One of my best memories of the Mystery Writers Retreat at Saltspring is of the morning when William Deverell and I talked about the writing process. Because Bill’s beautiful wife of 50+ years and my wonderful husband of 42 years were in the room, Bill and I were forced to be more honest than we might otherwise have been about how we write.
Bill is a hermit. He has a cabin on their property where he goes when he’s working on a book. It seems that Bill enters a kind of parallel universe when he steps over the threshold of his writing space. Teckla says he is not to be disturbed and that when Bill’s working, she ceases to exist. Like any couple in a long and successful marriage they have accommodated themselves to an arrangement that from the outside seems daunting. Teckla is involved in politics and has a large organic garden that she works and enjoys. When Bill emerges with a completed manuscript, they resume their life together. He’s a fine and prolific writer and it’s apparent their marriage is a solid one, so obviously Bill’s approach works for him.
I need to have Ted and the kids around when I’m working. My writing space is a sunny porch off the second floor front bedroom of our house. I never am without a dog when I write—most often, they’re both here. Over the years, I have shared one corner of my built in desk with my grandchildren. They have craft supplies there, and when they’re of a mind to, they cut and paste and draw. They all come upstairs after school to fill me in on the days’ events. When my daughter comes home from work to pick up the children, she wanders in too and we gossip for awhile, and sometimes we have a glass of wine together. I am not nearly as prolific as Bill, but I manage to get done what I need to get done, and like Bill and Teckla, Ted and I are content.
The point that both Bill and I made with the writers at Saltspring is that while all writers have the same tools at their disposal, the conditions under which each of us writes most effectively are personal. Bill needs silence and isolation to enter the world that he creates through his writing. I need to feel connected.
One of our dogs is a bouvier. Bouviers are family dogs in a very literal sense – they need to be with their human families. To punish a bouvier, all you need to do is close the door between them and you. I think that I have bouvier blood. I can’t write with a closed door.