I think that computers are marvelous, and feel blessed every time my fingers fly across the keyboard. Words seem to shoot directly from my head onto the screen.
I remember HATING to write when I was in high school — my hand would always cramp up, and longhand was so slow. When I tried to write fast enough to keep up with my thoughts, I wouldn’t be able to read it afterwards.
My first manuscript was written on my computer at home, in our cave of a study. I appreciated the ease of putting my thoughts down, editing, etc., and being able to do research at the drop of a hat via the internet, although it was a little lonely.
Last fall, I finally got a laptop. I wasn’t aware of feeling caged before, but now I feel like I have been set free. No place is off limits. The library, the park, restaurants, even my car when I’m waiting to pick up my sons from piano lessons… you name it, I’ve written there. It’s the best of both worlds; no one bothers you, but you are still connected to the sea of humanity milling pleasantly around.
My favorite place to go in the wintertime is Starbucks. They have a wonderfully cozy fireplace right next to the little table where I like to write. You do have to purchase something, but I can think of worse torture than a cup of hot cocoa and a muffin. Somehow, I always feel slightly naughty when I write there, like I’m getting away with something, but in a good way.
Where do you write?