I feel like such a goof right now. For years, I’ve been
complaining that writing at home is too hard because of all the distractions.
So I’d often go to a coffee shop, which really sucked because of all the
distractions. And there I’ve been since I stopped working five years ago, going
through phases of writing at home or a coffee shop, depending on which
distractions bothered me more at the time.
Then recently there was a certain book I wanted to read, and
in my quest to avoid the lure of Amazon because my husband says I spend money
like a drunken sailor, I decided to go to the library. I turned to the left,
toward the quiet, grown-up people, the side I always avoid since I’m with my
loud children who don’ t understand what whispering really means. Especially
when they are crying. It’s hard to whisper cry. And there they were – all the
large, empty tables with great lighting and wonderful outlets. The people
working on their laptops or reading a book, not distracted by the violent sound
of the cappuccino maker or the ding of the dry laundry that should really be
folded before school pick up.
The library isn’t perfect by any means. But it’s quiet and
it’s free and it has books. I feel silly for not thinking of it sooner.
Regardless, I found a new place to go, a new place to write. For now, it’s
working for me.
Wish me luck that I get something done. Where do you go to
work, read or create?
