At My Desk
Hi. Welcome to my desk.
I wrote my first romance novel twenty years ago. That and my following thirteen novels languished unloved until I started submitting a few in 2011. After I found a publisher who would accept Australian romances, I sold the first, Dr No Commitment to Random Romance in 2013. Random Romance published my second, Losing Patients, this month.
I have two daughters, no cats, dogs, or rabbits, and an abiding love of cooking, designing, and peace, which is why I have no cats, dogs, or rabbits. Daughters take up enough emotional space.
My writing area is an annex off my sitting room. I have eclectic tastes and the theme of the room is mixed, shown by my collection of ginger jars, an Indonesian antique screen in-filled with an antique Indian sari, Australian paintings on the walls, and Persian carpets on the floors. I have one red wall, and a tiny set of shelves that my father made for my mother out of part of an old sideboard his next wife’s mother gave him. I had a complicated upbringing, which probably led to me writing complicated relationships into my stories. To put these stories to paper, as it were, I use a computer on an antique mahogany desk that previously graced a doctor’s office. The dear old thing might not look interesting but the tales it could tell would make better stories than I could invent; tales of real people and the hopes and fears they must have needed to share. Perhaps I channelled the desk, because my first two published books have a medical setting. My third, in last stage of editing, is Starling an Australian set historical romance which will be released by Kensington, Lyrical next year. My fourth is also an Australian set historical with no publication date as yet.
My fifth, another Aussie set historical has not yet been submitted and so I can say I’m working on that, though not very hard because it’s finished and I’m only holding a polite breath before sending off the manuscript.
The best part about my desk is that the bottom two drawers on either side are disguises for built-in filing cabinets. This is where I keep my many rejection letters, correspondence from my ex-agent, research bits and pieces, newspaper clippings, A4, and treasured writing award certificates. The other drawers are like every other writer’s, full of pencil stubs, secret codes, dried up pens, handcuffs, Sambucca, feather boas, ripped bodices, and kilos of Haighs.
Mainly I have one or two dreg-laden coffee mugs on the desk, but for the photo I cleaned up.