Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
A mug of steaming, fresh black coffee in hand, I strode back to the table where my laptop waited. “Okay,” I said, “Let’s write, brother.”
Write brother. That cracked me up. I’m a rainbow, and one broad band is definitely goofy.
Time to write like crazy, one more time.
So I settle in with coffee and thoughts, expecting to think away, type away, imagine away. I imagine I’ll be here a while, so see you later.
Time to write like crazy, at least one more time.
We can add, eat chocolate (and pie), drink wine (and beer), and listen to music, but let’s not be greedy.
I stumbled across a page of quotes about coffee today as I navigated the labyrinth of the web. My favorite is the Sinclair post I set as my featured image. Here are the others, and a link to the page, found at WritersWrite. h/t to Amanda Patterson for coming up with this selection.
The Top 10 Quotes About Coffee
Do you have a favorite coffee quote, writers?
You ever have a morning where it feels like you’ve been herding cats, and the cats just don’t want to be herded?
Yeah. More coffee, please.
I’m curious about the genesis of this one. Makes you speculate, though….
Having secured the windows, and alone in his house, he opened the secret compartment that held his coffee stash. Breathing deeply of the smell released, he gasped with delight. It’d been two days, and he needed a cuppa.
Pounding on the door kicked his heartbeat into a gallop. Closing the compartment, he waved away the smell. Thinking more clearly, he turned on the exhaust fan.
They pounded again. As he said, “Coming, just a minute,” a woman on the other said side, “Caffeine police. Open the door, or we’re kicking it in.”
The day he’d feared had arrived.
I suppose that the best part of finishing writing a novel’s first draft is that my coffee consumption will drop for a few days.
I opened the blinds. Sunlight shot in through the corner of a southeastern window, reflected off the refrigerator, and illuminated the coffee maker in the corner.
It was like I was being led.
He drank coffee from her cup. “Hmmm, coffee water,” he said.
“I tasted your coffee, yesterday,” she said. “It was so strong, I gagged. Who can drink such strong coffee?”
“A coffee lover,” he said.
After finishing one chapter, I bought a fresh cuppa coffee and began the next chapter. I’m excited. I know what to write, although, again, imagination and characters have taken me into unexpected directions.
Mixed in with my thoughts about writing this novel are a host of other matters to attend. I’ve been procrastinating about them, and worrying about them, even as I urge myself, “Just fucking do it.” And then, without warning, my dream about the cookies, and the job interview (to sell cookies) comes into focus. Understanding blooms. I know what it means, and it surprises me, but also makes me happy.
It’s just fascinating how our brains and minds work on so many levels. Been a great day of writing like crazy. Just a little more to do today, and then I’ll call it.
Michael Seidel, writer 