I just finished watching an episode of “House
Hunters International” (HGTV) where a lady sold her home in the U.S. and bought
a dream house in Costa Rica, overlooking the beach, so that she could have the perfect
place to write her first novel. Well, I admit it. I’m jealous. I’d love the
perfect place to write my novels, too. Trouble is, I’d need to sell a lot of
them in order to afford the house! None the less, it got me thinking….Here’s
what I need:
A charming cottage in a small village outside of
London, complete with a housekeeper who makes splendid breakfasts and provides
tea and scones for me in the late afternoon. It would have to be walking
distance to a lovely little town with a bakery shop, candy store and small
produce market. I’d write lovely Romance novels while enjoying the view of my
impeccable garden.
OOPS – I don’t write Romance. I’ll try again. Here
goes:
A fabulously re-modeled condo overlooking the main
plaza in Salamanca, Spain, where I could slip downstairs to enjoy early evening
tapas and drinks with the locals. I’d dine in a different restaurant each night
and eat churros every morning for breakfast before rushing back to my computer
as I write my complex crime novels.
WAIT - I don’t write crime novels. Better try again:
A lovely Victorian house situated across from a
quiet bay in Cape Cod. I could walk
barefoot on the beach and open my windows at night to let in all the soft ocean
breezes. A local cook would arrive early in the morning to prepare my meals and
clean the house, leaving me all the free time in the world to write my
children’s’ books.
OH NO! I don’t write children’s books. This is NOT
going to work! I’m faced with the following reality:
My computer/office/pile of books is located in a
corner of the spare bedroom in our Arizona home. The window overlooks my
neighbor Ed’s cactus garden and our AC unit. I’ve got to keep the door shut
while I’m working or the cats will walk across the keyboard and pull the cords
out of the computer. Once, one of them threw up a hairball on the keyboard. Try
cleaning that! With the door shut, the
dog scratches and cries. If I let him in, he just scratches and cries to be let
out. There is no housekeeper and no local cook. Still, I manage to produce YA
mystery-suspense novels where time folds, ripples and bends. It has to, I
wouldn’t be able to get the work done otherwise!
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