When my wife and I moved into our house in 2007, we decided that the little alcove off the main bedroom would be my writing room. This wasn’t a change of purpose. Debbie, the former owner of the house, had also used it as a writing room. In fact, she and her husband sold the house so they could move to the Los Angeles area to write screenplays. When she lived in Connecticut, she actually worked as a writing professor.
It stayed as a writing room for a couple of years. I wrote the first draft of a book, wrote several short stories and a bunch of word vomit that never see the light of rewriting.
I ultimately stopped writing for reasons beyond this blog post. The room was transformed into my home office. Instead of writing stories, I found myself writing code. As my YouTube channel gained traction, I moved out of the office and it morped into a storage room
In 2015, I confirmed to my wife that I was no longer writing which was funny because, in that year, I got paid twenty dollars for a horror story published in Body Parts magazine. I had submitted the story in 2014 and a year later, when I told the universe, “no”, the universe said “yes”.
But I can be stubborn and so, the writing room persisted into a storage room. Until recently when I finally looked back into the void and said, “okay, let me take another look at this writing thing”. How and why I’m returning is not for me to say here. Let’s just say , I broke out my old paint can and gave my old writing desk a fresh coat so I can get it dirty again.
Mind you, it’s an ugly looking paint job, but enough to get out all the old stains. I imagine I’ll be getting a new desk in a couple of years, but for now, I’m happy just to be using it again. Ugly paint job and all.