"A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction. " --Virginia Woolf
Something about this quote bounces around in my brain.
Maybe it's the money thing. I don't have loads of money, yet I'm able to write.
Maybe it's the room of her own thing. I've never really had a room of my own.
As a child, I shared with my younger sister until my younger sister threw me out when I turned 13 years old. She had 'grow out' of sharing a room, so I was bumped into my oldest sister's room. Even though my oldest sister was at college, I wasn't allowed to change the decor for two years. Any time she returned to the house, I was out of the room. I slept on the floor of the living room, den or wherever I could fit a sleeping bag. When she stopped coming to the house, favoring her Iranian boyfriend's company to crazy family time, my mother started using the room when she was sick of my father. So I'd be out on the living room floor again.
As an adult, I've had a variety of apartments. Some awful, some quaint and some really super awful. I loved the chance to have a space of my own. Of course, like any vacuum, my apartments and life became full of other people's lives and problems. Apartments turned to a 750 square foot Duplex in Denver which became the 1907 home we live in now.
I've written almost everywhere: the bathroom, the basement, the kitchen, at the kitchen table, the living room couch, in the backyard, under the apple tree, and anywhere I could hold a pencil or set my lap top. I once wrote a version of an Open Grove newsletter at a brew pub in Bayfield, Colorado while the husband was helping his parents. Probably the only place I haven't written is in the beeyard.
Currently, I work in our front room. The room contains our books, financial information and anything that comes into the house. Rose has a chair to sit on as well as a bed to lay on. On the floor, if you look carefully, you can find renegade bits of Costco Lamb treats and Chicken breast treats. Everything that comes in or out of the house spends some time in this room. I share the room with Rose and our entire life.
Is it a room of my own? I'm not sure. I'm also not sure I need a room of my own to write.
Where do you write? What kind of space do you need to write?