I love my desk more than is decent for any human being to love any piece of furniture. But we're not talking about mere furniture here—this desk is my creative accomplice!

For years, I wrote at the kitchen table, but when I sold my first novel, I decided it was time to "get legit," and thus began my search for the perfect desk. To me, that meant something with character and class, and maybe with a few bumps and bruises and stories to tell (sort of like that one grandma who really lived it up back in the day).

I found my perfect desk in the back corner of a very scary top floor of an overstuffed, scabby flea market downtown. It's old-fashioned and sturdy, and covered with nicks and scratches, but still beautiful! I knew right away that this was the perfect desk for me!

I immediately began gussying up my desk, by sticking a purple decal that says "Play Create Imagine Dream" right across the center of it, and then making it shiny with little bling stickers that are everywhere in my office. Also, I slapped my "You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one. ~ John Lennon" bumper sticker on one corner and commenced to taping dozens of cartoons, jokes and inspirational quotes all over the top.

Mickey Mouse is very front-and-center on my desk. Cake toppers, toys and Hallmark collectible ornaments (some of these are Mickey and some are various Dr. Seuss characters) are scattered strategically so they're cheering me on every time I look up for inspiration (one Mickey is holding a Tina Fey quote I cut out of a magazine—"Life is improvisation"—for when I'm feeling particularly stressed), and all are overseen by my Mickey Mouse flea market night light/lamp and my gaudy plastic pink princess crown clock with the dream catcher necklace hanging off one corner of it!

Of course there are pics of the kids and of the Hubby, plenty of scattered manuscripts in various stages of revisions, an itty bitty Buddha statue and usually my cat George, who just loves to make my work all the more challenging by either standing in front of the computer monitor or stretching across the keyboard while my hands are on it.

I consider my office the one place in the house that is truly mine. I try to fill it with things that make me feel energized and hopeful and comfy and giggly. And my desk is the centerpiece of that office—not only where I park my buns to work, but where I go to feel like I'm at home. Believe it or not, I consider my desk a friend.

Author, columnist, All Around Good Guy... Jennifer has been writing since... well, forever. Two-time winner of the Erma Bombeck Global Humor Award (2005 & 2006), humor columnist for The Kansas City Star (winning the Missouri Writer's Guild 2008 Conference Award for Best Newspaper Column) and Saturday Featured Blogger for Mom2Mom KC, Jennifer has been out to prove since childhood that being a smart-ass can, indeed, be considered "making a living."

Jennifer writes and lives in the Kansas City, Missouri area with her three wonderful kids, adorable hubby, two cats, a boxer pup and the best basset hound baby anyone could ever ask for.

In the fifties, a Sri-Lankan-Canadian boy, living in England, went wild for the war films of the time. Films such as The Dam Busters, Reach for the Sky and Dunkirk were "like catnip to a teenager."

When he decided, years later, to write his own story about the Second World War, he remembered those films vividly. Images came to mind: a nurse and a patient having a midnight conversation.

He didn't know who they were or how they were connected. He didn't have a plan or a great scheme for a novel. He simply began with this small moment. Maybe, just maybe, he could walk away with a brief 120-page book. 

So he sat down, started to write, tried to discover what the real story was. "And it began with this plane crash..." he said. "Now, why did this plane crash? What did that have to do with this guy in the plane? Who was the guy? When was it happening? Where was it happening? All those things had to be uncovered or unearthed, as opposed to being sure in my head.... I tend not to know what the plot is or even the theme. Those things come later, for me." 

When they did come, Michael Ondaatje found himself with a lush story of love, loss and betrayal that ran much longer than 120 pages. Once published, The English Patient became a bestseller, won awards and hit the same big screen as his favorite war movies.