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.
Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
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 became a little distracted while ordering my coffee. That trite statement is an understatement. I didn’t know Sam was speaking to me. Looking inward, listening to other voices, I was experiencing the bloom of another writing concept in my head.
After ordering my coffee and paying, I drifted off with an internal sigh. This concept, too, needed to be kneed aside. I’m on the third book of a trilogy. Need to get it done, and then on to the etcetera of publishing. Once the trilogy is done, it’s back to the third of a novel in a series that’s already published. There are many more novels loaded in my mind in that series to pursue. There are finished drafts that require editing and publishing, and there are marketing needs.
Seems like no matter how much coffee I drink, there’s not enough time to write. Bummer, as I think “Mrs. Elf” could be a fun write.
Ah. Time to write like crazy, at least one more time.
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.
You ever eat a pastry, like a doughnut or a bear claw, in the morning as you’re drinking your coffee (or tea), and think, this is not healthy, but it really tastes good?
Yeah. Once in a while.