This is our bed. I love it! I had bought this bed many years ago from a company in Vancouver, BC. It’s hand carved and majestically sits in our bedroom like a room unto itself. Or, more accurately, like a railroad carriage.
I do a great deal of my writing in the wee hours of the morning, sitting in bed propped up by a bounty of pillows and surrounded by six wee pups (who are fascinated by the laptop keyboard and all the tap tap tapping away I do on it).
Here’s what the bed looks like in situ:
Looks a bit messy because I jumped out it to snap a quick photo with my iPhone.
When I’m writing I turn off all the lights and do my writing by the glow of the computer screen (how romantic is that!). And in my mind I imagine myself sitting alone in a darkened railroad compartment that I used to ride in when I first traveled through Europe, England, and Scotland.
There is something very reassuring about sitting in a railroad compartment on a long train ride through darkened landscapes. You can’t see anything out the windows so your only options are: sleep, read, or write.
I generally chose to write. There was something about the gentle rocking, and occasional lurching, of the train that was conducive to writing stories.
Our bed is about the same size as a first class old-fashioned railroad compartment and the perfect place to write. I have fantasized about rigging up some sort of contraption to gently rock the bed to simulate the rocking motion of the train and the synoptic sound of the click, click, click as the wheels of the train clattered on the rails.
Just thought you might like to know what kind of surroundings I like to be in when I write.
Oh, and here’s the bed nicely made.