I’m not that crazy about coffee anymore. There I said it. It’s a weight off my shoulders. A burden gone. And to take it even further – I not much of a drinker of alcoholic beverages, either.
So…what’s the big deal? I’m a writer! For the normal person, these proclamations may not be a big deal. But I’m not normal. I’m a writer.
Some of my writer friends write in coffee shops. Some have very productive writing sessions while sipping on a cup of joe. I’ve been debating on packing up the laptop and heading to a local cafe myself to try and up the daily word count, but I’m scared my secret would surface. The image of a writer typing away at the keyboard while a cup of…grape Kool-Aid sits nearby doesn’t conjure up the same mythical vision.
Don’t get me wrong. There was a time not too long ago when I was one of those writers whose words were tethered to a cup of coffee. But then something happened – I don’t know, like hot flashes or something – and I was no longer in want of any type of drink with steam rising from it.
In my mind, the marriage of writers and coffee was so ingrained, when my taste buds changed, I wondered if I was cut out for this writing life. All my writer friends thrived on the stuff as if it were an intravenous happy drug. While I was chugging the (sugar free) grape Kool-Aid.
Not really all that fond of sweet ice tea now, either. Holy Crap! Now I’m not even a true southern! But that’s another post for another day.
Back to the drink of choice…in all the “how to write” books I’ve read, they all say study the masters. You know, guys like Papa Hemingway and that Faulkner guy (who leaves me banging my head against hard objects!) So I did…and discovered Papa, Faulkner, Dylan Thomas, Hunter S. Thompson…they all liked to, um…partake in Miss Mamie’s throat soother. A lot. But their writing was brilliant (I reserve judgement on Faulkner, but he IS considered one of the greats.) For some reason I don’t think the how-to books meant to emulate the greats in every way so I’ll leave the hard drinking to frat boys.
So am I still a writer even if I no longer like coffee? Am I still a writer if I write without having a good buzz? Or go on a binge after the writing is done (that Faulkner guy again)?
Stand up to the stereotype my fellow writer friends! Ditch the coffee and the spirits. Want you join me for a cup of Kool-Aid?