The surface is smooth like satin; I admittedly spent the first 20
minutes staring fixedly at its flowing lines and a solid half hour after that
petting it. For my own sake I have not called it “my precious” yet, but
give me time.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I formally announce that I have a new desk! Woot!
And this newest addition to my writing area has a story even though
it was just delivered last week. Plus my new arrival brings up to an
important journal subject: a writer’s workspace.
Of course, the writer's desk is easily the most essential
piece of furniture. While the computer can be viewed as the CEO
equipment-wise, the desk and chair are its bodyguards and the most critical
furniture. And when I first started writing, I hadn’t really thought much
about what it meant to have a good desk but now I have a much greater
appreciation.
To tell the story of my new desk’s journey into being, I
have to first give you a brief history—the ghosts of desks past, as it
were. Before I’d really researched anything carefully my work furniture
was a sad hodge-podge mix of pieces that my family members didn’t want and that
I’d accepted out of necessity.
The first desk was small with wide drawers on either side of a
cramped leg nook. While it was sturdy, the thing was most likely a kid’s
desk. The drawer storage was convenient, but my lack of leg room paid the price
for it, and I didn’t have a whole lot of surface area outside what little space
was taken up by my compact laptop. While it was solid wood, it was
obvious that it'd been painted over several times and oddly, a few splintered
blocks would periodically fall down from somewhere inside the drawers, making a
sudden thump of a sound that would startle me
because I never knew when my desk was going to “drop its wood.” I paired
the old monster with a leather-covered, hardback chair that I’d purchased on
sale at Macy’s.
Looking back now, I’m amazed that I wrote my first novel-length as well as several short stories on the thing, and while I can’t remember the feel of sitting at it, I can still clearly recall the resulting back pain.
Looking back now, I’m amazed that I wrote my first novel-length as well as several short stories on the thing, and while I can’t remember the feel of sitting at it, I can still clearly recall the resulting back pain.
Halfway through my second story, I (well, my knees and lower
back) decided that I needed something better, so I gave the kiddie desk back
(because it was presumably a family heirloom) and I shelled out a little bit of
money for a prefabricated computer desk that had shelves built into it.
And while I was at the office supply store I picked out another chair (also on
sale), hauled it all home and went back to work. While the computer desk
was functional, the particle board smell lingered for weeks after I'd brought
it home and it would wobble when I'd lean too heavily on it. I mentally
chided myself for having such high expectation of a desk that was bolted
together using an L-wrench smaller than a mini pen. Compared to its
stocky predecessor, the compressed desk seemed cheap but I'd been determined to
get my money’s worth out of it.
Months later, after I
completed my second story, the replacement brown chair began to sag, regardless
of how many lumbar pillows I arranged on it, and the rickety particleboard desk
was really starting to bother me. The once practical shelves seemed to
loom over my head while I worked and gave little storage as I couldn't place
anything heavy on them. When I would write on the desktop the
keyboard tray would coast forward with gravity, pushing itself at me as if
saying, write, Shelley, write
now! After a while I
stupidly began to feel pressured to write by my own desk, as if the damn thing
was chastising me for not producing enough. And the chair wasn’t behaving
any better; it was brown vinyl and the padding started to wear out where I
began to slip out of the seat unless I would prop my legs up with yet another
pillow. Anytime I would get up the swivel of the thing would pivot of its
own violation, dragging an armrest across one side of the keyboard causing a
yelp of pained, jumbled computer type to run across the screen.
While paying my bills one day, I actually had the thought
that my cursive handwriting on the check was filling out was too forceful with
the way the desk was shaking—it was then that I realized that my workspace
wasn’t working. And I decided that if I were going to go
through the trouble of replacing everything again that I was going to do it right.
Making a mental list of everything I wanted from the space I came
up with the following words: sturdy, firm, solid, supportive, spacious and quality.
I started reading several of the writing guides published by
famous authors, just to see if there were guidelines to what I was looking for,
and interestingly, every single one of them described their workspace and the
descriptions were almost identical. Their offices had (paraphrasing) “a
lot of light, a good desk and a supportive chair.”
No one really even dropped
computer brand names or took a side with the MAC versus PC debate; they all had
simply focused on the layout of the room, the windows, the type of light and
the furniture. I figured if those were the important items endorsed by a
popular consensus of great writers, then that was what I needed to look for
too.
Taking this advice, my brain lolled over the elements of
it. Over the years I’d seen offices that were ornately furnished, but for
all the elegant splendor they somehow never felt like an environment I’d ever
be comfortable in. And while an office doesn’t have to be a stark cubicle
with an industrial computer and a tank-like printer in order to be productive,
it does need to have level of practicality that goes beyond velvet throw
pillows and fancy window dressings.
Exploring the internet for more information on this topic I
discovered that a couple authors have even gone as far as to show you their workspace. Out of a slew of author’s websites Sue Grafton’s has
always stood out in my mind for some reason. Under her photos link she shows her office, displaying the lovely and efficient layout; a gorgeous tree framed
by the bay window of her writing area. A long counter making up her desk
and bookshelves leading up to her awards and a sitting couch, it was such a
nice set-up and it had obviously served her well throughout her writing career.
Considering the photos I asked myself, What makes a workspace comfortable
and still conducive to work? Why do some places feel so intrinsically warm and
welcoming while others feel so stiff and unpleasant?
Incorporating my casual review of New Age subjects into my
understanding, especially the study of Feng Shui, I started my expedition to
find the perfect desk.
According to the placement art of Feng Shui, the atmosphere
of any living space is defined by one word: Chi.
Chi is said to be the energy of living things that moves around objects.
When you swat at the air, the force of your movement (and life force) makes a
little wave that rolls invisibly around until it hits something inanimate and
“bounces” in different directions.
Some objects can strengthen Chi and keep the positive energy
rolling while some impacts bounce Chi in a not-so-good way. For example, sharp
corners puncture the chi and reflect the energy into volatile patterns.
The refraction is not positive and is called “Shar Chi” or as it’s more
commonly called, “Poison Arrows.” The “poking” of Chi causes the energy
to ricochet back and scatter, negatively affecting anything that is in the path
of this runaway energy.
Reading more about the types of Chi, the concepts made
sense. Used furniture is said to hold the energy of its previous owners,
so if you want to be a successful writer you might not want to use a
second-hand desk (not unless you bought it from Stephen King or J.K. Rowling).
And doors and windows are channels of Chi, kind of like energy rivers, so if
you have a bed or desk in the path of either one, you feel like you’re in the
middle of the stream of force. Similar to Shar Chi, you’re getting
pummeled with energy and eventually it will affect you. If you’ve ever
worked at a desk with your back to the door, you may sense that there was
something hitting you; those are the positions you want to avoid when setting
up your work area.
So you want to position your desk in a way that ensures that you
feel safe and at ease. The Feng Shui principle for desk positioning is
that there are preferable positions for your desk to face. Ideally you
want to be able to see the main door of your office when seated at your
desk. This is called the “power position.” It basically means that
no one can sneak up on you or startle you (which induces bad Chi).
If a front-facing desk position is not an option (and as I noticed
while desk shopping, a lot of newer desks don’t even have a front – it’s like
particle board planking that’s designed to be pushed up against a wall), it’s
suggested that you “cover your back” by putting a mirror on the wall in front
of you that reflects the door. (Note: Same rule applies to beds in bedrooms as
shown in the graph.) That way, again, no one can drop in unexpectedly,
disrupting the calm of your space.
And so, empowered with loads of information, I began my desk
quest. While numerous Feng Shui books refer to the office as a separate
room, I had the added obstacle of my living space being a studio layout.
With my bedroom and my “office” being one in the same, the size of my desk
became an important selling point. Most desks are a standard width of 60”
(5 feet) which was much bigger than what I needed.
But, not letting that detour me, I began with the quality word from my list, and I checked
out all the solid wood furniture companies. I wanted real wood, no more
particle board or thin planks glued together with toxic resin. I was out for
something sturdy—another
one of my words.
Early
in my search I was sad to discover that a lot of the bigger names, like
Thomasville furniture, had succumbed to the troubled economy and gone out of
business. Another reputable name included Broyhill; however it seemed
that they too have been challenged by budgets and had to limit their inventory
to mostly large, estate-like desks and modular pieces for children.
This left one of my more favored options; a company that I
was familiar with because my family had owned a gorgeous bedroom set made by
them in the 1970’s. The furniture set we’d purchased for my sister was
all solid wood, made to order and had proven its worth after withstanding our
adolescent years. I remember that is was
a lovely, light yellow color and that the finish was so resilient. It took a lot to scratch it, it was always
level and the wood never warped or faded color.
So with the measurements I wanted for my new desk firmly in
mind, I pulled up the website for Ethan Allen.
Researching the company,
Ethan Allen had also suffered the effects of the recession, having closed
several of their production plants in the last few years, including one
original facility in Vermont. Keeping
this in mind, I really asked a lot of questions and looked into what I was
buying. The aura of this piece of
furniture was important to me, so I did have the high expectation that it to be
made in this country. If I were going to
pay a fair amount for a nice desk, I wanted that money to go to creating jobs.
Considering all my options,
I did conclude that Ethan Allen was the best place to go. They held a good reputation, including my own
experience with their furniture, and I was later informed by my EA
representative that all the parts of my desk were cut and assembled in Beecher
Falls, Vermont. To which I responded, “Cool beans.” J
It took about 10 weeks to
produce but it was worth the wait (and I'd visit with the floor model at my local
design center quite a bit). My desk wasn’t crafted until I ordered it, so
while it was an investment of money and time, in the end I can honestly say
that it was custom made for me. It’s solid, the perfect height and has
fantastic rounded corners (no Shar Chi!). The
finish is a gorgeous shade of warm brown and the inside of the drawer smells of
real wood. One Feng Shui rule that sprang to my mind when I'd rolled my chair up to my new desk was that you always want to have enough space to “have room to
grow.” My legs stretched, but not so much that I felt small compared to my desk. A 5-foot desk would have been too much.
Kind
of like Goldilocks, what I got was “just right.”
A sign of quality, the front of my desk is finished, the front as polished as the sitting area, where I can place it in a power position if I choose
to, but for now I have to back against a wall with a mirror that reflects anyone
entering the room. It’s is rock solid (I write checks without a second
thought now) and when I place a level on its desktop, the bubble stays
perfectly centered, so I'm very happy.
And with that I feel like I’ve accomplished what I set out
to do—I found my match. My soul mate of desks. And as I type these words I’m
playfully kicking out my legs and meeting with no interference. My
keyboard rests on top my desk now, waiting for my command, not the other way
around. Now it’s says, Do
you feel like writing, Shelley? I’m ready when you are.
Oh, and I did spring for an ergonomic chair.
Admittedly it was pricier than the old vinyl one, but I got 5 levers on this
baby. If I want to go up, down, backwards or forwards; I tell it when and
how and how much. I even have a lower back adjustment feature which is great
for maintaining a good posture and I got a seat tilt which modestly keeps my
derriere in the chair, where it’s supposed to be. ;0)
Now when I get up the chair still twirls, but the armrest
merely taps one of the brass pulls of the desk’s drawer, as if giving my desk a
knuckle-tap of camaraderie before it slowly rotates back into ready-to-write
position.
I come full circle, and I
look forward to this desk remaining with me far into the future. To my left I have a window view of grass,
trees and a lot of natural light. And while it all cost a bit financially,
I strongly advise that you acquire good writing equipment. A writer sits for hours at a stretch and that
requires good body support, so the expenditure is supporting yourself and your
craft. Just do it. The return is worth the investment.
And as I run my palm across
the smooth finish one more time, I finally have that homey feeling, like I
found what I was looking for, at last. I’m eager to see what kind of
incredible stories I’ll write with this desk. I feel the good energy
flowing through it already.
-SNG
No comments:
Post a Comment