Karen Rivers

life glimpse: my office.

Karen Rivers

I actually DO have an office down in the basement that I spent weeks painting, decorating and organizing.   Which I now never set foot in because it represents, well, WORK.   The work of work.  Not the writing, that's the fun bit.  But the book-keeping:  Taxes!  Receipts!  Sorting out pieces of paper!  Files!   Help!  Help!

I never go into my office.  Not my real one.  I'm secretly hoping that my stepson will soon decide that he wants the basement room as his bedroom and I can second his bedroom as my much brighter, lighter, CLOSER office.   Is downstairs too far?  No.   I don't know what it is.  I think that it's just not comfortable.  There is a desk with a proper, grown up chair but then there is also a desktop computer that takes up all the space.   There is a window, but it faces the pile of stuff I need to clean out of the sideyard.   If I face the other way, I see piles of books that need sorting and purging.

Work!  NO!


Truth.  This is where I work:


There's something about writing fiction that demands comfort, no?  I lean against all my pillows and type my dream worlds.   So a bed makes sense.  

And I never fall asleep while I'm working.   At least, not very often.