Finding the One: My Journey to Claim My Writing Desk

Three years ago I started to dive into my need to write, and for that many years I have been searching for the desk that would serve as my space to create. After much long anticipation, I finally found her - Helga, is her name, with Herman serving as my chair.

Helga is adopted from a woman named Anya, an artist who had needed to find her a good home. Helga comes with her brother, Herman, who was gifted to her as part of a set. Helga is blond with a sleek, Scandinavian desk, matching Herman's strong, stable support. Together, they are a formidable duo, who will now support me on my journey.

Ironically enough, Helga Hermann was the name of my third grade teacher who, unbeknownst to her, is part of my origin story as a writer. As part of a class project, we studied newspaper and writing, creating a newspaper for our class. I was fortunate enough to be a front-page feature about our field trip to the Kitchener-Waterloo Record. From then, I would have an on-again, off-again relationship with writing, but the support from this remains inside me and I am keeping it bottled up to sustain me for the many years to go. 30 years later and I am channeling Mrs. Hermann again.

What I did not know until looking it up is that Helga can mean "success" and "prosperity" while Herman can mean "soldier" or "army man." I see that in Mrs. Hermann, and I see these two names to spell out how I envision my future as a writer.

When I started taking writing a bit more seriously, my coach and friend, Kim, talked a lot about setting up a spot in your home where you feel most comfortable. During the pandemic, I started using our spare bedroom as my workspace so not to sit on top of my husband. A spare bedroom is a funny thing to have, especially during a pandemic, when you have no one to lend it to, so it became my office. The Robin's-Egg blue walls with popcorn ceiling encase our spare bed, a wardrobe and two end tables - all found items, whether discarded from family members or a spur-of-the-moment auction bid from Luke's around the corner. Until I would find "the one," I would use our DVD cabinet, repurposed from an old cabinet used by my in-laws and painted red, to serve as my writing space. It was just over a foot wide, which made it hard to have my laptop and writing utensils on, as well as no space underneath for my legs. I would use a rocking chair as my seat, which would eventually be turned around so I could put my feet up on the bed behind me and use my lap as my desk. This was not the set up I envisioned.

I believe it was Sarah Jessica Parker as Carrie Bradshaw in Sex and the City the movie that said "If I find the desk, the writing will come." Like her separation from Big (or Miranda and Steve's), the wait will be worth it.

Finding the right desk was important to me. I want this to be where I can settle in and just write, which is how this post came to be. I had started setting up my desk - moving the books that inspire me upstairs to sit on it's ledge and sorting out where my notebooks and notepads would be stationed - then I opened my laptop after a couple minutes of staring out my window, happy to finally have what I felt was missing on this journey. 

For almost two years I creeped Facebook Marketplace, Kijiji and Staples' clearance section. I had bookmarked a desk at Staples that seemed what I wanted, but once it was down to a reasonable price I could afford, the gas alone to collect it caused me to unsave the listing. Another failed attempt was through Marketplace, where the desk fit in my head as something I would love to see me at, but the owner was uncommunicative. As a Cancer, once you reject me, I forget about you and move on. But this last one, this would be the one.

The long road to this chosen desk was worth it, in that I had to drive 20 minutes to pick it up in a town south of where I live. My friend, Steve, joined me for the ride so I would not be alone in the middle of nowhere picking up a desk being sold on Facebook Marketplace. The woman was lovely - an artist who was ready to move out of her home - but you never can take those chances. Also, would the desk be heavier than anticipated? No, no it wouldn't be, nor would the chair that was thrown in as a combo. My mid-century modern desk with blue aluminum legs was very light I could carry it up the two sets of stairs to get it to it's new home. With the new pillows made by my mother-in-law, out of shirts that no longer fit me but I love the pattern, I can make this work - I had found it.

Stephen King would not like where my desk is: 

“Put your desk in the corner, and every time you sit down there to write,

remind yourself why it isn’t in the middle of the room. Life isn’t a support-

system for art. It’s the other way around.” 

Where my desk sits now, under the window and facing out to the row of backyards of my neighbours, is an idyllic spot. It's quiet up here, with little noise from the roads around us. My guess is this window used to look out on farmland, given our house is almost 100-years-old, with towering trees that are just slightly younger than our home. I can look out and not be distracted by too much, unless it's my neighbours puttering around, with children squealing at high notes only heard by Mariah Carey.

So now that these pieces are set, and two courses into my professional writing certificate with the University of Western Ontario, there are no more excuses. It is time to sit down and do it - write.