Ergonomic Sweetness

My husband is a sweetheart. A conversation about ergonomics brought up the realization that a new desk and or chair would make my life better and maybe even increase my productivity. So off to Office Max we went. And lo and behold, a sweet desk and chair were found! I haz a huge happy. :)

The new desk is a Z-line Zentra glass and metal thing of beauty.

 And the chair is a Serta. Sweet!

New Place, New Headspace

My husband and I have a new place. My office, the second bedroom in our apartment, is much bigger and has the ONLY balcony-access door on the entire complex. That's gotta be cool, right?

Also cool is the prospect of a new headspace. 2011 was NOT the best year for writing here at Casa Del Persephone Jones, so I'm hoping the change of scenery will prove creatively fruitful.

My Space

It's kooky, childish, dark, cluttered, cool, scary, cute, and mine. It's my writing space. I stumbled upon this really cool website called The Writer's Cave some years ago and I always said I would take a snapshot of my writing space and post a link to the website. Well, here's both.

Note the books--not a tenth of what I have to my name. But the titles make me out to be a horror novelist and yet I write about sex and monsters. Okay, it's official. I'm warped.

And the muse. Otherwise known as Bosko the pug.

And the link: http://www.paigecuccaro.com/html/the_cave.html

Oops, I Did It Again

No, not Britney...

Do I hear a thank God?

It's Nanowrimo time again.

The masochistic brain cells in my head are waking up to the possibility for pain and mental anguish.

William Styron

For those who have dwelt in depression's dark wood, and known its inexplicable agony, their return from the abyss is not unlike the ascent of the poet, trudging upward and upward out of hell's black depths and at last emerging into what he saw as "the shining world." There, whoever has been restored to health has almost always been restored to the capacity for serenity and joy, and this may be indemnity enough for having endured the despair beyond despair.

E quindi uscimmo a riveder le stelle.
And so we came forth, and once again beheld the stars.

By HILLEL ITALIE, AP NEW YORK - William Styron, the Pulitzer Prize-winning novelist whose explorations of the darkest corners of the human mind and experience were charged by his own near-suicidal demons, died Wednesday in Martha's Vineyard, Mass. He was 81.
Styron's daughter, Alexandra, said the author died of pneumonia at Martha's Vineyard Hospital. Styron, who had homes in Martha's Vineyard and Connecticut, had been in failing health for a long time.
A handsome, muscular man, with a strong chin and wavy dark hair that turned an elegant white, Styron was a Virginia native whose obsessions with race, class and personal guilt led to such tormented narratives as "Lie Down In Darkness" and "The Confessions of Nat Turner," which won the Pulitzer despite protests that the book was racist and inaccurate.
His other works included "Sophie's Choice," the award-winning novel about a Holocaust survivor from Poland, and "A Tidewater Morning," a collection of fiction pieces. He also published a book of essays, "This Quiet Dust," and the best-selling memoir "Darkness Visible," in which Styron recalled nearly taking his own life.