One of the coolest parts of being a writer is that you can work anywhere. Home, coffee shop, library, beach. Wherever.
Presuming you actually get work done.
I’ve learned I can’t work from home. I’ve had an inordinate amount of time the last few days to write while at home, but I haven’t written. Too many distractions. Or excuses. Whatever you want to call them.
So, I’m at the coffee shop, writing. I’ve got the essentials: coffee, cake, bathrooms and a ridiculous amount of people to watch. That could be the downfall. I’m busy composing character sketches in my head, wondering if I can fit them into the WIP.
I can see the corporate office is here, monitoring, watching, timing. That’s got to be nerve racking. They’re just staring at the baristas, timing them, looking at manuals, monitoring them. Not saying anything. Just looking cheery and bright. It’s all a ruse. I just know it. Underneath lurks the cold, dark heart of a corporate cost-cutter, looking for ways to improve efficiency, without any regards to the humanity of the situation.
There’s the guy I only glanced at. I could only see his white shoes and white socks. Bright white. Blinding white.
The guy in the corner is creeping me out. This place is longer that it is wider and on the back wall, there’s a little seating area consisting of two comfy looking chairs, and a little table. What’s odd is that just in front of this seating area is a few display racks. They’re open shelves, but chock full of stuff, so you can’t really see behind it and, really, who’s looking behind the display rack?
This guy is essentially hiding back there. Is it on purpose? This place is very crowded today (it usually is in the AM), so maybe he didn’t have a choice, but he’s hunkered down in the chair, typing furiously into a lap top. Or is he? The way his glasses sit on his face, his eyes are somewhat obscured and it’s hard to tell if he’s looking at the screen or around the cafe, taking inventory of all of us. Plotting something.
I’m at the communal table and the corporate people sat down at the other end. I’m plugged into headphones and really trying not to overhear, but, they don’t know that. They can’t tell that Pandora is on and I don’t care what they have to say. I could be listening, gleaning corporate secrets on the best way to brew coffee (I really would like that information) or learning about personnel secrets I can leverage for blackmail.
Man! Too many distractions! At least there are fun and possibly useful for the WIP. But, we’ll see what I get done.
Which leads me to ask: Where do you work? Where are you most productive and least distracted? Am I the only one that creates back stories for everyone I meet?
Edited to add: The irony of this post is that while I got a lot done today, I had to come home to retype this into WordPress because something was messed up and I couldn’t copy and paste!
Partly Writing 