Sunday, September 25, 2005

Sunday: The day of the week when I do most of my writing. I have a ritual. I like to get up early in the morning, shave, shower, get dressed, and head out to Starbucks. On the way I typically stop at McDonald’s and buy a bacon, egg, and cheese bagel and either a cup of water or a bottled water. I eat in the parking lot and then continue on my way to Starbucks.

I like to get to Starbucks way before the University of Virginia students start trickling in because there are two optimal places to sit away from the stereo speakers and most of the conversation. After I get my grande, nonfat, Caramel Macchiato with whip, no foam (how’s that for being pretentious?), I usually write in my journal while the caffeine enters my bloodstream. Depending on my energy level, mood, and the complexity of what I’m working on, I then switch to poetry and write from two to four hours. Today I had one of the four-hour experiences. I am grateful for that because today I was able to finish the third section of a three-section poem. I now have a first draft to start revising.

I’ve remarked before to my wife and my poetry coach how appropriate it is that my writing day is Sunday. Writing for me, when it is going well, does have a profound spiritual aspect to it.


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