I was at Homewood Winery in Sonoma, sitting outside on a tall, wooden table with an English lab gnawing on a pinecone at my feet. I was sipping sauvignon blanc, enjoying the sun on my skin, and gazing out at the newly-sprung flowers when it hit me: I could probably finish my novel if I had my laptop right then and there. I've found my happy writing place. Even though I've still got at least 60% of the book to write, I was inspired and content and fueled by the perfect weather in the perfect location.
Unfortunately, California wine country comes with a hefty price tag. What's your happy writing place?