This image of the writer’s office is perfect.

If I had a wish list, I would want:

• A big computer
• A comfortable chair for reading and thinking
• A couch for guests and napping
• A music speaker

Maybe a treadmill too.

And maybe I need two desks, like artist Austin Kleon uses.

It’s less about the tools though, isn’t it?

It’s wanting every day to be a day in the life of a writer.

…I recalled the stillness of my father’s office when I’d first step in every afternoon. I used to race home to see him after school, down in his study writing; it would be so quiet in there. He’d be thinking, scribbling away with a pencil. He’d have been typing all morning, and in the afternoon, he’d go over his work line by line, and when you opened the door, you’d hear his pencil on paper, a quiet scratchy sound. He’d almost always be happy to see me. He could make me feel great. It’s so different having a living father who loves you, even someone complex and imperfect. After your father dies, defeat becomes pretty defeating. When he’s still alive, there are setbacks and heartbreak, but you’re still the apple of someone’s eye.