I caved and bought Scrivener. I hope my novella thanks me.
I’m very particular when it comes to the ordering of my writing room. I’ve been back in my studio for nearly two weeks, and have been spending a lot of my spare-and not so spare-time tweaking the hell out of my surroundings. I’m not interested in perfection, which is too bad; that would be remarkably easier to achieve! Oh, I have all of the big basics in place-modern IKEA desk, vintage chair, shelves, design and storage space. What I’m looking for is more along the lines of the “I’ll know it when I see it/feel it” school of aesthetic and psychological satisfaction. I’m creeping closer to that amorphous goal by the day, one kooky tchotchke or inspirational magazine clipping at a time. Anything more committal and I feel like I’m slogging through molasses. My goal? To see a strange, beautiful and rotating array of images and words, books and art whenever I glance up from my keyboard, fingers fleetingly paused mid-stroke before they fall, deftly yet heavily, in service to another sentence. To be cocooned by creativity. That’s happiness.