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

Sherrie Flick

I’ve taken to writing on my deck this summer. It isn’t attached to our house but instead to a garage that we converted into a writing studio on the opposite end of our property. I live in Pittsburgh on the South Side slopes. Everything slopes, it’s true. And our yard runs uphill from the house to the studio. So I must trudge upwards when I want to write. This is metaphorical on most days, yes. But I am rewarded with a view. I like writing on the deck because it’s sparse. Just a simple table and chair. I can’t get too distracted. I tend to bring up a glass of wine (I write in the early evening while there’s still light, but it’s time to drink wine.). Sometimes I bring the bottle if I feel like I’m going to be up there a while. Pen, notebook. The lovely water pitcher you can also see in this photo was made by my friend John Fleenor. I sit down and look out over my city—its downtown and Oakland neighborhoods—while I write. My garden, which you can’t see in this photo, is nestled below the deck and runs the length of our long, skinny yard. It’s abundant and inspiring as it sits below me and my scribbling. Patient. Nearly every time I sit in that chair I feel lucky. 

Sherrie Flick is the author of the novel, Reconsidering Happiness, and the flash fiction chapbook, I Call This Flirting. She lives in Pittsburgh where she teaches, edits, gardens, cooks, and blogs about food.

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