Hello, hello, everyone, and welcome! Welcome to the grand tour of David Wellington’s home. David Wellington yes, that’s me, author of such books as Monster Island, 13 Bullets, and Cursed, to name a few. What’s that? Why am I leaning on this particular non-functioning fireplace? Oh, it was just convenient, but while we’re here perhaps you’ll take in what I like to call my Shelf of Immodesty. Yes, I’m aware that it’s not actually a shelf, but a mantelpiece. It seems to serve the same purpose, though, which is holding things up off the floor.
These are all my books, including foreign editions, anthologies, audiobooks, and my one and only comic book to date. Also a few variant covers, because it looks more impressive that way. That’s an Edward Gorey print over the books, which, now that I see it again, seems to be crooked. Let me just straighten that out.
I live in Brooklyn, where space is at a premium, so I do apologize that you’ll have to come through here in single file—yes, it is much easier if you walk sideways, the place is only about four feet wide at its maximum. No, I don’t find it cramped, here in Brooklyn we prefer the term “cozy”. The place is a fair bit longer than it is wide, conveniently enough, so if you’ll just keep moving in, yes, until you hit the far wall, there—now, you can look back the way you came and you’ll see the whole apartment.
Yes, I know what you’re thinking now. It’s rather minimally decorated, and offers little in the nature of creature comforts. But it serves my purposes. I find it very difficult to write when presented with any distractions, so I’ve sequestered these all to the upper right corner of the main room. That way, while I’m working, as long as I don’t turn my head more than twenty degrees to the side I don’t see them at all. You can just make out—if you squint—the red papier maché devil I brought back from Mexico. Those reading along at home might want to get very close to your monitors to see it better.
Oh, but of course you’re more interested in my bookshelves, so here I’ve provided a better view. These are in fact all of the bookshelves I have, which is starting to become a problem. I have far more books than I have space to put them—I suppose that’s a problem every writer has eventually. I knew a fellow in college, an English major, who had covered every bit of available wall space with books, and one day when I went over to see him I tripped over a pile of books on the threshold. He’d started walling over the door with books, you see. When confronted about the impracticality of this he said that he had no need to go out, because he hadn’t read all of his books yet. Occupational hazard. I try to avoid that by loaning as many books as possible to friends and family members. I can be assured I’ll never get them back, or, if I ever do, by that time I will have moved to larger quarters.
Here we are moving back the way we came, toward what I refer to as the main room. It serves the functions of a dormitory, dining hall, and office, as well as entertainment center, den, chapel, ossuary, examining theater, smokehouse, almonary, sitting parlor and cloakroom. That’s the nicest part about living in such tight space, of course. There’s far less walking from one room to the next. In fact, pretty much everything happens here, or at least, all those things I’m willing to publish pictures of on the internet. Ah, and if you look at the bottom of the screen, just there—well—let me give you another view, I just need to climb over your nice people in the back, no, please, don’t attempt to move, one of us will assuredly be injured if you do—
Yes, there, we come to the highlight of the tour, the place where the miracle occurs. This is my workstation, the forge upon which I hammer out the raw stuff of words so that I can present to you, the reader, the refined gold of my writing, the manifestation on this earthly plane of my own ethereal thoughts. It’s also where I search for pictures of amusing cats. Namely, my computer. I work entirely on the computer—again, it cuts down on distractions. I’ve always used a notebook computer, or at least I have ever since I’ve been published. Why? Well, I found it very difficult to balance a monitor, a CPU, a keyboard and a mousepad on my knees. Oh. You’ve heard that joke before. Well. In that case, I won’t keep you. Yes, you can file back out the way you came, as there’s really no other way to go. I don’t think you’ll get lost. Oh, and indeed, thank you so much for dropping by and fondling my private possessions. And please do keep in mind I counted the silver just before you all came in.