Behind the Scenes at Abby Gabs

Most every writer that I know has a space they call all their own--a space where they "create."  They surround themselves with things that inspire them: books, quotes, objects d'art, photos. Whatever that writer considers a muse is usually somewhere nearby when they're practicing their craft.

I am no different.

Now, I like to imagine myself sitting at a little table on my own back porch, surrounded by flowers and trees and nature, words flowing like so much honey. Or maybe in a beautiful study, filled with natural sunlight from a big picture window, looking out on copse of oak trees. Or, better yet, sitting at an antique desk in a little bedroom, windows facing the sea, watching the tide come in as I'm struck with inspiration on a daily basis.  

Instead, I get this:

There's not much natural sunlight, I'm surrounded by original 1973 wood paneling, and there's not an ocean or a forest anywhere in sight.

But that's ok. I've taken the space I've got and made it my own. And like other writers, I've surrounded myself with the paraphernalia that spurs my creativity. So today, I'd like to share my little corner of the world with you. 

Coffee Landing Pad

I usually write in the mornings. It's when I'm most motivated, and when my ideas are still fresh in my head. However, without caffeine, those ideas quickly go "Poof!" and disappear somewhere within the confines of my very fuzzy brain. So, having a landing pad for my super-cool coffee mug is an absolute must. I also like to keep a pretty notebook handy, because you know what they say: creativity spawns more creativity. So I often have ideas for future blogs while working on a current one. The notebook gives me somewhere to jot down those ideas (even though they most often just end up on post-it notes anyway.)

Say Hello To My Little Friend(s)

I have two little knick-knacks that are always front-and-center every morning. They live under my monitor, and one of the first things I do every day is straighten them and think about what they mean to me. My Maneki-neko (whose symbol stands for fertility--or so the people at Epcot led me to believe) reminds me every day to keep dreaming. And the teeny-tiny Transformer reminds me to keep searching for the humor in the day-to-day. (Plus, it's cute. It's a teeny-tiny Camaro!)

My Thinking Cap (sort of)

There are two reasons why my favorite beach-going fedora can be found on my desk. Reason number one: I've run out of room in my closet and have no where else to store it where it won't get smooshed. And reason number two: It reminds me of the beach. And the beach is the one place on earth where I feel most myself. So, when I can't have my toes in the sand, I put on my beach fedora instead. You'll have to trust me when I say I look like an idiot while wearing it, but it still makes me feel great.

Words That Inspire

I found this little wooden sign at a discount boutique for $3. I snapped it up, brought it home, and I read it out loud every single day. On days when I wish for nothing more than to be somewhere else than I already am, these words remind me that all I have to do is delve into my writing and my wish will come true. It tests the writer in me, and challenges me to spend more time in the world of my imagination.

New Kids Corner

I've often blogged about my husband's Transformer corner. And last year, when I got my own little collection of New Kids on the Block figurines, I took a page from his book and created my own little shelf, dedicated to the boy band I adore. Donned with the poseable figurines, a delightful Donnie Wahlberg keepsake card (given to me by fellow fan, Kristin), and my Donnie Wahlberg desk calendar, and I've got all the muse I need in about a square foot of space.

Each and every one of these little touches, paired with a ton of framed photos of friends and family, a few great tunes, and my camera, help me create Abby Gabs. And I'm constantly adding to the collection. 

Which means, by this time next year I'll need the study by the beach just so I'll have enough room to store all my muses. (Especially if I get the full-sized New Kids dolls to add to my New Kids Corner.)

  Please honey?

Winter Daydream

I pull my car into the parking lot, anticipation already buzzing under my skin. Easing into a vacant spot (though all of them are vacant, at this hour), I turn off the ignition and allow myself a moment of sheer joy at the prospect of my next few hours alone. As I open the door of my car and climb out, the saltwater air fills my nostrils and the wind runs its fingers through my hair.


Quickly, quickly now, I grab my belongings--bag and towel and chair and umbrella--and lock my car up tight. Minutes later, my feet are in the sand, and I'm in heaven.

I kick off my shoes. The sand, still slightly chilled from the night before, feels good between my toes. The sun is barely risen--it's just past seven a.m.--and the beach is deliciously deserted. I stake my claim on a small plot of sand, plop down my chair, and decide to leave the umbrella for later. I want nothing to separate me from the sky, the clouds, the sun. I want to revel in the warm air. Let Mother Nature embrace me today.

I walk down to the surf, and let the waves break around my ankles. It is unusually chilly for this time of year. I wonder if there's a storm brewing beyond the horizon, but I clear my head of those thoughts, wanting to enjoy this moment without worry of rain clouds. A solitary paddle surfer inches by slowly, no doubt enjoying this beautiful summer sunrise as much as me. I stand and watch him, until he is under the sun. My chair beckons me, and so, I take a seat and stare at the sky for awhile instead.

The week's worth of stresses slowly melt away. There is no paperwork, no phone calls, no rush and bustle here. There is only the wind. The sky. The water. The smells I love permeate my senses: salt. Fresh air. The sweet smell of sunscreen, like so much coconut. I close my eyes and drift, letting the magic of the sea envelop me. After a moment (an hour?) the caw! caw! of seagulls wake me from my reverie. They take flight, the black tips of their wings shiny from the morning dew.

The sun rises higher in the blue sky, and my worries about a summer squall completely disappear. The day grows warmer still, and I know my few hours of solitude will soon come to an end. Still-sleepy children will race with delight to the surf, while parents smile and take pictures and set up camp amidst the dunes. Joggers will begin to parade by, sweat glistening on their tanned skin, arms pumping to the music in their ears that I cannot hear. Dogs of all ages and shapes and sizes will join the children in the water. And my quiet moment with nature will be over.

But that's ok. I've come prepared for the beach invasion. As I hear a child's squeal of glee over my shoulder, I slide my paperback out of my bag. The page is still folded down, and slightly damp, from last week's beach trip. I settle back in the chair, burying my feet in the sand as I stretch out, and dive into a book I've already read three times. The sun warms my shoulders, the sounds of people playing drift away, and I let the sea soothe my frayed nerves. I might take a nap later. Or a quick dip in the ocean. My schedule is wide open. The only plans for the day are to relax. Enjoy. Indulge.