About Me:

Aloha! I'm Wendy Kennar. I'm the mother of a seven-year-old son and a wife living in Los Angeles. I was a public school teacher for twelve years until a chronic medical condition made it necessary to leave my teaching career.

I've always been described as "quiet" - really, I'm just biting my tongue. I've got lots to say, and lots of thoughts to share, I just prefer to write them. That's the purpose of this blog. Each Wednesday, I post a personal essay offering my observations and thoughts.

A few fun facts about me: I've wanted to be a writer since second grade, when my teacher, Mrs. Jones, made me a "book" with a yellow construction paper cover. I have never learned to whistle, have always preferred sunflowers to roses, and have spent my life living within the same zip code.

Through the years, my writing has been published in the Los Angeles Times, Christian Science Monitor, United Teacher, GreenPrints, L.A. Parent, DivineCaroline.com, RoleReboot.org, XOJane, and Brain, Child Magazine. Additionally, my personal essays have been included in several anthologies, including: The Barefoot Review, Beyond the Diaper Bag, Lessons From My Parents, Write for Light, Being a Grown-Up: A User's Manual for the Real World, Ka-Pow!, How Writing Can Get You Through Tough Times, Breath and Shadow, The Grey Wolfe Storybook, and Sisters Born, Sisters Found.
I am a regular contributor at MomsLA.com, and you can also find me at Goodreads.

Thanks for stopping by and reading my blog. Feel free to comment and share my blog with others!

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

My Writing Desks


                       (This is my upstairs writing desk)

            I’m intrigued by a book I recently discovered.  The Writer’s Desk by Jill Krementz depicts fifty-five writers at their desks.  Actually, desks may be too broad a term; “work space” might be more accurate.

   It got me thinking about my desks and where I do most of my writing.

   Upstairs, in a corner of my bedroom, is a small, white desk with a pink rolling chair.  The desk is functional.  It’s small enough so that it doesn’t get cluttered with extras.  And I have consciously decorated it with only a few special items (a candle, a miniature Eiffel Tower statue,  a gorgeous heart paperweight - to name a few).  My little desk has a purpose:  it provides me with a work space, a hard table surface for my laptop.  A place where I can escape and try to squeeze in a little bit of writing time.  It’s not the most comfortable work space (akin to those found in coffee shops), but it gets the job done.

   Downstairs, up against a window in our living room, is my main desk, or “mission control” as my husband refers to it.  It is at this large wooden desk, that bills are paid, cards are written, appointments are made.  It is here where papers used to be graded and lessons planned.  This desk is where I keep our family, our home, functioning and running smoothly.  It is here, among reminders to call about my car insurance, that I also write.  

    And on days when the weather is agreeable, I love to write on my back patio.  Fresh air, the occasional hummingbird sighting, and I am in my own peaceful, writing bubble.  However, my writing is not limited to these areas. If it were, I wouldn’t get half as much writing done.  Sometimes, it’s just not helpful for me to write at home.  There are too many distractions:  the phone ringing, the pile of laundry that needs to get done, the dishwasher that needs to be emptied, the phone call about the car insurance that needs to be made.

   On days when I know my mind will be pre-occupied with household tasks, I choose to write elsewhere:  a favorite bookstore cafe, a local, independent coffee house, a bagel place.  While these establishments are certainly not free of distractions (crying children, loud cell-phone conversations), I am there to write.  I therefore can only do one of two things:  read or write.  And when both of those activities fail to keep me occupied, then I know it’s time for me to leave and return home.  

   I do fantasize about what my own “writing room” would look like (notice, I’ve upped the ante and moved beyond a writer’s desk to a whole room).  A small table that would always hold fresh flowers.  Candles.  Overflowing bookcases.  A large desk, just for writing.  For now, it’s a vague fantasy, but I am reminded of a Cosby Show episode from Season 8, “Clair’s Place.”  Finally, after twenty-years of waiting, Clair was given her own refuge, a soundproof room of her own.  I need to bide my time and just keep writing.

   And for now, my writer’s desk is wherever I’m writing.

                                           (This is my desk downstairs:  "mission control")


  1. I love your places to write,and your desks are so inviting.But I truly wish you would have a room just devoted to YOU.You do so much writing and now especially so much of your work is being published that you certainly deserve to have your own writing room.I love reading your work.I love you and I am very proud of you.

  2. I look forward to reading your blog each week. I have to agree with your mother as I would love for you to have your own writing room. Your mother & I are proud of you.
    love, dad

  3. Honey! This is a great article! I am so proud of the great work you do.
    I Love You!

  4. AWW!! I miss your cute home!! It is always so welcoming and warm. I miss you very much!! I love reading your writing.. Thanks for sharing!!