Every writer has rituals for writing. You can look up plenty of examples, some of them weird, like British writer Edith Sitwell’s reported habit of lying in a coffin to put herself in the writing mood. I celebrate weird things, so I love that for her.
My own habits aren’t quite so strange. On my website’s About page, I mention that I ride my e-bike to the coffee shop and think of that journey as my portal to Writing Land. Before I leave, I tear off two small squares of tape and stick them to my wallet. I order my iced coffee in advance, so it’s waiting for me when I arrive. When I snag my coffee from the counter, I cover the holes in the lid with my two squares of tape so the coffee doesn’t spill on the bike ride home.
I take the same route most days, passing the former house of Elvis Presley’s manager, “Colonel” Tom Parker, who lived in my neighborhood back when he was a lowly Tampa dog catcher before he met Elvis.
The whole journey takes about 15 minutes. By the time I return home, the concerns of the day have vanished, and I can devote myself to my writing project, settling into the chair at my desk in front of two computer monitors. The right monitor displays the draft I’m currently working on. The left monitor displays notes, an outline, a web browser for research, or a previous draft I’m retyping.
All very exciting, I know. It amuses me when I see movies about writers because the movies generally show everything in a writer’s life except the writing itself, which isn’t terribly exciting to watch. You’ll notice I just described my own rituals but not my writing, which is mostly thinking and moving my fingers (and sometimes slapping my head or pulling my hair). Writing is not a spectator sport!
As important as the ritual is, it’s just as important to mix it up, at least for me. Sometimes I order from different coffee and tea shops. Sometimes I take a new route to the same coffee shop. Sometimes I take my laptop in a backpack and write there. Even rituals need to be refreshed.
Just recently, a Yemeni coffee shop opened near my house. It’s beautiful inside, smells of Middle Eastern spices, and the coffee is excellent. Best of all, it has a special soundproof room with a waterfall flowing down one of the glass walls. I had a great writing experience that day, especially because my son joined me with his laptop. We had the room to ourselves.
Here’s the nice coffee shop with the waterfall right in front of me. No peeking at what I’m writing–at least not yet.
