My Writing Garret

By Nancy L. Agneberg

I write in a garret.

Do you imagine, when you read those words, someone perched on a window seat in the uppermost floor of a dignified English manor? Is a refined-looking young woman gazing dreamily out at a meadow abundant with summer wildflowers? Perhaps she holds a small leather-bound journal and an exquisite fountain pen. Soon a maid will bring her a cup of tea and a biscuit and ask, “Is there anything else you need, miss?”

What a lovely picture.  Aristocrati...