"For years I dreamed of having the sort of massive oak slab that would dominate a room…. In 1981 I got the one I wanted and placed it in the middle of a spacious, skylighted study… For six years I sat behind that desk either drunk or wrecked out of my mind…. A year or two after I sobered up, I got rid of that monstrosity… got another desk — it’s handmade, beautiful, and half the size of the T. rex desk. I put it at the far west end of the office, in a corner….I’m sitting under it now, a fifty-three-year-old man with bad eyes, a gimp leg, and no hangover….It starts with this: put your desk in the corner, and every time you sit down there to write, remind yourself why it isn’t in the middle of the room. Life isn’t a support-system for art. It’s the other way around."
Stephen King, On Writing