Help me help you
Okay so maybe you helping me won’t result in me helping you but a girl could use some guidance/assistance/whatever. NC has sucked my will to write. Not NC, exactly. This is the same thing I have long complained about, even before coming to NC. I need a writing space. A space to mark as my own, a space where I am comfortable and solitary with plenty of room to spread out. For the first time since I left Oklahoma, I finally have that space. It’s called my
bedroom Room for Five Boxes, Lots of Dirty Clothes, Two Suitcases, and A Computer On the Floor. I am currently looking for a desk that costs free and isn’t a big honking piece of crap. It should also be easily disassembled to fit in my 1996 Saturn SL2. I am also picky enough to want something made out of a wood-looking substance and not very Ikea/Herman Miller-esque. I love most Ikea furniture but their desks I do not. They remind me too much of work and the last thing I need to be thinking about when I’m trying to appease the writing gods is work.
Once I find said desk, then I shall find a nice, comfortable chair and a pair of nice headphones and a nice new mouse since my old one works barely at all. I want to find pictures of things that inspire me (San Francisco, the northern California coast, starving African children, Anderson Cooper and Dave Matthews…) and hang them on the wall. I will find a nice soft throw blanket thing to curl up in, the perfect lamp, and then dedicate time, mostly on the weekends, to writing. And sometimes playing the Sims 2.
But in the meantime, help me. Ask me questions, give me a lead, something, anything to help me dust off that part of my brain. Don’t just say “write me a story about…me!” or “write me a story about kittens!” Give me a list of five things and tell me to write a story containing them. You know, be helpful and not an asshat.