I’d been feeling boxed in, packing up my worldly wares, preparing for the big move. Unfortunately it turns out the big move in doesn’t coincide with the big move out. This presents a series of challenges which results in this:
I stumble glumly on my displaced way. Without a compass, adrift, all thoughts of writing sealed up with duct tape and stacked three boxes from the ceiling. How can I escape into my fictional world when I have no bearings in my physical one? Kicking gravel, I look up. I am faced with a friendly lamplit window. Nose pressed to the glass, I’m enticed in…I find myself inside an offshoot of a favorite independent bookstore McNally and Jackson. Desks and pens and notebooks, oh my! It gloriously exalts “the life of the mind” which is exactly what I’m lacking. My spirits soar as I look around, sighing, smiling, stroking the lovely symbols of writing and penmanship and correspondence.
I’m sure I release a whimper at the sight of that flesh colored leather notebook. I could access my soul writing in that book, no, I could access yours!These are paperweights of a substantial thinker, they rest on work that exudes gravitas; no breeze could blow such weighty pages away. These paperweights are for a writer who could pen the next “NW”––not only that, but do so in hieroglyphics.
Oh the precision of the lines and angles, the allure of the smooth blocks of paper, the unwavering control, the constancy.
This will be the desk at which I exercise my essential spareness:It is handmade in Portugal with no metal screws, only wooden joints, and retails at $4000. At this point my husband queries if I, in fact, have a screw loose. I would urge him to admire this retro lamp in an intelligent (and frugal-looking) green.
Some women might crave a velvety curvy spotlit boudoir-inspired vanity desk like the ones used by the goddesses of the silver screen. Or Dita Von Teese. I’d select these untreated wooden planks mounted on legs from Norway. A gentle nudge inward encourages the drawers open to reveal their secrets:
New Yorkers obsess over exposed brick. But I’d paint those bricks clinical Margiela white and pose the question, how’s that for truth? Considering this was the state of my last novel in progress, I would certainly have come up in the world, wouldn’t you say?
I have put these in a box for posterity though…
Or for some historian to find and pore over with delicate fingers when I’m long gone….and wonder did I, as rumor tells it, indeed have a screw loose.
The result of these scrawlings was my first novel which is now available.
You can buy Silk for the Feed Dogs here.
Might I recommend you take it to McNally Jackson and enjoy it with a pot of their hot green tea with pear. Surprisingly delicious when enjoyed together. An honest recommendation, I have no affiliations with them, just a healthy appreciation of their existence.
Goods for the Study is located at 234 Mulberry St, New York, NY 10012