I’ve been talking to thirteen and fourteen year olds about writing lately (as you do) and one of the things I found myself going on about was how you don’t need an office to write. I mean, hell, you don’t even need a desk. I’m not saying I don’t fantasise about that little “room of my own”, particularly when I’m being hoovered around/yelled at by small people/deafened by Spanish football commentary but I don’t NEED it. Like NEED it need it. I mean, I’ve written one and a half books without it. If you want to write, if you love to write, if you live to write, you will WRITE. Wherever and whenever. All you really need is your ideas and your love for the craft.
Oh, and maybe a nice laptop.
And a brain helps.
And some hands (so you can type).
Anyway here are some pictures of me, writing in silly places, which is what I do best.