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Writer's pictureCris Serruya

Inside out my writing space


Some writers have offices that overlook a garden, a lawn, or a peaceful stand of trees. I live very close to Copacabana beach—yes, that would be in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil—and…I would have loved if my home-office faced the beach. Unfortunately, not even from my living room windows can I see it. There is nothing but buildings outside, and the living-room gray-and-white stripped curtains are usually closed. To make things worse, I have no windows on my home-office. Yet, that might be better because said view could be a little—or rather, a lot—distracting. The monotonous strips of the curtains keep my mind off the real world and in my written world, and my window-lacking home-office walls prevent my eyes from straying away from my computer screen.

Now that you are all pitying me, let’s take a walk though my writing space.

There is what you can see: bookshelves filled with books—duh!—and other shelves containing old notebooks and Moleskines from TRUST Series, Ever More Series planning, all labeled and stacked alongside the brand-new paperback editions of my own books.

A tall glass and a jar of homemade ice-tea—cold-sweating over a white-linen covered tray—sit in a corner along with one of my reading-glasses. Fat files crammed with newspaper articles and fashion magazines pages are witnesses to the creation of Sophia, Ethan, and Alistair; Laetitia and Tavish; Lady Chloé; Markus and his partners; and more than 300 hundred other characters.

Yellow stick-up notes still gathering dust compete with random annotations about those characters who haven’t been born yet but are already demanding to have their stories told.

So you see, it is an organized space.

What? Messy?

Erm…okay, I agree. It’s actually my sacred coherent untouchable mess. My home-office is where I plan, write, and edit my books, where I create my book-best-friend—and book-boyfriends—and where the characters take control of their lives—or should I say, mine?—twist my planning, and then decide who loves, lives, and dies.

It is my world. It’s where I dream.

It’s my dreamt world.

P.S. - I have retuned some of my books to the free reading KindleUnlimited program.

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