For many years, I’ve had the strong desire to write. I’ve always had that romantic image of sitting at some desk in a secluded room near a window overlooking some relaxing view of nature and writing, just writing. I guess it’s similar to the ideal vision in Chevy Chase’s movie, Funny Farm, where he and his wife move to a little town in Vermont so he can work on his writing career. The twist is that his wife ends up writing a book and getting it published while he receives failure after failure. Well, anyhow, that scene, being able to sit in a room like that and be inspired to write something fantastic is what I would love to be able to do. Then I wake up.


I also have another vision, one where I’m sitting on an enclosed porch of some large, old Victorian house surrounded on three sides with trees and overlooking a large body of water. Perhaps the ocean, but preferably a lake, mainly because I’m concerned for hurricanes and don’t want to have to deal with them. Anyhow, a comfortable, warm breeze is blowing through my sitting area and I’m at a table writing away on some fantastic novel, perhaps a new best seller. Wildlife amble by without concern for their safety and I can focus on this fantastic new book I’m writing. Then I wake up.


There’s this last image I have of the perfect place to write, and it’s in a little, one-room cabin nestled in the middle of the forest. My writing desk sits near a window overlooking all things natural, and an old-fashioned, cooking wood stove sits across the room where water is boiling for my hot cocoa, and keeping my cabin toasty and warm. There are bookshelves lining the walls of the cabin with a large, overstuffed chair in the corner with a lamp hanging over it for light. The only way to the cabin in the winter is by snowshoes and the only prints you see around the cabin are of rabbit, deer, and the occasional moose. Birds hang out by the tree right outside the window eating the seeds in the bird feeder, and chase away the squirrels that try to help themselves. It’s a great atmosphere to write that next best novel. Then I wake up, again

Hollywood has created many romanticized images for those who aspire to be a writer. Some are possible and others are far from being realistic. I may never get any of these dreams realized, but it’s something to work for. In the meantime, I’ll have to do with finding a corner in my small, one-story ranch home that I share with my hubby and two stepsons, and find the right times that allow me to write without too many distractions. Someday I’ll get my own little corner of the world.