Arvon - the ground breaking residential creative writing course people - are offering a whole week away as first prize in their new competition.
Here's the details from their website (click on the title to go straight there).
Edith Wharton would compose in bed on a writing board propped upon her lap, while Roald Dahl conjured his creations in a shed at the bottom of his garden...
When we posed the question to some of our tutors, we had a fabulous response. Penelope Shuttle likes writing in the attic, Isy Suttie in a messy bedroom amidst dirty clothes, while Simon Armitage admits his favourite place to write is in his head.
Now we're inviting you to take part in Arvon's 2011 competition to win an Arvon week of your choice.
To enter, please send in a piece of flash fiction or poetry that describes your favourite writing place. The winning entry will be chosen by Sunday Times journalist Cathy Galvin.
Send your story on a postcard with your contact details to:
Postcard Competition
The Arvon Foundation
Free Word Centre
60 Farringdon Road
London, EC1R 3GA
Closing date is 21 May 2011.
Instead of an entry fee to take part in this competition, the Arvon Foundation would be grateful for a suggested donation of £5.00 to support its charitable work. Cheques should be made payable to The Arvon Foundation.
Where do you write?
Me? ...tried both the dedicated office at bottom of garden and corner of dining room table with the television blaring in the background ...when it's not working they are too cold, too warm, too isolated, too noisy...when it is working then I think anywhere I can plug the laptop will do.
Me? ...tried both the dedicated office at bottom of garden and corner of dining room table with the television blaring in the background ...when it's not working they are too cold, too warm, too isolated, too noisy...when it is working then I think anywhere I can plug the laptop will do.
Not convinced by Simon Armitage: writing in your head is not the same as writing on the page. One is creating, dreaming, gathering together the stuff that might eventually solidify into a poem or a sentence. One is clouds: the other is concrete.
