I share my writing space with my guest room and baby changing location. As a result, my “office” is actually a desk shoved into a closet. Beside me is a (very ugly) daybed for guests. Across the room is a trashcan of poopy diapers. Three standard bookcases are overflowing with the books I’ve collected throughout the years.

It’s not exactly ideal.

I have dreams of converting this room into a beautiful home office and library. Built-in bookcases will keep my paperback collection organized and attractive. A walnut desk will hold my computer, files, and manuscripts. A sleeper sofa will give me a spot for reading and napping while also providing guests with a comfortable bed for resting their heads.

It’s a nice fantasy, and one I may achieve in the future. In the meantime, I’ve learned to appreciate my writing space. It may be cramped. It may be chintzy and cheap. It may smell like diapers. But it’s all mine.