How can writers get a room of their own, literally or figuratively? In Away, an essay in the summer issue of the Virginia Quarterly Review, Roxana Robinson writes about carving out private space in the midst of being over-saturated by the world around you:
You can call it a blessing, I suppose: You’re never bored. You’re always interested in what’s around you. Or you can call it a curse: Writers get no time off. There’s never a moment in which we’re not measuring experience against knowledge, searching for something new. For me it’s simply how it is: I don’t know another way to move through the world.