Who was the author who claimed to lock her office door not to keep the world out but to ensure she stayed inside? I know I'd do well to follow her advice. But my real distractions - if you don’t count food in the kitchen and gunk in the shower stall - aren't outside the room. They're outside the window.
In a black cherry at the bottom of my hill there's a pair of nesting hawks, and to the north – no joke – I can see fifty miles to Mohonk’s Sky Top ridge. But my most recent distractions are the two equine occupants of a small barn on a neighboring eight acres.
When they arrived a few weeks ago, the temperamental pony did her best to evict her full-sized roommate. Ever seen a horse jump backward, hind legs kicking? By now she's adjusted to sharing quarters. When they're let out of the barn every morning, they prance the perimeter of the paddock before settling to graze. There's a black lab working up the nerve to herd them, but so far he's kept a safe distance.
In March the wind sometimes blows like a hurricane on our ridge. The day it whipped a skylight off our roof, the horses were stuck in the barn. I missed them, but resolved to accomplish a fair bit of writing. Until I discovered that by leaning forward in my chair, I could see their noses through the stall windows.
It's hopeless. I’m considering moving my desk to the basement.
I can see why Michael Connelly writes the occasional novel in a windowless room. Why, according to Joanne Palmer in Write Blindfolded, Steven King wrote on a typewriter squeezed between washer and dryer, and Andre Dubus parked his car in a cemetery to write The House of Sand and Fog.
There are certainly alternatives to writing at home. I do like libraries (I recommend Nyack’s). I’ve gotten into the zone on trains, although I once nearly missed my stop at Secaucus Junction. Cafe's sometimes work until I get to know the regulars. (See Best Places to Write/Work in NYC for one writer's recommendations.) But as Clare pointed out, it's spring. The jonquils are ready to bloom. I'm expecting bunnies in the yard any day now.
This time of year, can anyone honestly claim self-discipline? What's your secret? Maybe a sturdy set of window shades.
- Lois


