin, if you pop over to the Brain Pickings post, they have a nice “pingram” kind of art with a photo of E. B. White and that last bit of the quote in writing on top of it.
(I mean, you could print that and it would be purty to tape next to your desk)