Flash Fiction: Your Perfect Working Setup
In case you missed it - I'm posting some small posts on a non-regular basis based on things that inspire me (or some works in progress). These don't get emailed out to save everyone's sanity, but I'll try and include links when I do get a newsletter/email pulled together.
Since the last email:
your perfect working setup
I attended a writer's group recently at Red Lion Books, Colchester. For one of the tasks, we had to describe our ideal writing space. I started off writing things that I thought would be good, but in the end, it (as ever) took a bit of a dark twist. So I thought I'd share it. I've called it flash fiction, but who knows whether that's right.
Your surroundings echo your motivations.
There are inspirational things on the wall. That Helskini booking confirmation, that newspaper story about Grandad, that picture you found under the floorboards.
Paper is folded neatly and stored away although you'll never read what's on them ever again. At least they don't invade your brain when you're trying to work.
The plant should be filling the air with ions or oxygen but instead, it attracts bugs and makes you worry about whether you've overwatered it. For now, it hides the peeling wallpaper.
There should be nothing else, but there is. There always is. There shouldn't be anyone else, but one click away the world's opinions wait to flood through the screen. There shouldn't be distractions, but the neighbour's dog insists on advertising its whereabouts to the local squirrels.
Maybe the perfect writing space is up a mountain, or on a farm (or a beach). Until then, this is the place where you write. Why push back and worry? You'd just be creating another problem you don't need. Embrace the space and become a part of it. Use it to feed your writing.
However.
The bottle of whiskey probably isn't helping as much as you think. It's not so much an echo of your motivations, but instead an inspirational partner. Like a funny poster in liquid form, it makes you smile initially but eventually, you're going to be sick of it. Perhaps justifying its constant presence quickly becomes the most creative thing you'll ever do in that room.
You realise, as you turn around and look at your peg board (which in itself is a very useful piece of kit for organising your day and priorities), the most creative thing you do in that room is making sure that the police are distracted while you plan your next heist. A fast internet connection helps with that too.
Remember to stay focused when you're working. But you can't help but look back at the inspirational items on the wall. The first time a non-UK resident hired you to break a vault. How Grandad was an art thief in Florence. The painting that the owner tried to hide but you found after intercepting his emails.
Yes, your surroundings do echo your motivations. Now. Back to planning.
Those heists aren't going to plan themselves.
That's it. Random enough for you?
Until next time.
