Writing chair, writing chair,
Wherefore art thou, writing chair?
Oh hello, are you talking to me? Looking for a chair? Well, I'm just the person to answer. After all, it is my chair to which you refer.
Cozy up to the fire and I'll tell you the tale . . .
Once upon a time my Prince Charming Husband bought me a writing chair. A writing chair! Of plum and plumpness. Of adequate length should I swoon. A plum spot for penning tales.
Then seven fortnights ago, Charming Husband asked a startling question— "What if we put your writing chair by the fireplace for the winter?"
What?! That's genius, dear husband! Genius!
So hefting my chair in one hand above his head, my true love transported said chair near the cozy flames. (Okay, so it wasn't one-handed, but splendidly heroic all the same.)
The following day, I scooted my chair flush against the hearth, as close to the flames as I could possibly get, and I've been concocting my stories happily ever after. (Except for the times I fell asleep—then the only things I concocted were those little Z's above my head.)
Find yourself a cozy writing spot today!
Write a book, take a nap, dream a dream, write the scene.