I was sitting at Cafe Ladro revising one of the chapters for my book proposal. It was the essay that would be Chapter 1, the one about HOME. Long story, it’s a chapter about finding places to fit in and safely take a shit without feeling guilty for the smell.
I’m sitting at the little cafe bar, and every now and then I turned a glazed-over eye to the window for some peoplewatching (witnessed the desperation of Seattle, where a woman will wear flip-flops if it’s 50 degrees out). I can see the Sunday paper framed by the newspaper box on the sidewalk. The lead headline says “DREAM HOMES: A WINDOW INTO HOW WE’VE CHANGED.”
Syncronicity pleases the poet in me.
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3 Responses to “Dream Homes”
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Hey there. I'm Ariel Meadow Stallings, a native Seattleite who's written my way up and down the Left Coast. Electrolicious is where I post daily randomata, but I also write for a living. My first book, Offbeat Bride, was published last year.
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ivy
February 29th, 2004 at 5:19 pm
It’s not desperation, it’s optimism!
stephanie
February 29th, 2004 at 8:17 pm
Cafes seem to be a huge source of inspiration for me. I’ll suffer the worst writer’s block at home, at the beach, in class… but put me in a cozy cafe with my lovely little ibook and I’m a torrent of creativity.
Matt
March 1st, 2004 at 2:08 pm
I’m the opposite - I couldn’t write in cafes. Too many people, and I don’t like people! I’ve got to be completely and utterly alone, with not even the threat of interruption, or I can’t write a goddamn thing. Thus I haven’t written a goddamn thing.