Finding the Right Writing Environment
Last fall, and again this winter, I took a couple of writing classes. They were fun, interesting, and more importantly, informative. In the class I took this winter, the instructor spoke to us about the importance of setting up a writing 
environment. She also shared some tips and tricks. Some I agreed with, and some I didn’t. While I agreed with her that it’s very important to limit distractions, for her, that even included music. At first, I was appalled at the idea of writing without music, but then I realized—that’s what works for her. It doesn’t have to work for me. And that got me thinking deeply about how personal the writing environment really is for every writer.
My First Writing Environment
When I first started writing, I didn’t worry about having a perfect desk, ergonomic chair, or quiet corner. My writing environment was wherever I happened to be. I filled notebooks and legal pads, scribbling ideas while balancing real life. Later, I’d type it all up on the shared family desktop in the living room, where the television was blaring, the kids were playing, and people were constantly talking around me. It was anything but quiet. Yet, the words poured out. I was more productive and creative then than I had been in years.
I wrote during lunch breaks at work (sometimes when I probably should have been doing actual work). I wrote while waiting at karate practice or sitting through ice skating lessons. My writing environment wasn’t structured—it was spontaneous. And during that time, I was at the height of my fan fiction writing. Was it award-winning literature? Not at all. But it made me incredibly happy, and that was enough.
The Pressure of the “Perfect” Writing Environment
In our last class, the instructor asked each of us to describe where we write. She proudly explained that she was transforming a spare room into a full-fledged writing area. Others described tidy desks, cozy corners, and perfectly curated spaces. Then it was my turn. Honestly? I mostly write on my bed. Sometimes I write on the sofa in the living room with the television blaring in the background. And when I assign my students a writing activity, I sometimes join them and write too. It’s not glamorous. It’s not curated. But it works for me.
For a moment, I felt guilty—like maybe I wasn’t a “real writer” because I didn’t have a dedicated writing environment. But then I remembered my most prolific years. I realized something important: the place doesn’t define me as a writer. The act of writing does. Having the perfect writing environment might sound nice, but I know myself—I’d get so caught up in designing it, decorating it, and making it “just right” that I’d never actually sit down and write. Case in point: I once spent 30 minutes searching for a meme about writing environments before finishing a post. Spoiler alert: I never found one.
Distractions, Libraries, and Real Life
Of course, distractions are real. Writing on the sofa or bed with the television on means I get sidetracked often. Part of me thinks maybe I should change locations. Maybe this summer, I’ll go to the library every morning. Surely that will 
give me a distraction-free writing environment… right? But if I’m honest, I’ll still find ways to procrastinate. The internet will be right there, and worse, I’ll probably start making up stories about other library patrons instead of finishing my own. Maybe I should just call that character research and move on!
In truth, I don’t think the physical writing environment is the key. It helps, yes, but it’s not the magic answer. The real secret lies in building the habit of writing—no matter where you are, no matter what noise is around you.
Writing Environment vs. Writing Mindset
Here’s what I’ve come to believe: a writing environment isn’t about perfection. It’s about finding what works for you. For some, it’s a carefully arranged desk with silence and order. For others, it’s a bustling coffee shop, a cluttered kitchen table, or even the notes app on a phone while commuting. The “perfect” space doesn’t exist universally—it’s different for every writer. What matters most is not the environment itself, but the mindset you bring into it.
If this resonates with you, you might also enjoy my earlier reflection on what it really means to call yourself a writer: I Am a Writer. That post dives into why writing isn’t about labels or spaces—it’s about action and identity.
Final Thoughts
At the end of the day, your writing environment should empower you, not stress you out. Whether it’s a spare room turned into a creative studio, your living room sofa, or a notebook balanced on your lap at karate practice, it’s all valid. What makes you a writer is not the environment—it’s the writing itself. Don’t wait for the perfect setup. Don’t waste hours curating the space. Just write where you are, with what you have, and let the words flow.
Because ultimately, the best writing environment is the one that allows you to put words on the page.
