Nothing. I don’t have a desk. I sit cross-legged in a wingback chair and balance my laptop on my lap as god intended. It’s not even a proper office. I have a small library, that’s sort of like an office but without a desk. The room has four big armchairs (the chair by the window belongs to my poodle), a ton of paintings, and an upholstered bench strewn with papers. The bench is a bit like a desk, now that I think about it. And I do have a quill pen. Either way, it’s a great set-up. My chair is close to a wall of bookshelves, and all my folklore reference books are within reach. And like any good writer, I have a gargoyle. He lives in an antique teacup and keeps an eye on things, but that’s a story for another day.