The ancient art of Feng Shui is the careful re-arranging of office furniture and stationery under the umbrella of procrastination.
Or it is for me, anyway. If I’m lacking the motivation to write (which NEVER happens), then it’s time to eat a buttload of BISCUITS (<– click dis) and Feng the ever-loving Shui out of my surroundings. Blogging about this process adds another level of procrastination, which, I believe, means I’m now a seventh dan Feng Shui black belt.
But it wasn’t always so. Once upon a time, I could only dream of having ‘things’ to ‘arrange’. I wrote my first two novels (still available on AMAZON! ) (<– click dis) on an iPad while lying propped-up in bed because I had no chair. Just call me Eliza Dolittle (but without the Cockney charm).
(Btw, I’m aware there are way too many brackets in this entry.)
(They’re like cheeky asides though, and who doesn’t love a cheeky aside?)
(Editors, publishers, and readers of blogs, probably.)
Things have changed since my days of chairless iPadding: I have a laptop now, and recently I acquired a blimmin’ home office. It’s AMAZING. I mean, ideally I’d write from the highest branch of a Swiss Family Robinson style tree-house on a remote island, but one must make do.
(FACT: did you know Monty Python decamped to the Caribbean just to write The Life of Brian? No wonder it’s a masterpiece. How am I supposed to write anything decent without warm sand betwixt my toes and pineapple cocktails down my neck? No wonder I’m riddled with brackets.).
Anyway, I’m weirdly fascinated by where people write, so I’ve put up a photo of my ‘area’ below (and I don’t mean my Barbie bulge either) in the hope that you’ll reciprocate with photos of your own ‘areas’. What you can see here is a new whiteboard, a new cream leather writing chair, and an ‘upcycled’ writing bureau (as in, I’ve glued a few pages from my first book onto the top of it, and applied a layer of varnish. Looks propa class, mate.). I love it. And who needs pineapple cocktails betwixt your toes when you have a jumbo R2D2 mug?