My office has a window. It’s not nearly a window wall but it’s larger than most windows. And it overlooks the north woods where I live. I merely peek outside and see the yard and then, less than 20 feet beyond, the forest.
Needless to say, having that window in the room where I write influences what appears on the page. Desert stories? Not so much when the forest is so close. Ocean voyages? How can I think of oceans when I’m staring at a wall of trees?
Okay, I can pull the blinds and sometimes that’s exactly what I do so as to be able to concentrate on the story I’m writing instead of the world I can enter by stepping outside.
My present story involves this very forest, but it’s set in the middle of winter so even writing that story requires that the blinds be drawn some days. Other days the green grass and the ferns beneath the trees and the fluttering leaves on the hardwoods don’t seem to distract me.
I don’t know why I’m that way, needing privacy on some days and other days being able to enjoy the view even if it’s wrong for my current story.
But I know that if this current story is to be finished I must do whatever is required on a day by day basis.
Today I’ll leave the blinds open.
Think that’ll work?