Somewhere between the time that I’d finished writing “Broken Promise Records” and releasing it on Amazon, I went shopping for a literary agent. “Why would you go looking for an agent? That sounds kind of pretentious!” Listen here, Self-Doubt, why wouldn’t I go looking for an agent? I liked writing “BPR” and I liked reading it, so I sought the help of people who might help a whole lot of other people read it too! True story: a lot of them don’t believe in the book as much as I do.
When two or three months went by without an affirmative response, I decided to release the book independently. I grew up a big fan of punk music (the Misfits, Green Day, AFI, etc.) and one of the biggest sentiments that I am the most grateful for is the “Do It Yourself” aspect of punk culture. If a literary agent doesn’t dig my book, that is perfectly fine, I still believe in it and I found a way to make it available for public consumption. I’m not trying to kid myself, I know that I am going to need an agent, and soon, but the silence was a motivator that I was grateful for.
I received a rejection email today and boy did it do wonders to light a fire in me. I’ve felt more inspired to write and develop my presence as author more than ever after reading that. Since I was on a roll of being on fire, I went to my go-to writing inspiration: looking at the work spaces of other writers.
In attempt to sway the forces of the Universe in my favor, I wanted to share my work space, so that I too may be considered as a working author. Here it is:
I put my desk in the corner per advice from Stephen King in his book “On Writing.” The room used to be set up much differently, with the desk in the middle of the room. After reading “On Writing,” having the desk in the corner is like a tribute to the place you were before you started writing, and I like the thought of that. At first I hated it, but I’ve grown to love my simple desk, its sea-foam color, and the way it holds everything I need to do what I love. Don’t ask me why I have a desk lamp right beside a floor lamp, but it’s a ritual (and a burn on electricity) to have them both on as I write.
The contents of my desk are simple: a cork board to keep things visually accessible, index cards, pens, notebooks, etc.
I keep my bookshelf nearby as an another act of superstition, thinking that maybe the brilliance of those works may bleed into the energy that I put off. In fact, that entire bookshelf is an altar of superstition: I can’t begin writing unless I burn a stick of Nag Champa incense, I have prayer candles (that I lit for my Mom while she was sick), a stereo to play my favorite tunes, and other positive charms (including the two star dragon ball from Japan, given to me by my best friend). The setup, the feng-shui of it all contributes to a productive work environment, and what more can you ask for?
A.P. Miller 