A Special Writing Place

    I never realized how important an unchanging, familiar writing space was until I tried to write in an unfamiliar space. Before my writing came to a screeching halt years ago, I usually wrote outside where I could smoke. If the weather was nice, I sat on the porch. If it was nasty, I sat in my car. No matter where I was, I always had soft music in the background. I can't concentrate or write in dead silence. The house is gone, the car is gone, and I quit smoking the night before my open heart surgery (go figure). 

   Along with the battle to restore my memories and ability to write, finding a new place to write added to my struggles. I can't get too comfortable in a recliner or sofa as I will fall asleep (age). It also can't be too uncomfortable or it distracts me from writing. I've been unable to find a spot in the house we live in now, and the car isn't comfortable, at least for writing.

   A couple of years ago, I bought an old cabin cruiser at auction as a project to keep me busy. It's moored at our local marina, and is about the size of a small camper on the inside. I don't smoke anymore, but killing the desire to light up while writing took years to overcome. The inside of the boat has a couple bench seats with a small table between them. It fits me perfectly. It's quiet with no distractions and has a small radio for background noise.

  It's been a tough road finding my memories and rebuilding my writing grove so finding a writing space that fits me is a god-send.

   I'm including a snippet from a chapter I just wrote. Let know what you think.

   Thanks for reading.

Unused to being fussed over, the young mage savored every touch and encouraging word as it strengthened his belief in himself and his humanity. The spirit below would be totally bereft of even a memory of her humanity. This was his only advantage and he needed to make the most of it.

After a farewell bow and smile from Nathan, Aldan spun, the magical sigils embroidered into his robe flashing. He walked steadily towards the phantom palace. As he moved through the passageway, Marcus lit up the staff in an encouraging glow to send Aldan on his way.

As they got closer, details began to emerge. The entire image rippled like flowing water while all the edges appeared to melt and drip. The coppery stench of blood grew stronger with every step.

“Amos, the palace is dissolving. I don’t know if that means she no longer has the strength to maintain it or she is purposefully drawing the blood to her to boost her power.”

“Since we are obviously walking into a trap, I hope she has enough power left to complete the spell. I hate to think what might happen to us if the spell fails half complete.”

“Only one way to find out.”

Aldan placed his hand against a wall and opened a door where none existed before.