Today is a sad day. Because it’s time to say goodbye to my writing cupboard.
The wife and I have bought a new house and moved out of our old flat. And so I am also moving out of the cupboard in which I spent so many hours writing.
It was my home for many years. My tiny writing sanctuary. A place to escape from the wife and create books that, hopefully, people would enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing them.
Over the last five years, I sat in my little cupboard and wrote one and a half novels (George Thring was already half done when we moved in and the whole of Killing Dylan was penned in there); a few short stories; two episodes of an ill-fated sitcom, which I co-wrote with my friend Matt (and no, it didn’t ever get anywhere near actually being on the telly); and many, many bits of marketing copy (my day job as a copywriter) for numerous corporate clients – and my mate Dave.
My cupboard was a great little place. It was cramped. It was cold. It was a little damp. It had no windows or any trace of natural light. But I could (only just) fit a desk and chair in. I could shut myself away and get some work done. And it helped create the stunning headline for the Crawley Observer: Man writes book in his cupboard!
So farewell little cupboard. You will be missed. But in the new house I get an actual whole room to write in. With a window. And a radiator. Imagine what I’ll be able to come up with in there?
Alastair Puddick 
You know what’ll happen, don’t you? The new room will be so comfy other people will want to share it with you. You’ll put in a sofa and read the papers on it, then have a nap, then read a book… there’s something to be said for a space that’s only good for one thing, with no distractions!
After so long in a cupboard, I’m quite up for a little comfort. But I take your point about distractions and people wanting to share my new room. Might have to invest in a ‘No wives allowed’ sign for the door!