Wednesday, October 28, 2015

No Cuppa Joe, No Words on the Page

This post is taken from an earlier one I wrote. Tom's brain is on vacation today, as he's working on his novel, completing the final edits.

Coffee and writers. Writers and coffee.

I can’t imagine writing without the stuff. I would not necessarily consider myself a morning person, but I’ve learned that morning is when my brain is firing (or misfiring, depending on the morning) at its best. And I can think of no better way to get those cerebral juices flowing without a cup of the magic black stuff sitting beside me.

Now, what I wonder about is, what is the coffee of choice for writers? I tend to favor and savor the strong stuff myself. Sumatran. If I could afford it, Jamaican Blue Mountain. Hawaiian Kona is good, too. Espresso, too intense. I prefer a nice, slow burn in the morning, sort of the morning equivalent of a beer buzz. The coffee glow should start off slow, build to a nice, steady roll, to the point where it augments my writing jazz.

And just in case you’re wondering what other writers have to say about coffee, here are a few randomly chosen author’s quotes about the dark elixir.

This is one of my favorites from Dave Barry — “It is inhumane, in my opinion, to force people who have a genuine medical need for coffee to wait in line behind people who apparently view it as some kind of recreational activity.”

I definitely agree with this one. Coffee is a serious matter. Absolutely medically necessary. As one caffeinated friend of mine said years ago, “I need it to jump-start my heart.” Yep.

From J. D. Salinger — “That’s something that annoys the hell out of me- I mean if somebody says the coffee’s all ready and it isn’t.”

Oh yeah. That’s right up there with, if you tell me I won the lottery and I really didn’t.

Of course, there’s always a sayer of nay or two. Take this example: “Coffee, though a useful medicine, if drunk constantly will at length induce a decay of health , and hectic fever.” — Jesse Torrey, The Moral Instructor (1879).

Okay, looks like Jesse never got a really cup of decent diner coffee. I’ll take the decay of health and hectic fever myself, though.

Reminds me of a quote that I thought was by the old jazz pianist, Eubie Blake (or I made it up, not sure which). “Coffee must be slow poison. I’ve been drinking it for more than 90 years and it hasn’t killed me yet.”

Keep writing, friends.

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