It’s a well-known fact that working from bed can disrupt your sleep schedule. The original title of this article was “Where to Write - Why You Shouldn’t Write in Bed Unless Your Characters Are Napping.” I thought that was really clever, and for some people, it might be true.
But then I really started thinking about it: where do I write?
I write at my desk, printed out images of my character muses taped to the wall in front of my face, instrumental music blaring through my headphones and a candle flickering, filling the room with the scent of peonies. I write on the couch, my calico cat meowing mercilessly at me for attention. I write in the bathtub, a small notebook perched on the outcropping next to the tub. I write on my hand when I don’t have paper. I write in the gardens near my apartment, the scent of rosebuds pushing their way up my nose. I write on the quad at my school, when autumn leaves turn the trees into walls of fire. I write in the kitchen at my apartment while I cook dinner, my laptop on the counter far away from the stove so I don’t get food on it. I write in the library, surrounded by books. I write in the middle of the night, waking up from a dream about a girl being lost at sea. I write in the shower on occasion, drying my hands on a towel and reaching for my phone. I write in class, sparingly so I can still pay attention to the lecture. I write on my morning walk to work, my frozen fingers typing on my phone as the sun rises over the mountains, and I write at work, stopping to answer the phone when it rings. I write in the student union coffee shop in a massive squishy chair, an electric fire at my feet. I write at the kitchen table at home with my family, the smell of my mom’s cooking making me smile. I write at the grocery store, on spare receipts, and I write in my car in the drive-through line at Starbucks, and I write on the drive from my hometown to Asheville, using the voice command to input ideas into the notes section of my phone. I write on planes, on trains, and even once on a boat. I write in cafes, surrounded by coffee mugs and pastry cases full of treats. I write at the pool, dripping wet. For four months, I wrote at a desk overlooking Sorrento Italy, with lemon trees and the Marina Grande just out of my sight. I wrote at the Trevi Fountain in Rome and on a gondola in Venice.
I write in bed, my weighted blanket on top of me, gazing out the window when I need inspiration.
So, who would I be if I told you not to write from bed?
Write wherever inspiration strikes. Write as much as you can, whenever you can, friends, and even write when it’s inconvenient. I have literally paused conversations with friends to write something down. If you have words in your head that you think might mean something, write them down and make them mean something.
Where do you write? Do you have a special place where you write? Let me know in the comments!