The Guardian has published a collection of annotated photos of famous writers’ “writing rooms.” I haven’t lived in one place long enough for a decade to have a real writing room, but I’m hoping to put down roots soon and get something more permanent than a flat-pack desk covered in random toys surrounded by unsorted piles of books. Maybe a mahogany study lined with creepy Haunted Mansion-style busts, a wall of exotic masks and swords, deep horsehair armchairs, secret panels, and a fireplace.
I especially like the rooms from Geoff Dyer and Will Self (holy war room, Batman!), and JG Ballard‘s room is pretty swank:
On the desk is my old manual typewriter, which I recently found in my stair cupboard. I was inspired by a letter from Will Self, who wrote to me on his manual typewriter. So far I have just stared at the old machine, without daring to touch it, but who knows? The first drafts of my novels have all been written in longhand and then I type them up on my old electric. I have resisted getting a computer because I distrust the whole PC thing. I don’t think a great book has yet been written on computer.
I have worked at this desk for the past 47 years. All my novels have been written on it, and old papers of every kind have accumulated like a great reef. The chair is an old dining-room chair that my mother brought back from China and probably one I sat on as a child, so it has known me for a very long time. A Paolozzi screen-print is resting against the door, which now serves as a cat barrier during the summer months. My neighbour’s cats are enormously affectionate, and in the summer leap up on to my desk and then churn up all my papers into a huge whirlwind. They are my fiercest critics.
(via Kottke)