When a Writer Buys a House

What happens when a writer buys a house?

Is it any different from a “normal” person buying a house?

It sort of depends on what you define as normal–and whether or not that writer is married to a normal person.

Or an engineer.

My husband and I have purchased four homes in our years together. In between, we usually lived in Navy housing (thank you, American taxpayers).

Each purchase was fraught with tension–because you had a calm, rational engineer and an imaginative spinner of fiction purchasing a home together.

Here are four points to consider, whichever type of person you are, when a writer buys a house.

1. Each house you examine requires inspection–both rational and emotional.

* Rational: The engineer in our family could look at a house and determine if the roof was in good shape, the gutters working, the state of the foundation and the practicality of the price.

Indeed, on the last house purchase my husband put together a spread sheet analysis of cost per square foot.

It helped us see if the property was a good value or overpriced.

* Emotional: I appreciate his diligence and am thankful for him. I, however, had to deal with other issues.

For me, each new house is an opportunity to imagine my life if I lived in that particular house.

That’s my job, right? Imagine scenarios and try to rescue, er, settle the heroine in them.

One house we looked at years ago in Washington had tiger wallpaper in the living room and no books anywhere in the house. “I can’t live here,” I complained to my husband, pointing out the wallpaper and lack of literary interests.

He was patient. “We can change all that if we buy the house. You have to look past the current furnishings.”

He was right, of course, but after three days of imagining myself in so many different place, we gave up and went bowling.

2. Different people appreciate different aspects of a house.

(You already knew this, didn’t you?)

*Rational: My husband looked for a place his tools could be accessible. A roomy garage was a plus.

He wanted a minimum amount of yard work.

As an engineer, he appreciated a simple roof that didn’t have many, if any, unusual angles.

*Emotional: I once read  that far more houses were sold for the view out the window than for what was actually inside.

I wanted a view.

I didn’t require a sweeping-over-the-countryside view, a look-up-at-the-mountains view would be sufficient.

Maybe I’m spoiled, but that was me. I looked out the windows of every house we examined. My husband eventually got the message.

3. Sometimes you need to meet the owners and let each partner exploit their strengths on the sellers’ weaknesses.

*Rational: One of the owners is always more interested in the physical plant. My husband’s love for birdseye maple paneling won him the admiration of a seller, who bent over backwards to help us buy his house. (I had no idea what he was talking about).

On other occasions, he also appreciated the water and electrical schematics provided by a seller; volunteered to keep a cement mixer; and bestowed mercy when we purchased a house from a recent widow.

* Emotional: I got into a long discussion about gardening with the owner of a fine house with a stunning garden. I correctly identified almost every plant in her yard and discussed pruning techniques.

Sellers want to know their labors of love are going to someone who appreciates what they’ve put into their homes. My research–and life–skills honed as a writer enabled me to imagine what was important to the seller and close the deal.

4.When a writer buys a house with imagination and an eye for detail– her strengths could make the difference.

We were warned by our agent while trying to buy a house in a hot market. “This will be tough. Four others are bidding on the house. You may have to be creative. You may even have to write a letter explaining why you should get the house.”

We looked at each other and grinned.

*Rational: We can afford this house. I’ll just bid up until we get it.

*Emotional: “If it’s a writing contest, we’ll win.”

Agent: “You don’t know that to be true. This house has drawn a lot of attention. They’ll probably be a bidding war.”

While walking through the house, my rational husband paid close attention to the sills and foundation, asked questions about the tile roof and more than once questioned the price–which seemed too low.

I admired the views, inspected the glued jigsaw puzzle “artwork” on the wall, and noticed the daughter’s name plate on her bedroom door–she had the same name as our cat: Kali.

I saw the girl scout cookies in the garage and asked what the mom did.

“She stays home and volunteers at the school,” the agent said.

*Rational: We tied the top bid.

*Emotional: I mentioned being a stay-at-home mom, pointed out my experience with the boy scouts and willingness to help sell girl scout cookies. I described our children and my volunteer experiences at school, our penchant for doing jigsaw puzzles and mentioned our cat Kali.

I wrote about my hopes for our future life in the new town and did not mention the fantastic view.

We got the house.

Tweetables:

A Writer Buys a House, pratfalls and practicalities. Click to Tweet

Advantage of a writer’s imagination in house hunting. Click to Tweet

When a writer and an engineer go house hunting together. Click to Tweet