My getaways made me realize how the hotel industry has missed an economic and ethical opportunity by not marketing discounted rooms to locals.
Putting songs on repeat helps me get into a writing flow, return to my projects after time away, and access memories and moods more easily.
When I am in pain, I stare out the windows and write about a world I am too sick to access. Creating in my office reminds me that though the world can wound, it is also a wonder.
Smug behind my snug desk, working so far from New York, these many months gave me distance to write about catastrophe in the rest of the world.
Writing requires solitude so that the ghosts will come unencumbered.
Neither of us has dated another writer—we both said we wouldn’t. Part of our hesitation had to do with very literal questions of how to share space.
Better than controlling my writing mind, I’ve figured out that what my brain wants most is to be free
We learn from other books. When younger writers only want to write and not read, I worry that their books will lack the depth that literature’s history supplies.
I have somehow managed to graduate from the late nights, the early mornings, and the stolen lunch breaks to full-time regular hours, writing in an office with a desk and books all around me.
For the vast majority of the last few years, my life has spatially collapsed to one desk in one room in one apartment with one view. Sometimes it feels like too much life for one piece of furniture and a few windows to hold.