Write Place, Write Time

If you look at anything long enough, say just that wall in front of you -- it will come out of that wall.
- Anton Chekhov

Peter Straub

      

The 5th floor hallway leading to my office. A photo of the esteemed Mr. John Clute is visible in the foreground.

       

What you see when you get to the doorway. What do you know, it’s a desk! And a computer!

       

My desk from the cockpit, with glasses, water, and book I’m blurbing. (It’s good.) I’ve been sitting front of this view since 1985, and I’ve written all or most of ten novels here, plus four other books.

       

To my right, the sound system, with photo of Brubeck and Desmond. Life support, we might as well call it.

       

To my right, quaint obsolete sound-modules I once could listen to. Plus awards and truncated jazz musicians.

       

Directly across  from my desk, a leather couch and two Kitaj prints.

       

Wall of books and CDs in cases.

Peter Straub has written twenty books and won, multiple times, every award his genre has to offer and a bunch of others, besides. He is the father of that dazzling whizbang literary ingenue, Emma Straub.



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    dad’s office. He hates music,
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