Come along with me to my little corner of the world
Dream a little dream in my little corner of the world
Every writer has a favorite place. At least, I imagine they must. For me? It’s an old, beaten up blue hand-me-down Lazy Boy chair. So much so, that it often makes me wonder why I have a desk. I get my best writing done in this chair. When I’m in it, everything makes sense and my creative juices start flowing. This chair has magical writing powers. It has a story of it’s own. Oh, the things this chair has seen. Some, I know. Some, I know not.
My cousin bought this chair from a old man in Charleston, SC. When she was done with it, she passed it on to me. It traveled to Boone, NC where it lived in two different apartments in the same complex between my sophomore and junior years. My senior year, it went to live with J and his roommate, P. I fear to explore what this chair may have seen in that year. I’m sure it’s stuff that would make me want to cover my ears, close my eyes and scream “nanananana I don’t wanna know!!”
But then, I discovered the chair’s magic. I moved home after college. My parents allowed me to take over the third floor where I made the hallway into a living room…where the blue chair lived. A majority of my first novel was written in this blue chair. It’s just comfortable enough to be settled in for a long time, but not so comfortable that I instantly fall asleep.
The scene of the crime; where it all went down:
And now the chair moved to Georgia with us when hubs and I got married. Our guest room is fairly make-shift. We have to move furniture around when company comes and we have to bust out the air mattress (don’t you want to come visit us…?). The room’s main function is to be my office. There’s a desk in here, but it seems kind of pointless. It basically serves as a place for my laptop to nap.
Welcome to my little corner of the world:
It’s been suggested that I have it reupholstered into a more flattering material. It’s obviously seen better days. But no. It will stay as it is. I’m afraid it’ll lose all it’s magic if I change it at all. It could stand a good steam cleaning, though. But this chair will stay with me where ever I go. I will always find room for it in whatever space I call my office. So I’m just a girl with her computer and a blue chair. I’ve got whatever I need to make something of myself.
Where do you get your best work done? Is it as bizarre a place as a blue hand-me-down Lazy Boy chair? If I do ever get published and I’m interviewed, I know that question will come up. And I’ll laugh and humbling explain the glory of the chair…