Can You Write Where You Work?

There are two things that I find incredibly difficult. Or, at least, two I want to talk about today.

1.  Staying calm when a bee flies into my car’s open window.

Sometimes, in the moment, it’s hard to sensibly weigh my options in a situation like this. On the one hand, I could do everything possible to get rid of the bee: wave my arms about wildly, swerve all over the road, scream, attempt to roll the windows all the way down, have my hair begin to fly into my face, slam on the breaks, hit the gas, etc. And maybe, just maybe, avoid a bee-sting in the process. On the other hand, I could stay tensely calm, focus on the traffic around me, and chance the devilish thing landing on me and stinging me, or biting me—who knows what they’re really capable of?

In the moment, it’s not always easy to see what the better option is. Having faced this, though, I 've chosen the latter option. Not only did I feel brave, but I escaped the incident unscathed.

I did not have this luxury in the office last week when a huge buzzing flew past my ear. I let out a hushed squeal and ruffled the hair beside my ear (just to make sure he wasn’t hiding in there with his buzzer off). I quickly sized up my situation. There was a buzzing something in the house that liked to fly at my head before veering left or right at the last second. One of the other employees had me in her direct line of vision, so I couldn’t swing at it without appearing insane. I watched as the wasp or bee or whatever flew past the girl . . . not a flinch!

I realized I had a bee-in-the-car situation. I had to sit still and look professional and in control, or risk losing every ounce of credibility I held at this internship. So I sat still. I kept one eye on my work and the other on my buzzing enemy.

2. Writing where I work

Is it just me, or is it difficult to write at the same spot where you work? Even the work I do—reading manuscripts and writing about them—seems to spoil the atmosphere of my own writing projects if it’s done in the same place. It makes want-to write and plan my current project into have-to work. It turns creativity into productivity. And that’s a bad transition. I’m not saying that being productive is bad, but productivity is one of those words that sounds like a marketing team is breathing down my back. And that doesn’t exactly get my creative juices a-flowin'.

Writing at the same desk where I work seems almost more harmful to my concentration than having a buzzing something flying around my head. And it’s ironic, because I view my new book as my real work. My time considering plot, character, and words at home is part of my real office hours. I can’t have these kinds of distractions if I want to produce my best work.

So I’m quitting my internship! No, not really. But I’m no longer working at my writing desk. It may seem silly, but just try telling a professional athlete that all of his/her superstitions are silly!

It’s all in our heads, but you see, that’s just where my book is, too.

Photos from tvgasm.com and signaturefurniturerental.com