My office is a shadow of its former self. The bookshelves are along the hallway, the cupboard and filing cabinet are elsewhere and even the pinboard and pictures are gone. There's still a desk and the wallpaper but both will still be gone. It's open and echo-ey.
Over the past few months I've been trying to work out how to rework a novel and in the post-cluttered room, the answer came unbidden. A bit like the holiday brain really...so full of plans and parties that there is room for little clarity when it comes to writing. But now those parties are mostly behind us (leaving plenty of good memories of course) and there's room for solutions.
For the first time that I reopen the novel file, I know where I'm headed.