“…writing is antisocial. It’s solitary as masturbation. Disturb a writer when he is in the throes of creation and he is likely to turn and bite right to the bone…and not even know that he’s doing it. As writer’s wives and husbands often learn to their horror.
And – attend me carefully, Gwen! – there is no way that writers can be tamed and rendered civilized. Or even cured. In a household with more than one person, of which one is a writer, the only solution known to science is to provide the patient with an isolation room, where he can endure the acute stages in private, and where food can be poked in at him with a stick. Because if you disturb the patient at such times, he may break into tears or become violent. Or he may not hear you at all…and if you shake him, he bites.”
Robert A. Heinlein
The Cat Who Walks Through Walls
Mad Genius Club 
:brain gets hung up on trying to decide if interrupting is exactly right, since it’s like talking, sort of:
I don’t bite. Much. Often. Really.
I do.
*grunts in agreement then goes to hunt mammoth.
I sometimes think I don’t bite nearly enough to be left alone when I write…
Same.
I trained myself to hold an idea while interrupted, when the kids were small. I’m still pretty good at it, but my retired husband is pushing my limits . . . fortunately we’re now into “Dear? The lawn’s looking a bit ragged” and ZOOM! Off he goes, with something to do! And we’re both happy.
I’m stuck in this situation where I need to be left alone to work…but, when I need company when I’m working, I really need company.
Read-in company.
Who I can bounce ideas off of.
It’s solitary in the middle of a crowd. . . .
I resemble that remark.
Writing is nothing to be ashamed of, but it should be done in private, with hands washed after
I stay at home and write. Sometimes I have to go out, to buy /food/doodad/thingmebob so I get it done quick and come back home.
When out taking [relative] to [event/appointment/whatever] I sit in the truck and write. I used to sit in a cafe, but those places have very uncomfortable chairs these days.
When at home, I have trained myself to stop snarling at people when they interrupt my writing fits with demands that I go do this that or the other. Which they seem to do only when I am typing. It doesn’t mean that I’m not irritated to hell by the interruption, it just means that I’m making an effort not to be an a-hole. “Excuse me I’m typing here!” doesn’t cut much ice at Chez Phantom. They just say “you’re ALWAYS typing!” and continue on with the stream of instructions.
Better than living alone with the dog, I suppose. The dog is a bit annoying at times. “Walk me, feed me, play with me!” he says. Bah! 😡
But I’m always disturbed.
My husband tries to do his writing either when I’m at work, or when I’m asleep.That way, I don’t disturb his train of thought simply by living in the same house.
I can tolerate Dan in the same house. I can tolerate the kids. But we had workmen ALL WEEK.