I surround myself with quiet. I depend on serenity to write. I have index cards that I create for plot points, characters, locales, and time lines that I line up in front of me when I am writing. I also have five pieces of paper on the wall that I often look at when writing. On them are the words SIGHT, SOUND, TASTE, SMELL, and TOUCH. In describing anything in a novel, I remind myself to always examine whatever it is through the five senses. That way, the story can be more real to the reader.
I sit in my bed and write until I can't think anymore. Sometimes a few minutes, sometimes a few hours. The longest writing day I ever had was when I told myself to finish Book 1 on a certain date. I was writing the last three chapters and going back through them until I liked them enough to finish for over twelve hours. My room, (or any quiet room, really, though mostly mine), is the only place I can write, though. Everywhere else is just too distracting.
I either write at my desk or on a laptop sitting in bed. In both situations I am surrounded with familiar things. I don't mind if the TV or music is on.
I have a comfortable home office, my computer credenza is packed with books and police memorabilia, American Eagles, Air Force memorabilia, photos, plaques, and a wall of barrister book cases containing novels and books by my favorite authors (listed previously). I have two windows and a glass door so I can look out over my backyad at the Bouganvilla, trees, and the birds at their feeder. My German Shepherd, Rico der Hunter III is always by the fireplace supervising me.
Quietness and isolation. When i'm alone, it helps me to concentrate extremely. Music is the only noice I allow when I'm writing. Except for when I have writers block. Then I accept thigns back into the writing area. It helps me to conquer my writers block. Other then that, it's strict isolation.
Lots and lots of notes, music, something to drink, a yoga mat for stretch breaks.
I'm near the fridge and I'm near the stove. I'm in a comfortable chair, have my snack and beverage at hand. After that, I need nothing. In fact, I have to concentrate on the time so that I pick my son up when school is out.
Either quiet or mindless back-ground noise, like the British Mysteries I've seen a hundred times before.
Color and Rick Savage. I love that man! I have a wall collage of him on my main living room wall, makes gorgeous wallpaper!
I also collect Breyer horses, which are very colorful with many different patterns. My desk is pin-point neat. Everything must have its place. Everything must be in order.
There are plenty of other characters in my space. My side of the bedroom is PINK! Everything is some beautiful shade of pink, from pastel to hot. My jewelry boxes, stuffed animals, ect. And again, it's perfectly neat. I must have order in "my space" to function. No one is permitted to rearrange my areas in the house, which are a spare bedroom called Coconut's Room, my side of the bedroom and my living room. My husband and daughter have free reign of the kitchen, bath, their rooms and downstairs.
Books and pictures that I find intriguing for one reason or another.
Easy access to music.
My notebooks - dozens of them.
I don't really care what's around me. I'm just all in my writing. When I'm writing, I imagine myself in a room with no walls, with a spotlight on me, my desk, my headphones, my computer, and my keyboard.
To really be productive... total silence.
I like to have a dictionary or thesaurus book, mellow music in the background and something to drink. I sometimes turn off my phone because I don't like to be in the moment and I'm interrupted.
Books, papers, and other reference material surround me in my workplace. To some people who do not understand the creative process, my work place seem somewhat disorderly. Nevertheless, it is well organized for my needs.
Again, depends on the subject matter. My first book was a true crime, double homicide. I surrounded myself with newspaper articles taped to the wall and because the crime took place in 1954, I clipped ads from old newspapers and pictures of products of the 50's.
When I wrote my second true crime, I was no longer working outside the home so my writing time slot was adjusted to the morning hours. Each morning, armed with a hot cup of coffee, I sat at my computer and became a part of my storyline. Enlarged photos of the victims were taped on the wall surrounding my work station. At 8:30 am I was greeting the victims' stories I was compelled to write.