Behind the scenes with the bestselling author …
Like most people, I never had a desk at home before Covid. I was working fulltime running a publishing company and had a nice office of my own where I spent the requisite forty hours a week. When the pandemic began, I wrapped my iMac in a blanket and brought it home in the boot of a taxi. My husband and I carved out a tiny space on my dressing table for my computer, thinking it would only be for a couple of weeks. Well, we all know what happened next.
Working from home changed everything. I missed the office because I adored my colleagues, but the fun of the job began to wane over that long two years. I found that, surprisingly, I liked the solitude, and appreciated the peace and quiet. When we went back to the office, I was forced to admit to myself that the thrill of the profession in which I’d climbed the ladder for 17 years had all but left me. Soon, I was dreading things I used to love – cover shoots and gift guides suddenly felt like a chore.
Entirely serendipitously, it was around this time that an editor from the Irish imprint of Penguin Books contacted me. She had heard through the grapevine that I was interested in writing fiction, so it was the most exciting email I’ve ever received in my life. It sort of solidified what I had already been thinking; I was ready for a change, there was a new dream to follow. I handed in my notice before I’d even signed the book deal.
Over the following two years, I wrote two bestselling novels at that desk in our spare bedroom (and a third, but it remains to be seen if that will make the all-important chart). It was a huge Ikea thing, with my light-up mirror and make-up to the left, and my iMac and notebooks to the right. I’d push whatever wasn’t in use to one side, sometimes blowdrying my hair using the screen of my computer as a mirror out of laziness! I frequently bemoaned the fact that the little room was also used for storage and drying laundry, but really I loved that strange, multi-purpose space. It was chaotic, cluttered and a little bit feral, just like this budding author. But it was also peaceful and serene in its own way, and my little dog slept in his yurt beside me as I typed.
In March of this year, my husband and I bid that home farewell. We were very lucky to upsize in our beloved Stoneybatter and my property wish had come true – I had an office with lots of bookcases and room for a big squishy sofa to “think” on. I hit pay-dirt really because there’s also an original fireplace. After a three month renovation, it’s the most beautiful space plucked straight from my wildest dreams. We painted it the colour of an iced latte, south-facing sunlight trickles in the window and the nook my desk sits in looks like it was made for this purpose alone. There’s no grubby foundation bottle in the way as I clack away on the keyboard, no fighting for space with my own belongings. I’ve surrounded myself with my favourite pop culture imagery, a leopard print rug, a full shelf of my own novels. The most special part? Three book covers with my name on them, displayed in frames on the wall. It still doesn’t feel real.
As I promote my third book and work on a draft of what I hope will be my fourth, I know how lucky I am to have a space like this. If it wasn’t for the upheaval caused by the pandemic, I may never have had the courage to leave office culture behind. For me, it was a life-changing silver lining on the darkest of clouds.
Anywhere But Here (Penguin Sandycove) is also available as an e-book and on audio.
SEE MORE: How I Write – Edel Coffey
