I have read about places quite bizarre, and cozy, where writers hibernate to write: in a windowless room, the subway, in the garden, the basement, the kitchen, or in the attic. I am curious to hear where other writers create their works.
This isn't meant to sound like a come-on, but I write in bed. I do most of my creative thinking while in my bed...which fits since I'm working on an erotic suspense novel at the moment.
I write in a bedroom converted to an office right now. But I'm finishing a shed I have in the yard so i can get out of the house and, hopefully, out of wireless range. It's hard to keep off the web when trying to do work. As soon as you lapse in a thought or wonder what is going to happen next, instead of just thinking about it, you (and by you I mean me) head to dick around on the internet. Damn thing.
In the summer, in my bedroom because it has an air-conditioner. Rest of the year I write in my apartment's living room, but I pull down the blinds because all the traffic on the avenue is distracting.
I write in the living room. I used to write in an office but I didn't really care for it. I felt like I was being sent to my room to think about what I'd done. Then about six months ago we moved to a one-bedroom apartment, so an office wasn't an option, anyway. I like to put my desk right against a wall. Windows and other things distract me if I don't. I'm like a fish -- any shiny object and I'm off in a new direction. Anyway, it works well: my wife is usually sleeping when I do my writing, so that's not a problem, and I'm still sitting where most of the life is.
I do most of my writing sitting under a tree or on a bench down on the beach. Only problems that I have to use the paptop and it's battery is not what it used to be.
Steve Reeder (Adrenalin Rush - waterfrontbooks.net)
I write in a small, cramped bedroom in a small, cramped apartment with virtually no privacy and plenty of distractions. Telephone rings, television blasts. Still I write. But, I was fortunate for a few years of working in a business office. I had to get out THREE publications each month. That included writing most of the articles, getting photos taken, etc. All this I had to do with people all around me, conversations filling the air, and I had strict deadlines to be met. I can't think of a better training ground for any writer. I'm grateful it happened to me.
I tried writing in my office, but I felt so isolated. Now I write in the living room where I can look out the window and monitor the neighborhood. I leave the door open in good weather so the cats can come in and out. I also know when the mailman comes, the garbage man picks up, the kids walk home from school, and the girl across the street has her married boyfriend over.
I wrote my first novel in my apartment overlooking the busiest intersection in Sydney! The honking horns trained me to drown out noise, so now that I'm living up the coast with the fam and working on my third, I can turn off my ears to the sound of the playstation roaring and dogs howling. My room is tiny and cluttered with books, both fiction and non-fiction, but I like the clutter. I'm a bit of a recluse and people don't really like to talk to me, cos I freak them out, so the clutter makes the place seem crowded and less lonely.
I'd like to amend my answer. The true answer now is anywhere. Some places are better than others but with two kids (4 & 1) a full time job, training for a marathon and taking PI courses, I write wherever, whenever I can. A minute ago I was following my 1 year old up the stairs while getting a couple of sentences down on the laptop.
My husband and I share a large office/library, and that's where I write. We used to share a small one, but it got too cramped, so we built an extension onto the house to have room to move. Of course, it's becoming filled with books, too. They seem to multiply...
I write in my library. . but heck, my library is so small that if you sneezed too hard, you'd get slapped in the face from the reverberated concussion coming back at you. Books, computers, grandkids, dogs . . . you name it, it's here with me. I wouldn't have it any other way.
I write the first draft sitting on the sofa in my living room and glancing out the picture window to the mountain across the road. I write scenes on a pad of paper then go to the computer room (husband and I each have a computer but dial-up is the only net access in this deep valley) to key in the second draft.