Tag Archives: Writing spaces

Front Porch, Writing

Views on Our Front Porch

Given this heat, I’m spending a great deal of my time on our front porch. Alas, we don’t have air-conditioning, just two noisy fans that at least keep the warm air moving inside the house. So, out of necessity and comfort, it has become my new writing and research space as well as our living and dining room. Yes, I am writing this post out here. I have my first cup of coffee with me. I’m still in my night clothes, but it’s early, so nobody’s around except the cat and me.

I sincerely thank the people who built this bungalow in 1900 for creating a front porch that is large and situated so it channels the breezes from the tree-filled hill to the right of it. I’m glad the owners before us didn’t glass or screen it in.

Hank built its four comfy Adirondack chairs with wide enough arms to accommodate my laptop and piles of paper, so handy as I come to the end of editing my most recent book — more later. There are two rockers, tables, and houseplants that are summering outside. We have mellow chimes and bells collected over the years hanging from the light blue ceiling.

To the right of our property, ancient trees separate us from the village’s Catholic church. (During the height of COVID, they celebrated Mass in the parking lot so it was like we were there with the parishioners.)

Here, I have a good view of our neighbors’ homes, old like ours, and what the people who live there do and grow in their yards. Nothing outrageous I might add. I’d say we are lucky to have such good, friendly people living near us. We converse and even play cribbage or scrabble. The woman who lives to the left always shouts “Howdy, neighbor!” when she sees us. Way beyond this part of our village is a large wooded hill with a fire tower. We can watch the leaves change — greening in the spring and reddening in the fall.

Hank and I will sit out here talking or not talking, often with a hot or cold beverage, as we watch and listen to the birds, especially the cardinals and blue birds, but even they are staying put during this heat. The bugs surprisingly are minimal. There are small wild mammals and lots of cats. The other day Hank was startled from meditating — yes, it is a great spot for that — when a groundhog walked onto the porch. I heard the laughter when he was startled by the animal walking toward him although it eventually left.

Right now, our cat, Stella sits on the porch railing as she overlooks her realm. While I was editing my book Saturday, she came toward the porch, making a sound that means she is damn proud she has an animal in her mouth. She dumped the rather large mouse, close to death, near my footstool, played with it a bit, and then moments later proceeded to eat it. I could hear her teeth crunching bones. She left behind the head, heart and guts, which I had to clean up. Thanks a lot cat.

So here’s the part about the book. Following the Lead is no. 6 in my Isabel Long Mystery Series, which I began in February, is done, well, sort of. Yes, I reached the 75,000 word mark. The next step was to print the manuscript and get out a red flare, my weapon of choice. Every day last week, including a rainy one, I sat on the porch, marking up my manuscript before I loaded the edits into the computer.

I feel happy about what I accomplished with Following the Lead, so today I will used my computer’s read-aloud function to listen to my book. It’s part of the editing process. I bet the neighbors won’t mind.

ABOUT THE PHOTO ABOVE: That’s the manuscript for Following the Lead on my outstretched legs on our front porch. Yes, I do have long feet. You can read about them in this post from 2013 when we lived in Taos: https://www.joanlivingston.net/uncategorized/big-feet/

MY BOOKS: I’ve started rereading my Isabel Long Mystery Series from the beginning. I want to make sure I’m maintaining the same quality throughout, especially as I mentioned above that I am near the finish line for no. 6. I’m on the first, Chasing the Case and enjoying what I wrote, which frankly is a huge relief. Here’s the link to the my books, including the series: https://www.amazon.com/Joan-Livingston/e/B01E1HKIDG

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Writing

This Is Where I Write

I can write anywhere. I proved that when I was a journalist. But the kind of writing I do now — fiction — deserves its own dedicated space. Fortunately I have one in our home.

Recently, I reread Stephen King’s book On Writing in which he talks about his writing space, a desk shoved in the corner of a room beneath the eaves. He traded in his grand desk for something handmade and smaller.

Years ago, a friend gave me the book, The Writer’s Desk, which contained photos by Jill Krementz of where 56 famous authors wrote. Published in 1996, many of them are no longer with us although their writings certainly are such as Ralph Ellison, Katherine Anne Porter, and Kurt Vonnegut (Krementz’s husband). Many have spaces filled with paper. Most have windows. Their computers are antiques by our standards.

Each author offered a short essay about their writing space. Here’s one I can relate to from Amy Tan, “I surround myself with objects that carry with them a personal history — old books, bowls and boxes, splintering chairs and benches from imperial China.”

My space is situated in our second bedroom, where through the windows I can see our large deck, the neighbors’ homes, trees, and beyond, a high wooded hill with a fire tower on top. (It is certainly not the view of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains I saw from my office when we lived in Taos, New Mexico, but this is New England village life.)

Most of the time I don’t bother looking. My attention is on my computer screen.

I am fortunate to have furniture hand-built by Hank. Or I should say Hank-built. The desk is Shaker-style, when he was into that style of woodworking, with the top made from black walnut he salvaged from a job long ago — the homeowner told him to get rid of it. It has enough space for my laptop and on either side, the tansus Hank built with drawers and shelves to hold paper, writing and tech supplies. On the top of one is a collection of odds and ends I’ve collected or have been gifted over the years — from a hand-carved, painted Japanese couple I found in a library yard sale to interesting rocks, a bar of soap from Portugal, and pieces of driftwood. A clay vase resembling an Aztec relic, which I bought at TJ Maxx, strange by true, holds writing utensils. 

Hank also built a trashcan I use to recycle paper and a filing cabinet that holds my printer. Yes, I am lucky to be married to a skilled woodworker.

The office chair, which I bought for five bucks at the church’s annual tag sale next door, is kind of crappy. I have a nice oak office chair I got at the same sale last year, but I need to make some cushions.

On the walls I have a bulletin board (yes, built by Hank), photos, art and Native weavings.

I keep the space neat and don’t let the paper, coffee stains or crumbs get out of control.

No music except from the birds outside.

Sometimes I bring my computer onto the front porch of our bungalow or to the deck’s table to work. Usually it’s to catch up on email or do research. Sometimes, I will print a few chapters to mark up. But nothing too serious happens in either place.

When I sit down to write, say around 6 a.m. (a far more civilized time than 5 a.m. when I had a job), I feel this is my place. Here, I am at my best channeling whatever’s in my brain into the book I am writing. Right now, I am several thousand words away from finishing the sixth book in my Isabel Long Mystery Series. This is the exciting part where all the pieces fall together and fortunately, I have just the space to do it.

IMAGE ABOVE: That’s my writing desk.

MY BOOKS: Here’s the link to my books on Amazon and thanks for your interest: https://www.amazon.com/Joan-Livingston/e/B01E1HKIDG

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