Room to Create

As I prepare a presentation for young readers and writers, I’m taking stock of my 'office'. Here’s a rough sketch. I like to refer my writing space with Virginia Woolf’s words, ‘a room of one’s own.’  It’s my happy place where I’m surrounded by books, maps, plants, rocks and photos. The room has plenty of natural light with a French door leading out to a garden. During the long winter, the garden turns white like a blank screen or an empty page. But in the summer, it turns green with growth.  

sleeping garden featuring my pride and joy 
... a linden tree

Inside my room, the bulletin board hosts a scramble of notes … some might call it clutter … I call it my compost pile.  Those bits and pieces are the raw materials for growing stories.  Obits,  postcards, lines of poetry, stickers, reminders, quotes, writing rules that I want to follow, etc. …  

indoor compost board

On my shelves, I have one wall devoted to history for my German side and on the other wall, the focus is on Soviet era research ... reflecting the two huge influences on my family's history and my stories.

I also have a shelf devoted to writing craft books that guide and support me on this lifelong journey.

In between the two walls, I have shelves filled with the wonderful books by writer friends. There's never enough room because my friends have had incredible success and because my friendship circle grows bigger all the time. Good thing I have other rooms with more shelves!

books as portals to other times and places

Scattered amongst the books, like garden art,  I have stones, photos, candles and random artifacts that feed my imagination.  And ... in a small corner ... I have my own little stack of published novels. Pinch me!  

Cicero said, "If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need."  I totally agree!

Daydreaming

The title of Hilde Ostby’s new book, The Key to Creativity: The Science Behind Ideas and How Daydreaming Can Change the World, would have caught my attention if I’d seen it in a bookstore. It was, however, an interview on CBC radio that introduced me to the book’s hook. The author suffers a concussion from a cycling accident and that becomes the catalyst for her journey down a rabbit hole of creativity. Living with a brain injury survivor for the last 38 years, I’m always curious about other survivors. Of course, every brain injury is different and every person is different, too.

This was an engaging read that I took my time with so I could indulge in the nuggets of wisdom spread throughout. I didn’t need to be converted by the idea of daydreaming being a good thing. I’ve deliberately tried to be less busy and to let myself idle without to-do lists and schedules. Free-falling down the rabbit hole can be scary but it’s that vulnerability that makes creativity so elusive and yet so enticing. She writes about the enduring power of story and the intimacy of reading as it spawns ideas in readers. 

Then she writes about gardens, quoting Oliver Sacks, who says, “As a writer, I find gardens essential to the creative process.” Amen, I say. She tells of Virginia Woolf’s overgrown garden along with other creative people who need nature to nurture their minds.  This, in opposition to the schools, with its constant system of judging: “a system that creates losers must have its dark side.”  (p.189)

My favourite lines come near the end of the book. Ostby writes, “writing a book—any book—is like making a time capsule and sending it into the future, hoping that someone will find it, hoping that it will overcome time itself.” (p. 255)

Like any good book, Ostby’s work has me wanting to check out more authors, like Anna Fiske, for example. I admire Ostby for using the challenges of her own concussion to explore the nature of ideas, of creativity, and of embracing daydreams. Highly recommended. 

Book Forest

I like to own books - to collect them. They crowd the shelves of my house, fighting for space. 

I remember once visiting a prof in his home - an apartment - and he had all his walls lined with books. This is what I want, I remember thinking ... to be surrounded by books. Books, after all, are ideas, experiences, ... forests to meander, get lost in, and explore.

I've friends who like to read, but they prefer using the library. Now I'm all for the library, but I like to put marks in my books and to take my time with them - often reading a few at once. And, I go back to them to re-visit a page here or there.  Lately, with the blessing of my tax man, I can justify the expense as a writing supply. There are times when I wonder if I've more books than I need. But as I finish a book I've enjoyed, and put it on the shelf, I feel comforted knowing it's available when I need it. Sometimes, just a glance at its spine, reminds me of the world inside its covers.

Here's a favorite quote from the Stephen King book, On Writing, that I just finished: "You learn best by reading a lot and writing a lot, and the most valuable lessons of all are the ones you teach yourself. These lessons almost always occur with the study door closed."

Yeah, so my books are my garden. After all, a book is a living thing, dormant until touched by a mind. Books are trees and many trees make a forest. Now there's a metaphor to explore.