Notes From the Coffee House

Behind every good book is a good coffeehouse. (In my opinion).

Locating the best environment to support your writing endeavors is a must. Me, I like the coffeehouse, perhaps because I practically lived in any one of several hip coffeehouses as an undergrad and, being a modern nomad, nowhere else quite says "home" to me. This institution, invented as one scholar suggests in the meeting of virtuosi culture and popular consumer behavior, has all the ingredients of being an office (table, chair, wifi, coffee) without being an office (colleagues, students, bad coffee, requests of more work, etc.). Not that I dislike my office, but institutional settings are not good for my writing muses (except for the grant-writing muses, which for some reason live in my real office).

Every coffeehouse has a personality. Take the one I am currently sitting in: there are birds all over the walls, which I am finding somewhat disturbing, but which say "this is a trendy spot where local artists seek self-display." A pastor chats with a congregant about his future ("I am in the south after all"). The radio is tuned to NPR ("progressive") and I have the option of trying four different types of regular coffee ("we are not Starbucks"). I wonder if the personality of the coffee shop somehow makes its way into our writing, some sense of space that shapes our prose voice or rhythm?