Terry Doyle’s Writing Space
My writing space is what would have been the master bedroom in this house. When I moved in, I immediately knew I would sleep in the tiny room at the back of the house and use this big, bright bedroom as my office, where I can put my desk in the middle of the floor instead of pushed against a wall. It’s got a glass patio door leading to a small, sketchy deck where I can gaze toward the East White Hills in St. John’s—a place where I went to walk and mentally edit my first two books—or I can sit out there on the sketchy deck and have a coffee during the 3.5 months of the year when the weather will allow it. There’s carpet and wallpaper from the 80’s, but I don’t mind. I have a pile of plants in here, and I have my SAD lamp on the desk, looming above the absolute mess of stickies and note pads. I’ve only been in this space for about a year and a half, and I can’t really be sure yet if anything I’ve written here will be something I’ll look back on as a success, but I’ve also been trying to reframe what success looks like when writing fiction. Success is getting to write every day while my son is at school. Success is the act itself. Who knows how long I can reasonably keep doing this before financial concerns overwhelm. For now, getting to sit at this desk during the day is cause to celebrate. How lucky am I!?
