I go to coffee shops to write, because I am too poor to rent an office space.
Because when I really don't want to do anything at home, I can just go curl up in my bed and not do anything. It would be weird if I curled up and slept at a coffee shop.
Because it gives me a clear time I have to write. I have to "show up" ... just like Kevin Barry said.
Because I am too poor to have a shed like Kevin Barry has.
I also don't live in Manchester, England, like Kevin Barry does, and a shed with any sort of view in Omaha would be disappointing.
Because coffee shops have cookies, and I do not have cookies at home or in my car or in a shed.
I go to coffee shops because I don't drink coffee, but they'll still give me a free glass of ice so I can chew on it while I write without having to refill an ice tray.
I go because sometimes other people will come and join me, and then I get to see friends instead of just seeing the inside of my dark apartment.
Because only a few years ago, I didn't have a car, and it reminds me that I can in fact go to coffee shops during the day.
Because they have plug-ins and comfortable seats and if you get tired of one writing space, you can go somewhere else without rearranging your whole desk at home.
Because they have not yet come up with a writer's collective in Omaha where I can go sit on a fancy bean bag or a real desk, talk with other writers, drink pop instead of chewing ice, and share my ideas with the people around me. I know these places exist. I would apply for them if they existed anywhere near me. But alas.
So I went to a coffee shop today. I hate coffee shops.
What is this?
Dawson is a writer. This is her blog. In it, you shall read about reading. And writing. And cheeseburgers. Sometimes there are tangents. Huzzah.