So, one of the places I tend to write is at work. And for months, I worked at Arctic Star Printing as a copier operator. And while I am sad that I was laid off (and yes, I do mean “laid off” and not “fired”, I have the letter to prove it), I am grateful for the opportunity. I’m also grateful for working at a place where I can wear T-shirts and runners, so there’s that too.
Since I bought a Traveller the day I left this job, I can only review it based on using my Hemingwrite here.
The Ambiance
It’s a copy shop. Can I make it any more obvious?
Fine… the reason I’m wearing headphones is because, when that big ass copy machine is running, it is fucking loud. Usually, I wind up putting on a writing playlist to help centre myself as I write.
Also, there’s a real risk of ruining your clothes with toner, so no, don’t wear anything light coloured.
The Writing Experience
It’s cozy. There isn’t room for a whole lot of things on the table, which I guess is good for a distraction-free environment. But, I’m just documenting my part in a long standing tradition of writers. In Stephen King’s book, On Writing, he discusses his experience working for New Franklin Laundry in Maine:
The greater part of what I loaded and pulled were motel sheets from Maine’s coastal towns and table linen from Maine’s coastal restaurants. The table linen was desperately nasty. When tourists go out to dinner in Maine, they usually want clams and lobster. Mostly lobster.
By the time the tablecloths upon which these delicacies had been served reached me, they stank to high heaven and were often boiling with maggots. The maggots would try to crawl up your arms as you loaded the washers; it was as if the little fuckers knew you were planning to cook them.
I thought I’d get used to them in time but I never did. The maggots were bad; the smell of decomposing clams and lobster-meat was even worse. Why are people such slobs? I would wonder, loading feverish linens from Testa’s of Bar Harbor into my machines. Why are people such fucking slobs?
Stephen King, On Writing
In my experience, I think this was considerably nicer. Now, sure, the place was messy, we had random piles of paper laying around. Though, I printed all sorts of things for all sorts of organizations. I read expulsion notices for people from the various First Nations in the Yukon and Northern BC.
But, I also wound up reading the graphic novel So Much For Love here, so you know, that makes up for it. I also wound up reading much of Dylan Mulvaney’s book (before the bookmark fell out and I lost my place) and I started reading the first book in the Silo series, Wool.
The last two weeks of my working here were working on my first novel, and I think by the time I was let go, I had written 56,300-ish words towards the novel between my Hemingwrite and expanding the drafts in Scrivener. In fact, the story in the picture at the top of this article? It was a response to a prompt on Reedsy that became the basis for my first novel.
The Pros
Dogs! Specifically, there were two dogs constantly at the office and I’m pretty damn sure I took every opportunity to pet them. I only got a picture of one of them, which is a shame because the one I didn’t snap a picture of is much cuddlier and more receptive to petting. Though, this one eventually liked to come to my area. Probably because I had food I brought from home and would microwave at work.
Piss poor cellular signal. We’re in a metal box in the middle of Whitehorse’s industrial area, so needless to say, cellular signal is abysmal inside of it. And since we have no seating outside the building, this makes for a perfectly distraction free writing environment. If you have headphones.
The Cons
It’s a job. Yeah, I’m not really here to write, I’m here to copy shit for other people. Doesn’t mean I can’t get in some writing every now and then.
Limited food options. Unless you want to pay for DoorDash, the nearest food options are Klondike Kettle Corn or Compadres Burritos.
The seating sucks. Or maybe it’s just my back pain from working a job where I’m standing and lifting shit. Either way, this job definitely reinforced the ned to have both purse Tylenol and home Tylenol.
Verdict
4/10, it’s serviceable as a place to write but it’s not really meant for that, so don’t expect much. It’s a work place. But considering I wrote a lot of the first draft of my first novel here in this building, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention it.
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