I was inspired this week by an article that mentionned a writer who found inpsiration in a Tire Shop.  Read it Here.

I came across the article while “networking” (procrastinating) on Twitter.  The story sounded odd, which I like, so I clicked through.

Back up about an hour in my day to where I was feeling anxious and useless.  It’s 11am.  The only thing I’ve accomplished is getting up and going back to bed.  My plan for the day started with an 8am run, followed by writing from 9-1.  The afternoon featured time to tackle an ever-growing list of tasks.

So, it’s 11.  Jet-lagged and semi-sleep-deprived and all around miserable, I finish berating myself for laziness and pull out my laptop to start editing.  Oy vey.  Who wrote this crappola?  It wasn’t me.  I swear.  I fix three lines, read back over it, realize it’s worse than before and I wish I could write as well as the person who wrote the first draft.  FML.

I decide I can’t concentrate because of my to do list (which has exploded since being out of the country for 5 days, and attending a Success Seminar in which I committed to aiming for even more).  I throw in a load of laundry.  Clean half the kitchen.  Twitter.  Recognize my brain is just scrambled.

But, I. Need. To. Write.  Books don’t write themselves, I’ve checked.  Sigh.

Begin negative thought spiral.

I read the article about a great woman writer who realizes she struggles to put words on the page at home, but achieves huge word counts when working at a tire store.  I realize I know that feeling.

For some reason, I keep trying to write at home.  Frankly, I’m cheap.  I’m introverted.  If I don’t have to drive, I won’t.  If I can stay in my jamjams all day, I’m a happy camper.  But it doesn’t work for me, I never have huge word days at home.

My favourite place to write is Starbucks, Clearview Market Starbucks to be specific.  Corner table by the window if I can get it, or a seat at the long table facing the baristas works well too.  Maybe it’s the Chai tea or the smell of coffee beans.  I suspect it’s the constant white noise, although I’ve tried white noise / coffee shop noise at home and it’s not the same.

I really think it’s about the energy in Starbucks, brought in by the busy baristas and the customers who dash in and out on their way to work.  Or the group of men who meet every saturday morning and talk about old times.  Or the college students who filter in and sit beside me, while we exchange knowing glances that say, “yeah, we know, this is where the work happens,” and then bow our heads back to our laptops.  Somehow the busy-ness helps me focus.

I love writing at Starbucks, so thank you Tire-Lady, for reminding me we all need some external boost from time to time, and that’s okay.

Now, back to work….