Writing, like flossing, is best done in private. Jane Austen, for example, was known never to answer the door without first slipping her manuscripts into the locked drawer of her parlor desk. Never mind that this forced her to write some of the greatest works in English literature in fifteen-minute increments: any true Austen fan knows that unattended text lies in grave danger of being discovered by the most unfortunate possible party. Virginia Woolf, Austen’s literary opposite, nevertheless agreed with her. The premise of A Room of One’s Own is, in fact, that “a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction.” Having someone rifle through one’s unpolished ideas elicits much the same warm fuzzy feeling as showing up to work having forgotten to put on both makeup and undergarments. Well, welcome to my bare-bottomed lack of eye shadow. So sit back, relax, and remember to keep in mind one question: Is it drafty in here, or is it just me?
