I’m about to head out to the coffee shop again to meet the friend who’s been helping me edit my WIP. First, I need to overcome the urge to “cave it,” by which I mean curl up at my little desk with my books and papers and tiny canvases and watch the coming cold front pass outside my window.
Writing in a coffee shop — or any other public space — seems nearly impossible unless one is just writing down observational kind of nuggets that may later turn into a story or poem or… Editing is apparently wholly different. She’s been reading through it and making comments or suggestions or scribbled grammatical fixes. We’ve been working our way through the first 22 chapters or so, so of which will likely be rearranged.
If nothing else, coffee is one of my favorite things.