How I love this desk—a six feet tall secretary that I’ve had since 2002, the year my son was born. The actual desk part is very narrow—just fits my small laptop and ever present mug of Earl Grey tea, but it’s my favorite place to write. I like glancing up from writing when I’m stuck in a scene and seeing all my treasures—pictures of my son, a mug he made me at the “paint your own pottery” place, my novel, The Meryl Streep Movie Club, in the North American and U.K. editions, a stack of books that always help me if I need inspiration: stories and essays by Pam Houston and two writing books, Bird By Bird by Anne Lamott and On Writing by Stephen King. I have a couple of pretty little lamps and a very tall tin cat that for some reason spurs my creativity. This desk is wedged between the wall next to a window and my couch in my living room. I could make a separate office out of a big spare area in my laundry room, but I love my living room and feel happiest and most inspired in that room, so it’s where I write.