My Book is FINISHED!!
Of course, finishing a book is a relative term. Now I will send it off to iUniverse, whose editors will pull its lively little guts out and examine them until they turn into fertilizer; prod, poke and reshape until Jane is John and John is Jane....but what the hell. Editors have to eat, too.
I finished. (IfinishedIfinishedIfinished!!!!)
It happened yesterday at about 3:30 pm mountain time, in Starbucks. Actually, I wrote most of the book in Starbucks, with occasional breaks at Borders. I wonder if there's a promotional angle there....
Ah, the creative question: where to write?
I love writing in coffee houses. As a matter of fact, if I ever build the house of my dreams in the country, I don't think I'll build an office. I will beg Starbucks to come to town, if there isn't one nearby. I will put ads in the local paper begging someone to start a coffee house so that I can write. Or put tables in the bookshop so that I can write. "Writer needs noise, coffee, elitist surroundings to create. Please help."
I have discovered I like to write in public, and I even like some background noise. (And me, the silence freak; go figure) Lately Starbucks has been blasting pop music, I'll have to speak to them about that. But some nice classical or new age, soft, with voices soft and indistinct (will somebody please move these *&!!@*! tables further apart?). Nice stuff around. Like overpriced copper and glass coffee presses you're sure to break on the first or second use. Fancy coffee with pretty pictures on the bags. Books and decent art work on the walls.
And outlets. You gotta have outlets, man. My computer battery is able to turn on, smile, make a rude noise, and drop dead; that's it. I was in a Satellite looking for outlets, which are arrayed along the bottom of the continuous seating bench, so I was crawling around under the tables. One guy kicked me in the face when I brushed his leg looking for the outlet I was sure was behind it. He said he was sorry, but I don't think he meant it. His outlet was busy anyhow.
I would write at home except for:
- the view out the windows is too beautiful. I just stare
- the animals always want something
- the silence is too lovely. I start meditating
- I have to make my own coffee
- I have to wash my own cup
But, it can be argued, I can always find an outlet!