A Writer's Office


Having a room of my own is a blessing. It is a sanctuary, if you will—where I can shut out the world and just write … or piddle, depending on how the wind’s blowing.

Since 1989, when we bought our home, this room has been my home office.

A little history, if you have time or interest. It wasn’t always the case, having a room of my own. In the early years of my writing dreams, The Man and I lived in an adorable little rent house. He bought me an old desk from a friend and set it up in the middle of the living room. Space was scarce. And time was even more scarce. My daughter was just learning to walk, which meant I was always busy. But still, I wrote. Between my baby’s naps, between meals, and in the deep night hours, I could be found pounding away on the keys of my second-hand typewriter. Such passion I had. Such determination.

That was proof right there that you need not have a room of your own for creating; all you need is desire and energy. But having your own little space is a blessing, and I thank God for giving me this simple room to call my own.

Welcome to my home office, dear bloggers.

Please come in and look around. It doesn't look like much, and it’s a bit boring compared to others, but some days it feels like everything.

Kind friends, let me be the first to say that all of this clutter on the walls is an eyesore.


But this clutter is a small sampling of some of my work, and I keep it visible to encourage me to press on, when I'm seemingly out of gas, which seems to be quite often these days.

Seeing my first full-page article and first 3/4–page article in print sent me into my very loud and rambunctious happy dance. I guess you could say it was one of those "make a joyful noise unto the Lord" moments. :)

Hanging over my dear mother-in-law’s piano are the covers of my three books.

On quiet evenings, I sit here and play ... and think

... and marvel at God's unmerited goodness to me.

So many dreams have come true,
and I’m filled with gratitude.


My twin sister gave me this wonderful treasure box.
Hemingway had it correct, I must say.

Inside are flash drives and favorite pens, a few stamps and business cards.

Ever wondered how much work it takes to write an article? That depends on the assignment, of course, but you're looking at what it took for a single article that appeared in the "healthy living" section of a newspaper. Pages and pages of research, drafts, editor's correspondence, interview transcripts. Did I mention a deadline?

In case you're wondering what this contraption is, it's a digital voice recorder. Whenever you write articles, you almost always have to conduct interviews with experts on subject matters. With this piece of equipment, I can plug it into my cell phone, put on the headpiece, and talk to anyone from anywhere, and it's all recorded on this little device for me to decipher later. Handy, huh?


When I retired from my day job in 2008, it took me awhile to get my balance, but once I did, I made a decision that shocked even me.

I decided I would write less and play more. 

I wasn't sure I wanted to ever work as hard again as writing on assignment requires you to do.

Life was too short, I concluded.

I would still write, of course (I must write), but it would be on my own terms.

And whenever I do write, I’ve discovered that one works much better when surrounded by the faces of loved ones.

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