This is the writing desk in my childhood bedroom. It’s an old (vintage?) vanity. I decorate the desk with a faux antique globe, a few favorite books, and my little buddhas, who I like to think, bring me good luck.
Since I became a capital “W” Writer, I lived in many places. I used to love to write in the Starbucks* on Princes Street, in Edinburgh, which had a view of the castle. In Dublin, I’d write in the Costa Coffee on Grafton Street. In Sydney, the Starbucks by Hyde Park, with the beautiful green-eye barista who told me I was pretty on the day before I left (though he could have never known). In Cork, I wrote in the public library, shoulder to shoulder with teenagers in blue plaid school uniforms who were always getting shushed. In New York City, I wrote at Irving Farm, which has the best bagels. I wrote most of GIRLS WHO TRAVEL there. And in London? Well, my favorite place is the Starbucks on Holland Park Avenue: it’s right by a French primary school and listening to the children speak French over the folk music created a special din conducive to creativity.
*Say what you will about Starbuck’s coffee, but their coffeehouse are perfect for writers: lots of plugs, good music, and you’ll never, ever get asked to leave even after sitting there too long with the same coffee you bought five hours ago