After having a good old nosey around some 'proper' writers' rooms in the Guardian online, I thought I'd post a picture of mine - just in case you haven't got anything better to do.
It made rather fascinating reading, and I was struck by how important it seems to be to have a separate 'writing space' and whether it isn't that we simply become attached to the place where we first started to write seriously. Which for me was a table with a typewriter, or later, a computer on it. It didn't much matter back then, only that there was a table and something to write or type on. Nowadays, particularly since we moved house, I must confess I've become addicted to my little writing comfort zone. (Note how I resisted the urge to tidy up. Also, how bored Molly looks. She's fed-up with the camera these days). Looking back, though, a consistent feature for me was to be facing a wall. I don't know why, but I still prefer it that way, though if I turn to my left I can see the front garden through an enormous, cleaner-unfriendly window. The postman has seen many a sight, walking past that window, I can tell you. Notably, me exercising on one of those step machines in front of This Morning, one day, wearing rubber gloves (I got distracted while washing up). Also, even though I can read a book on a crowded train, I can't write with anyone (apart from Molly) in the room with me, but I can cope with music or the tv turned down low.
I bought one of those knee-ly stool affairs last year, to make me sit up straighter and it does work in general, but makes my knees ache after a while so I end up straddling the thing like a tiny, well-behaved pony.
Of course, recently, there has been some bedroom activity with Laptop, (hardly suitable viewing for a family-friendly blog I think you'll agree), which did make me realise I can probably, if pushed, write anywhere once I actually Get On With It, but I still tend to drift inexorably towards this desk and this space most days. It's where I feel most comfortable and most productive, and is also my preferred place of procrastination...see that guitar there? It's not just to show how arty/bohemian and utterly creative I am at all moments (I do a bit of strumming now and then, but I'm never going to set the charts alight), it's just that I picked it up earlier with a view to dusting it and got distracted by some CD's that had fallen behind it that I thought I'd lost...sigh.
I think I've lost my thread.