A writer’s room

I’ve always been intrigued by seeing where authors write. I’m the sort of person who likes to glimpse through windows when I’m walking down the street, because I’m curious and I like to see how other people live. But more than that, I feel that writers’ rooms reveal something of the individual writing process, whether those rooms are intimate spaces or not. I always find the writing process so fascinating, the way it shows the inner workings of our minds, sometimes without us even realising it.

If you’re familiar with me over on Instagram, you’ll know that I really love interiors, and love paying attention to colour, pattern and detail. It also really inspires my storytelling, as I find myself drawn to create homes for my characters. I feel I can create a sense of who they are by the objects they choose to surround themselves with and the way in which they live.

With this in mind, I’d like to show you a little bit of my writing room, or writing studio as I sometimes call it.

My writing room

My writing room is a lovely, light-filled space which overlooks the garden. The main walls are the colour of clotted cream, while the window walls are covered with a pretty floral wallpaper, giving the impression of pressed wildflowers. My room gets a lot of sun, which plays off the yellow floors; it is full of my books and artwork I love.

For the purpose of this post, I’ve decided to talk about the room as whole, rather than talk about all my books (an entire blog series in itself!).

So, in between my books, there’s a Sonos speaker, so that I can listen to podcasts and music when I’m in the mood, a camera that once belonged to my late father, a watercolour by Bobbye Fermie, a card from the author Lucy Caldwell with a lovely message that reminds me to keep going, and a trinket dish from my agent which holds jewellery from my husband (I am forever fiddling with my rings when I write). There’s also a framed cover of Harper’s Bazaar magazine - this issue, from 2020, was the one which named my story The Jam Maker as winner of the Harper’s Bazaar short story competition. It’s a lovely reminder of when things started to happen for me and my writing.

Elsewhere, there are various sweet little things my children have made or bought for me; cards, drawings, paper hearts, a wooden bunny rabbit.

A bright space

I have heard other writers describe their writing rooms as blank spaces, purposefully stark so that they can think. I don’t think I could work in a room like that, I need colour and things I love around me, in the same way that I like to sometimes sit in cafés to write, because I like the background noise. I don’t see it as a distraction, although that said this room is significantly plainer than some other parts of our rather maximalist house. At times, writing can feel very hard but I don’t ever want it to feel like a punishment, and having a room that feels like it belongs to me softens the blow when I’m struggling.

My writing room is tucked away at the end of a corridor, at the point furthest away from my children’s playroom. If I have to write when they’re home, I can shut the door and I can’t hear them.

The details

I’ve had my desk for nearly ten years, and I love it - it’s made out of oak, and has these elegant tapered legs. I hope I can keep this desk for years and years to come, if not forever.

Above my desk hangs a huge bright yellow poster of the Italian version of the film ‘Julieta’ in a cherry red frame. The film, by Pedro Almodovar, is one of my favourites. It’s based on the short story Silence by Alice Munro, which also happens to be one of my favourite short stories ever. (In fact, it very much inspired one of my own short stories, in my collection Things We Do Not Tell The People We Love). Under the window overlooking the garden is another huge film poster, this time of the movie Frances Ha, starring Greta Gerwig and directed by Noah Baumbach. This is another one of my favourite films, that I love so, so much; I could go on and on about it, but perhaps I’ll save that for another blog post too. The lightness of touch, its delightful poignancy, is something that I always strive for in my own writing and this poster serves as a reminder to not let things get too heavy or melodramatic (pet hates!) in my own writing. I bought both prints off eBay; I love hunting for vintage or unusual film posters of films I’ve loved. I find it such an original way of finding large scale artwork that feels personal.

To the right of my desk is a wall full of bookcases, and to the left a little locker which holds things like notebooks, chargers, boxes of pens, envelopes and that sort of thing. My bookshelves look built in, but are in fact simply IKEA Billy bookcases, which I asked our builders to hack, so as to make them look bespoke. All you need to do is simply buy an extra Billy bookcase and use the extra pieces as side panels, to box the other bookcases in - that’s a little trick for anyone wanting to save money on bespoke carpentry!

I also have a little vintage armchair, which I have plans to reupholster, although for now I’m quite liking the House of Hackney style print, and at my desk, I have a kneeling chair which has honestly changed my life (no more back pain!).

Surroundings vs state of mind

Two years ago, my husband and I began the long process of renovating the house where we now live, which included the creation of my writing room. My writing room is in the space where the old garage used to be. It took a year to renovate and in that time, we moved three times between our house and rental accommodation.

I found it really hard to write during this time when we were neither here nor there and the house was in such a state. It was also lockdown, so I couldn’t escape to cafés either, and for much of this time we were homeschooling our three children. All of this coincided with a very busy time for me, for it was the year that both my memoir How We Met and my short story collection Things We Do Not Tell The People We Love were due to come out, as well as the fact that I was writing my novel to a deadline.

It sounds precious to suggest I need to be in nice surroundings to write. But the chaos of the renovation, making a temporary home and living with most of our belongings packed away, not to mention the pandemic, got me down. I know there are many writers who would say it doesn’t matter where you write, that if you want to write, just write. But my surroundings really matter to me and impact on my state of mind. It was an anxious time, with all sorts of stresses, so I guess it’s pretty normal that this period of multiple transitions affected me and made it harder to write.

A room of my own

Now it makes me happy, to come in here everyday. I’m very lucky to have my studio but it’s taken me years to get to a stage where I can have a room of my own in which to work, to read, to write.

I can write here. I like the space, the light, being surrounded by my own things. I wish I could say that since having this room of my own, my writing has suddenly started to flow as if a tap has been switched on but it’s not that simple. The act of writing is always hard, no matter how lovely your surroundings. But it does make the hard parts that little bit more bearable.

I think though, more than anything, the process of creating this space, and not just this space but the rest of the house where we live, has reminded me about what it is to feel restless, when you don’t have somewhere that feels like home. To a certain extent, all my stories are about lost people trying to find a place they can call home, in ways big and small. I am home now but in feeling so unsettled myself even for a short while, I guess I came to remember why it matters so much, to feel grounded; and I suppose it is this extra understanding that I’d like to think I am bringing to the themes of my writing.

I’m wary of suggesting you need a room of your own in which to write, because it’s not always possible to find this. I never had my own office or study or writing room before last year, and I still managed to write books then. It’s taken me years to get to this point. But it is undeniably lovely to have a place to go. It is undeniably helpful, to be able to close the door, to partition this life and that for a couple of hours at least. I hope I write many more books here. But I also hope I might write them anywhere, really.

If you liked this, you might also like

A Writer’s Colourful Home Has A Story To Tell - our home featured in The Observer magazine

Inside The Rooms Where 20 Famous Books Were Written

This lovely video, filmed by my friend Parul Arora. The video not only shows a little more of my interiors, but it also introduces my short story writing course, Miniature Worlds. The next course starts on June 12th. Don’t forget to sign up to my newsletter so you can be the first to find out when enrolment opens.

The Quiet Words starts on April 3rd, 2023

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The Quiet Words will gently help you to establish a writing practice, uncover your writing voice and learn to trust your writing instinct, through a series of thoughtful weekly essays, creative homework and inspiring reading lists to help you grow as a writer.

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