Yes, I have escaped the trenches for a nearby hotel. I'm here for part of the weekend. Because the deadline for i so don't do famous is looming LARGE. And my house is filled with noisy, happy children and their noisy, happy friends. Which is all fun, but not conducive to writing. Also, my kids have a second President's Day off tomorrow.
So, do writers have rituals? I don't know if everyone does, but I have a few. I mean, a few too many!
I managed to snag my "lucky" room. This is not the fanciest, most comfortable hotel. By far. In fact, there is no microwave, which really bugs me. But...I always get lots written/revised here, so I keep coming back. Look, it doesn't even have a real door!
There are NINE society garlic plants right outside the little front patio. Guess what it smells like when you open the sliding glass door? ;)
I stocked the little frig with diet coke, bottles of water and, of course, milk for my tea.
This is my traveling electric kettle and my Arizona mug. Sorry, I forgot to turn the mug around, but I don't want to take the time to redo the photo. Anyway, the mug is from Arizona. Sherry is from Arizona. A good connection.
And here's the writing table, with all my stuff. From left to right: my laptop (which is basically my best friend), my favorite hair clip, a couple of brochures for research (one on Rodeo Drive, one on touring the stars' homes), my favorite pencils (the kind you don't sharpen, but pop the tiny piece of graphite in the top to push down the next piece), earbuds, a huge diet coke from Lake's Market (which has the best fountain diet coke in all of California. Probably.), a print-out of my outline with notes from Editor Wendy. Ack. I see I forgot my thumb drive. I'll get one of the kids to walk it over. I'm only a ten-minute walk from home.