Where do Fiction Authors Write?

I admire Hemingway's writing and his iceberg principle. I know he hung out in a bar in Havana and I would have loved to meet him for a quiet chat. I have heard that he wrote standing up. Now that's kind of weird, but whether you are standing up, sitting or lying down, writing is hardly exciting to watch. Reader I will readily agree with you: observing someone write is undeniably boring. What's important is the process in the author's head and what's even more important is his work. Where this process takes place is immaterial. Still, it is one of the questions that have plagued me since adolescence.

Why is it important to me? Do I want to have a mental picture? Do I desire to mimic? Or is it something beyond that? The bottom line is I don't care why it's important to me, so why would you? What's interesting is that this meaningless question, or its answer has been associated with most authors I know. I was on a bus tour of Edinburgh the other day and as I was staring out the window our tour guide pointed out a tea and coffee shop called The Elephant House. Now what exciting thing could have happened there, in the midst of historic Edinburgh? A meeting of great politicians or the planning of a revolution? “That's where J K Rawling wrote her first Harry Potter book,” said the mechanical voice. You see? My curiosity is hardly unique.

So where did famous fiction authors write? Just about everywhere you can imagine. Flannery O'Connor sat facing the blank surface of her wood dresser so she wouldn't be distracted. William Faulkner was working for a bootlegger in the day, drank with friends at night and then early in the morning he would isolate himself to write. Vladimir Nabokov wrote everywhere and anywhere with a pencil on 3x5 inch index cards. Truman Capote wrote at home lying flat on his couch or in bed with coffee and cigarettes lying handy. Stephen King goes down to his basement all day and Margaret Atwood loves doing it on air planes.

Doesn't sound very exciting, does it? But their books are, and they are famous authors! Perhaps thriller writers have found better solutions. Len Deighton for instance wrote his first books in the public library. Later, when he had made enough money, he bought a mountain villa in Portugal that faced the ocean. How terribly romantic of him. But he wrote nothing there. He soon sold the villa and returned to the public library. Then there was Eric Ambler. He valued isolation but because he had little money, he rented hotel rooms in out of season places. He ended-up writing Cause for Alarm as the only guest in a small hotel (in Peira-Cava in the Alpes Maritimes) nursing hot bricks on his knees and feet. It cost too much to turn on the central heating for one person.

Still want to know where famous authors write? Well, there was Ian Fleming. He bought a piece of land in Jamaica after the war and built a cottage which he called Goldeneye. He stipulated to his employer (The Sunday Times) that he wanted a two month leave every year. So when rain and sleet came down on London every January he flew up and out of there. It was warm and sunny in Jamaica. For two months, he wrote every morning and just before lunch he put on his goggles and flippers and explored the small private bay in front of his cottage. In the evenings he played cards or Scrabble and had dinner with his friends and neighbours, his closest being Noel Coward. And long after his death, it was discovered that he also had a running affair with a pretty neighbour.

Well reader, I don't know about you, but you can keep the basements, the wood dressers and the couches. I have no objections to cafes and public libraries where I can surely afford a coffee. However I see nothing wrong with what Ian Fleming did. I know, I don't like playing cards or Scrabble, Noel Coward is dead and that his then girlfriend is, by now, a fine old lady.

But I am sure I can find another way to spend my evenings. Perhaps the lady has a pretty granddaughter!