Glass Box Office

From Gritty Space to Quiet Sanctuary

AGGRAVATION

My husband deserved respite from we’ve come to call “Editor Shouting.”

During our videoconferences, Rachael Eckles and I are enthusiastic about fine-tuning the manuscript for Emerald Eyes, a dark coming-of-age saga spanning 1913 to 1987.

Wearing headphones just made me louder. Discussions about publishing my debut novel on September 15 reverberated up from my basement office and echoed throughout our small, open-plan home. I needed a door but lacked a spot to install one.

Left: The pre-remodel version of the downstairs office in 2002, before the home’s foundation was rebuilt. Middle: View of my desk by the walk-out basement’s door to the backyard. Right: The space also serves as a guest room.

INSPIRATION

A February road trip, with an overnight in Coxsackie, New York, stirred an architectural yearning.

“I want to work in a glass box,” I declared to Matt Davis while looking at the frozen Hudson River through the windows of our hotel room.

Admiring the major artic blast from the warmth of our corner hotel room at the voco James Newbury Hudson Valley in February.

Matt directed AI to generate mock-ups for such a writing space. He seemed inspired by the Infinite Monkey Theorem, whereby a monkey hitting a typewriter keyboard for an infinite amount of time will eventually create a manuscript—not unlike the dozen years I’ve spent on this, my fourth attempt at a book. He seemed to believe my productivity would be aided by screeching opossum assistants.

What does my husband see when he watches me work on Emerald Eyes: A Novel?

CONSOLIDATION

The mesh panels of our screened-in porch needed to be replaced. The daybed we made in 2010 was gritty due to a nearby large-scale aggregate mining operation plus a munitions testing arsenal. Ours is a small house, yet we hardly ever used this space with an amazing view.

Home improvement television enthusiasts, the idea of a project excited us! We’ve accomplished several since moving into our 1952 lake shack in 2000. This investment could solve two problems at once.

The deck became unsafe and the roof leaked, so we renovated. The process began in 2006 with selecting an architect that we had to fire in 2008, and finished with a different team in 2009. We added a screened-in porch, which included a daybed we built, coffee table we made, and Jellyfish House rocking chairs and ottoman/table designed by Wiel Arets for Quinze & Milan.

Matt evaluated and rejected several contractors, with Freddy of Vision Art Aluminium becoming the clear choice. Freddy provided drawings, educated us on options, listened and incorporated feedback, then did everything on time and on budget. He is as passionate about glass as I am about writing.

During the project. First up: Getting a split system for heating and cooling. Right: Freddy’s team replaced the screens with glass, then removed the poorly functioning sliding glass door and stationary glass panels, and installed accordion folding doors.

PERSPIRATION

As with the rest of the house, we handled the interior design. Each steps was a do-it-yourself project, with Matt tackling repainting while I worked on a manuscript deadline.

We spent a lot of time on the floor. Adding a vapor barrier, sub-flooring panels expertly cut by Matt, and carpet tiles by Flor that he also surgically snipped to perfectly fit.

Matt Davis repainted the Glass Box Office a color he renamed Emerald Eyes. Carpet installation has begun.

For sound-dampening, we found felt acoustic panels that resemble Lego bricks on Etsy and installed them with double-stick tape once the package arrived from Poland.

Each phase of the DIY project shocked us by taking longer and being more physically demanding than expected. It made me wonder whether I might be feeling my age at 60. Nah. We still exude dewy youthfulness. (Or perhaps that was sweat?)

SATISFATION

Usable space to write a novel or relax and hang out.

The old ceiling fan was replaced by one with color-changing LED lights by Govee.

After a self-inflicted wild goose chase, we sourced a modern couch from Interior Icons, a company that touts fair wages and a commitment to sustainability. And unlike other stuff from other places, it isn’t upholstered in gray!

For better balance, we cut down and refinished the coffee table we made from a slab of wood and legs from HairpinLegs.com of Columbus (my novel takes place in a nearby fictitious central Ohio suburb).

We now had an idea of how much space was available for my new desk. A rectangle didn’t suit the vibe of the space. Rounded edges were called for and I had a mental picture of a kidney-shaped table on wheels. It didn’t exist—until I found STUDIOPOP, a super-cool father-daughter team in New York State willing to combine the design of two different coffee tables (Perry + Ethel = Pethel) into one bespoke desktop.

The Krille table legs came from IKEA, the same style I’d had on my old desk, which we donated (I picture a kid doing creative things on this table, and growing up to live a wonderfully happy life). I also upgraded the wheels on my Herman Miller chair with The Original Rollerblade Office Chair Wheels from The Office Oasis.

The finishing touch? A desktop inspirational sign from Aphrodite Books declaring: “Story first. Perfection later.” Words to live by!

TRANSFORMATION

The project made me think about how far we’ve evolved this property from Lake Shack to Dream Home.

The great room in 2000 and today. I don’t miss the glare or the drips from those 20 skylights installed by the previous owner.

Our house in July 2000 and July 2026, as seen from the backyard.

I now have my perfect Glass Box Office. When the accordion-fold doors close, they contain my exuberant chatter about my multigenerational saga, which explores how complex women can reclaim domestic space from patriarchal control.