Wound up in a coffee shop today. As of late they’ve been foreign soil. The coffee shop vibe is one that is heavily romanticized by writers, myself included. Depending on where I land, a shop can be a soulful rest stop filled with interesting people or a noisy den crammed with high-strung individuals curious as to why I’m breathing their air. I don’t know when or how the ‘write in a coffee shop’ movement begin, but I signed up back at the turn of the century, spending ten years (and untold thousands) developing a fierce addiction to caffeine. Once parenthood set upon me I was forced to find alternatives to the coffee shop writing spot. I tried doing the home office thing (a journey often repeated and chronicled in this blog), but with people watching being such an important part of what I do, it was not successful.
A fundamental part of my writing process is having sufficient noise and distraction. The surroundings should force me to dive deeper into my process. Coffee shops can be perfect for that, but they can also be pits of commerciality—especially when it comes to Starbucks. In my dreams I’m working out of a cool local shop where the baristas know everyone by name and the conversations are genuine.
I didn’t find that shop, but I did find a good cup of iced coffee.