I’m coming off a week at the fantastic Weymouth Center for Arts & Humanities in Southern Pine, NC, where I have completed lots of things.  as I think about returning to normal life, I wonder how in the world I’ll be able to make my practice, built daily here, stick. 

I’ve spoken to the other writers who are here with me – there are four of us total and I’m the only one not-yet published (due Oct. 5, if all goes according to plan) – and they say that writing at Weymouth is different and magical.  What we do here, we probably can’t replicate in our day-to-day normal lives because here we have nothing but time and space.  We have our own rooms and share common areas, yes, but we have access to the entire center and its grounds, which are open the public. 

I’ve written in my room, the Thomas Wolfe Room, a lot.  My windows overlook the patio where many parties and weddings have been held over the years.  I’ve also used the tables of the F. Scott Fitzgerald Room, the N.C. Literary Hall of Fame, the St. Andrew’s Room, James Boyd’s library (where I may or may not have searched for hidden panels in the woodwork), and the garden room on this visit.  My point: I move around. A lot. Because I need a change of scenery to keep my creativity going. 

One of the writers here this week told us over dinner how another writer locks himself in a room without windows for six hours a day. I would freak out. I need to see things, hear birds (maybe not my dogs barking at every little thing). 

For years, I’ve told myself that I need to have my “own writing space” but it turns out, I don’t. I need a couple of writing spaces.  I have two or three spots in my house – office, bedroom, and dining room.  I have preferred locations at Scuppernong Books, Panera, and 83 Custom Coffee in High Point.  And I have my car, Nat. Here’s what I do need for my personal sustainable practice:

• Personal grace to accept that I am not perfect
• Flexibility
• An orange candle (because I love orange) 
• Coffee
• Laptop, paper, and pink pens

And that’s it. Music or a sound machine helps to distract my brain (white noise) from other noise. If I’m home, the white noise also distracts Trixie the Boxer, who barks at every little thing.