“Chaos in your environment leads to chaos in your mind.”
I don’t who coined that phrase, but they were obviously suffering from severe obsessive/compulsive disorder. I’m kind of a conundrum when it comes to that. I like my home to be clean and have things easily accessible, but my home office looks like Fred Sanford’s junk yard. And if you know what I’m referring to, you’re showing your age as badly as I am!
My desk is what could be called organized chaos. There’s a stack of papers that I thought were important enough to keep. I’m sure they have some value, although once in a while I’ll go through them and wonder why I hung onto some of them. I doubt that a credit card receipt for gas from 2016 is good for anything at this point.
My bookcase is crammed full of favorite paperbacks, along with reference books. Here you’ll find “The Shooter’s Bible,” “The People’s Almanac” (especially good for researching period details), a dog-eared copy of Roget’s Thesaurus, and “The KISS Guide to the Kama Sutra.” That last one is not only handy when writing erotic encounters, it’s warmed up a few wintry nights as well. There is also a copy of “Book Publishing for Dummies” and “The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Writing a Romance Novel.” I never claimed to have all of the answers.
On top of the bookcase is a stack of all the newspaper stories I’ve published as a freelance writer. I didn’t keep the entire paper, only my stuff. It’s fun to go through these once in a while. I do the same thing with some of my previously published books. I re-read one that I released over 10 years ago and was amazed at how brilliant I used to be.
I have a manila folder stuffed with things related to writing, whether it’s ideas or newspaper clippings that I wanted to keep as reference material. Some of these meanderings that I jotted down while waiting in the Dentist’s office or during a boring meeting actually aren’t bad. To wit:
“Do you think he’s telling the truth?”
“I wouldn’t put anything past him.”
“You’ll need to speak with my secretary, Singletary.”
Vic gave him a blank look. “Singletary, the secretary?”
“Must get confusing.”
The vibrant bright crystal sky of day gave way to a sensual indigo dusk. A slow hot wind rolled in from the Gulf, bringing the smell of sea water mixed with jasmine.
She looked him up and down. “You’re kind of reckless. I like that quality in a man.”
“That street runs both ways.”
“How far are you going?”
“As far as you want.”