What happens when your average everyday book club reads the oldest book in the world
Desk, Ball, Boxing
I'm on Desk Space this week.
The book-cave with the window overlooking domestic quarrels was the desk at which I wrote The Last Days...
But I did not sit on a yoga ball while writing that book. Although I did have a serious back incident just around the time when Romy and Neil were stowing away on the Nindawayma (the boat which, someday soon, will be the subject of its own post.)
The injury was a serious lumbar twist that had the effect of making me feel like I was being broken on the rack. I had to get frog-marched by paramedics down our narrow apartment stairs, since their stretcher wouldn't fit. and then, at emergency, I was provided with some pretty serious drugs so I could eventually limp out of there at a funny angle and they could have their bed back.
So yes, now I sit on a yoga ball. I've written two novels perched on this thing. And I go to boxing classes Tuesdays and Saturdays. And, so far, I have not had a repeat incident. Or I suppose I have, but not quite like that one.
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