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Where the Magic Happens II

The place that a writer chooses to write is sacred. It’s the holy temple of spaces where worlds are created, characters, and countries are formed out of nothing, and legends are molded from the depths of one’s own mind. This sacred space should be revered, honored, and respected. After all, it is a place for the gods. One must be worthy enough to approach such a divine space.

My sacred space? My holy temple of creativity? Well, it just happens to be my kitchen table. It’s scratched and worn out from five years of moving and destructive dogs. Said table is located in between my kitchen area and my living room, from where I can watch those destructive dogs while they play and do all manner of mischief. Just beyond my reach are two large bay windows. I can see the mountain I live on, and a variety of wildlife and endless trees. This table is in the center of my home, the center of my life and everything that goes on in my world. It only makes sense that this is where I choose to write.

Why here, you might ask. Why amid the hubbub and noise of my family home? This little space in my house, from which I derive all my inspiration, allows me to be present with my family. And let’s face it, corral the dogs. That feeling of “being” helps me focus on the worlds I am creating without missing out on life around me. It’s also a cozy place to be. I’ve tried isolating myself in a room with nothing, casting aside all communication with the outside world, and just writing. It doesn’t work for me. Sitting down to my little worn-out kitchen table, with my dogs at my feet and the sun making shadows on the walls around me is absolute heaven.

From this spot, I’ve written fantasy adventures and chilling tales, all of which would not have been the same anywhere else. I’ve created worlds, languages, countries, and characters, all while sipping tea and watching the deer frolic outside my window or listening to the trees rustle in the wind outside my open door. It truly is an otherworldly experience for me, and one I wouldn’t trade. I feel that I have written my best work at this table in my rickety wooden chair. Despite having built-up pillows on it like the Princess and the Pea, I still find it very uncomfortable. It is the discomfort it provides that keeps me alert and gears me up to write until my fingers are numb and my back aches. Only then, do I know that I have done some real work.

I can’t imagine working anywhere else to create my stories. I feel at one with my little world there, and greatly in tune with the world of my creations. They flow all around me in this sacred space of chaos and comfort. It is a safe place and one that I cherish. I hope that it will see many more stories and adventures to come. Although I really should get a better chair!

Keshia C. Willi

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