My office. It's drab and boring but quiet.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
My house. It's kind of eccentric. It's two decades worth of accumulated personal projects. Yeah, it is pretty dense in my house.
I can write anywhere that's quiet. I have a study in my apartment, but I often work in the kitchen of a house that we rent in the country.
I work in our living room, a strange room in a strange, topsy-turvy house. I work underneath this enormous bookshelf.
L.A. is my office. I come here for work and work only.
I have a gorgeous office at home but tend not to write there because there are so many distractions.
I want my office to be quiet. The loudest thing in the room - by far - should be the occasional purring of the cat.
When I write I find a quiet place.
I've spent so many years commuting, I kind of prefer a home office.
I have a lovely office at the back of my house; it's an old stable and you can see right out to the countryside on one side and into the house on the other side.
I don't have an office. I sit in a cubicle with everybody else. That's partly so no one can ask for an office, which in a fast-growing company isn't practical. But it's also so I can keep my finger on the pulse of how people are feeling.