Sunday, January 08, 2006

At Home

I go away for a day and a half and the Boot Campers become human!

While I am SLAVING over a hot story someone posts a photo of their workspace and others follow suit.

It's fascinating to see the range of places/conditions people write under. They vary from scruffy poky cupboards to beautiful, polished precise (and anally neat) drawing rooms where "one writes a little. you know".

I think I'm definitely down at the scruffy-and-cluttered end of the spectrum.

My office is about 17 x 8 and above you can see about a quarter of the books.

When we moved in here the lounge had the wrong dimensions, so we put a wall in with stained glass (note the Kingfisher) and I got the 17x8 "annexe". When the Mrs works from home she is upstairs and about as far away as she can get (well there's always the phone...)

I am a bookaholic and gradually I am walling myself in with bookcases. I started with 3-4 bookcases and eventually ended up with two walls completely covered (actually to the ceiling) then I started bringing some bookcases out from the walls at 90 degrees, then one on the stairs, one in the hall, one in the bedroom. and two each in the kids rooms. Most of the shelves in my offices are packed with books two-deep.

And if I stopped now I am sure I couldn't read them all before I die. What is it about simply OWNING books that feels so important? I read somewhere that book-buying is often a reaction to a deprived childhood. That would make sense in my case, but it's probably BS.

PS Just realised you can't see the Kingfisher.


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