This is the soundbooth.

In spite of our deep love for the restaurant industry, my wife and I both want to focus on our careers. Mine is writing, so that’s what this blog is about. My wife is learning the art of the voice over, and when she sent in an audition and was told “I love your work, but the sounds of the dogs howling outside are too much,” we decided that she needed a sound booth.

Oh my goodness. I just realized that I named my blog “Ted’s Desk of 1000 Voices,” and she’s the one doing the voiceovers. We are going to have to have some negotiations.

Back to the soundbooth. Let me just say that there is a lot of information about how to build a soundbooth on the internet. There are a lot of videos on YouTube. I tried to watch them all, and then I realized that each one said something completely different. Use foam. Use cheap foam. Use expensive foam. Foam doesn’t do anything. You have to have foam but it doesn’t actually stop any sound from traveling anywhere. That was just the foam advice. I did not see any videos of foam on fire, but I am assuming that the owners of those videos were too embarrassed to publish them on YouTube.

I settled on a three layered approach. Heavy mass, space, and sound treatment. My guest and good friend Bill M. gave me the benefit of his table saw and his wisdom, and we built that thing you see in the picture there. It still needs a door and three more walls, but it makes my wife sound like an actress. And the beagles? You can still hear them. You can probably hear them in Virginia City.

What does all this have to do with writing, you ask?

I think that in order to write, I need the proper space, just like my wife needs a place to record her voice. It has to be a place where she feels safe, where she can concentrate, and where she knows that her voice will be accurately reproduced.

I order to write, I have to be comfortable in my space. The beagles are a distraction, but nothing like problems at work or fear of the bill collector. Of course dificulty comes with life, but the more I can minimize it the more consistent I can be at my craft. I don’t need a big picture window to look out at the world, or a giant desk carved out of marble. I don’t need to be an ex-pat in Paris, or on the beach in Hawaii. When I write, I just need the kitchen table in The Cosmic Cottage and my imagination.