A Writer's Home

 

Last week, while scrolling a link roundup, I happened upon this article about famous writers’ homes you can visit.

It occurred to me as I read that I really haven’t visited too many writers’ homes in my travels. I remember my parents taking me to Hannibal, Missouri, when I was probably about a third grader. We visited all the Mark Twain spots while we were there, and it may also have been that same trip that we started visiting Little House locations. I’ve since returned to one of those with Ryan and have it on my list to visit all the rest eventually.

That’s all that’s coming to mind for me, which makes me sad! I need to tour more writers’ homes!

But the article did make me think (as a writer) about what I would hope people would see in my home if they ever came to tour it. I should pause to say I have zero aspirations of being known as a famous writer and laugh at the thought of my house being transformed into a tourist destination. But when I think about what I would want to see glimpses of when visiting a writer’s home, it makes me wonder what I would want people to see about my home if they came to catch a glimpse of who I was as a person and a writer. (I say was, because you know they only turn your home into a museum after you’re gone, right?)

Of course, I’d want them to point out our dining room and talk about how we loved to eat together in that space every night – and how we’d stretch out the table to cram as many people around it as we could when we had the opportunity to entertain.

Then there would be the coffee area, because I could never have written the words without the liquid inspiration, right? I’d want them to mention that every coffee cup had a special story behind it and choosing a favorite was nigh unto impossible.

I’d want them to give a full tour of the kitchen and tell the story of the island with all its sentimentality. I’d want them to tell of my love for cooking and baking and show how the window over the sink reminded me of a cruise ship window, looking out over the water with no land visible below.

The tour couldn’t move on without the desk overlooking the water, where most of the words were penned. (The dog bed will have to stay right beside the chair to represent how Lexi would sit beside me during writing parties.)

Then everyone would have to move into the overflow office with all the notes. No author’s space is complete without the hodge-podge of notes. Serious time would need to be given to the bookshelf and all the book babies – my own and other writers’ babies. The pieces of inspiration that led to the words pouring out of my own heart…

Our little room would be a stop on the tour too. Everyone would have to step in one at a time, because there isn’t that much room to walk around, but it sure shows off the cozy.

And then everyone could move to the great room and appreciate the stunning lake views and the cozy evenings spent alternating between writing and watching TV. They could point out the pictures scattered around the room that nod to the people and places that had been meaningful to us in our lives.

From there, the tour would have to move outside to look at the patio, the garden, the pier, and the sunset views. Chairs all around, snacks and coffee on the house, and the quietness to appreciate the inspiration of waves lapping against the shore and the boat.

(I’m not Anne of Green Gables, so there isn’t a rowboat, but there is a pontoon!)

The house isn’t big, so the tour would short in terms of steps, but I would hope it would be long and rich in stories.

That’s what I would want. For me, a writer’s house isn’t nearly as much about the architecture as it is about the inspirations that fill the architecture. That’s what I’d want to see preserved.