“After coffee comes work. That fluidity between working or not is a constant struggle, particularly for a freelancer. In one sense, it’s always a work day, but you have to define what work means. You can take it two ways——either everything is work and adds to your creative process or none of it is work and there’s no tinge of stress. I still don’t have it figured out, so my workday starts when I have my computer in my lap and the silence descends. If I wake up with someone, of course, it’s beautiful to talk with them in the morning, but most days “Can I have an iced coffee please?” are all the words I’ll say to another person until nighttime.
The light in my room is very important to me. In a way, it’s kind of like my office mate. It has its moods. Sometimes it’s inspiring, and other times I’m like, “get the fuck out of my face.”
When you’re a writer you have to sit in your house a lot, so you have to take account for how things look in your space. It’s douchey having a blue candle and a blue book, but this is all I look at, truly, in this room, so it does feel important to treat it like a sanctuary. This space is the first space that I made my own, knowing that I spend the majority of my time in my room. I feel invested in its surfaces. Again, hearing those words——“invested in its surfaces”——come out of my mouth makes me want to… but no, it’s true. Like me and that table, that marble desk I made, we are tighter than any two people.”
(Read the rest here.)