Kathy Mak’s Writing Space

Like the way inspiration spontaneously emerges from a single grain of existence, my writing space is a simple, makeshift corner of the kitchen table. Sandwiched between a wall of house plants in pottery vases, and boxes of scribbles, doodles, scraps dating back from my childhood days, I work under the same fluorescent lights and clang of running water pots and pans. It is within this cavern of sounds that I’m able to create. Odd bits and pieces come to me at any time of the day, and I jot them down in my little red notebook. When it comes in the cold, rainy evening under a bus shelter, I use my phone to record these bursts and pen them in my notebook later. After dinner, I turn on my laptop to revise. The dark but glowing silence at night thrums in cadence to my own tapping. Being in this space of impromptu and homeliness makes me feel most at ease. Writing roots from a deep part of me and not everything may be seen as true in another’s eyes, but I aim to write from sincerity and care, the same notions this space has given me.