More Notes for the Coffee Shop Novel

I feel out of place, unnerved. I’m drinking coffee in a beautifully appointed coffee shop populated with beautiful people, including the baristas. I haven’t shaved in months, where threadbare clothes, ripped sneakers, and…when was that last shower?

Everything is perfect here: marble floors, black beams, industrial lighting and exposed silver HVAC, wooden tables. A glass garage door opens to a patio with a fire pit!

Can you write a novel in a beautiful coffee shop surrounded by beautiful people? Where is the friction? I don’t think I can. I contrast my writing spirit here with Oregon Tavern Age country and the decidedly non-beautiful people who inhabit that landscape.

Wait, I think I’m getting it all wrong. Bob Seger wrote a beautifully poignant song, almost an anthem, called “Beautiful Losers.” That’s where the novel is for me. That’s where my journalism is.

A young man walks in wearing a blue suit and blue tie. He doesn’t wear this ensemble well. It hangs all wrong. I can use that.

A barista looks at me and smiles as I write on my Alphasmart. I think she thinks I’m a transient. Perhaps I am.

A Down’s Syndrome couple walk in. They appear to be the happiest couple in the world. They are not part of Bob Seger’s world. They need some songs of their own. I used to write songs, but that was a different me. I’m writing Walt Whitman-kind-of-songs now. I need a collaborator to put them to music and sing them for America.

Time to go. I leave a tip for the barista. That might change her mind about me.