I spent the better part of today wandering through strangers’ houses, admiring their crown molding and kitchen updates. (It’s okay, it was all part of a local tour of homes. I wasn’t just driving up to random houses and demanding a tour. Although that would also make for a fun blog post.)
I saw a number of gorgeous homes today. My favorites are Victorian homes. (Which, as my brilliant historic house friend tells me, is not actually a style of house, but merely a descriptor for the houses built during the Victorian era. So actually, my favorites are the Queen Anne houses.)
I love Victorian houses so much that I live in one. I love writing at home because I love my house. It is rambling and has lots of nooks and crannies. There are countless places to write.
I also love it because the floors slope and nothing is level. It reminds me that things don’t have to be perfect to be whole. Whenever I’m stuck with my writing, I look at my stately, imperfect house and remember that while my writing might never be perfect, I can strive to make it whole.