Welcome to What’s on Your Desk? An idea that originated from reading an excerpt from American poet Louise Bogan’s autobiography, Journey Around My Room.

Each month, I’ll invite a writer to talk about their workspace. For the first issue, I shared mine, then Sarah from Searching for Enough, and now, I’d like to introduce Shondra Bowie from Relevant Sense.

If memory serves me, I first discovered Shondra through her After Birth essays, a series that retells her horrifying experience of having a stroke after giving birth to her son. Tension drips from the pages, and I’m looking forward to her continuing the story.

Shondra writes about being a disabled woman of colour and expat exploring loss, belonging and home. And I’m grateful we connected through our stories.

Where are you writing from?

I’m an American based in a town about 7 miles south of Edinburgh City Centre in beautiful Scotland.

I write mostly at my local library because it’s quiet. I also write from my personal office space, a converted corner of my dining area. My teen has taken it over with a MIDI keyboard connected to my MAC. Now, I practically have to make an appointment to use the space.

What does your writing routine look like?

I have been trying to get back into my routine since the holidays. I’ll tell you what I was doing before, which I’m starting to get back to.

Health issues forced me into retirement about 15 years ago. I don’t work, so my days are filled with parenting a neurodivergent teen and maintaining some semblance of physical and emotional health.

I journal every morning without fail. It helps the gook out of my head that might block my creativity. I got into this habit a few years ago, and it has done wonders for my mental health.

I go to the gym in a community hub above the library. It’s great because I can get some much-needed mild exercise. It helps because sitting for extended periods causes me severe pain.

If journaling is like giving my house a good ol’ clean, movement opens the windows so the air (words) can flow through.

Once I’ve gone into the Library, I pull my notebook, sharpie S gel, a pencil and highlighter out of my bag. I’m an avid note-taker, and I carry a notebook everywhere. It’s so 1900s of me! I know I can use my phone, but when I write things down, I stay connected to it.

I flip through the pages of my notebook to reconnect with what I’ve written. It usually contains poems in first drafts, outlines for essays, or started-and-restarted (or, as some may say, unfinished) to-do lists.

I like to warm up with poetry before moving on to whatever I’m working on at the time.

First, I read and revise a poem with fresh eyes. If it feels complete, I decide whether to publish it on my Substack or submit it for publication somewhere else. I often leave it and return to it to see if it has more to say the next day.

I write for a few hours at the Library but usually at home, too!

I kick my son off my desk at home and pop on some music. However, I can’t write when I listen to music with vocals; my mind wanders into the lyrics, and I lose focus. I love writing to composer Joep Boeving.

What are you working on?

Reading at Push The Boat Out, Edinburgh’s International Poetry Festival, reminded me that I have fallen in love with poetry over the past few years. I want to improve my craft, so I'm working on that now. I’ve taken up Nelly Bryce’s Poetry Pals challenge to write 100 poems in 2025. I already have 15 poems in draft form.

I’ve been writing short stories about a Black adolescent girl in 1984 in South Los Angeles. The project is evolving, and I think it will eventually become a book.

I’ve been trying to write the next instalment of my stroke story, After Birth. Writing parts 1-3 was cathartic, and I’ve started drafting Part 4, but it’s proving challenging to keep plunging myself into the worst time of my life.

I am also co-editing a book with another Black American writer in Scotland.

What’s on your desk?

My desk has pictures of my son and his cousins, my two Parlour Palms, Patrice and Fleur (Oui, nous parlons en français), Bose speakers, several notebooks, and my son’s MIDI keyboard, which I’m itching to play with!

The gallery wall above me features shots from my Dad’s photo book, Historically Black Los Angeles. They remind me of home, especially in the cold Scottish winters.

Relevant Sense

Poetry and essays on disability, midlife and shared humanity to cultivate depth, connection, and understanding.

By Shondra Bowie