Kevin Brennan Writes About What It's Like
I keep seeing tweets like the one above from writers, celebrating coffee. They drive me nuts.
It’s like all you have to do is get some caffeine in you and you can whip out that first draft in a few days. And a lot of books feel like they were whipped out in a few days too.
Worse than that, the coffee thing makes writers seem pretty vapid, really. There’s a lot more going on out there to think about than that cup of java cradled in your hands. I want to grab these people by the shoulders and give them a good shake. “Put down that cup and look out your flippin’ window, you dingdong!”
I also find that coffee itself is changing in this country, and I don’t like what I’m seeing. Starbucks now serves a bland brew that tastes like it was wrung out of a moist dish towel, and even my old reliable Peet’s, which used to have the strongest cup in town, has watered down its dark roast. When we get coffee at boutique coffee shops now, it seems like they’re trying to elevate it to the level of oenology. “Notes of leather and tarnished pennies, with a finish hinting at the hope that follows paralyzing despair.”
Gimme a break.
My personal motto about coffee has always been “Black as night, hot as hell, and strong as the devil.”
The only place I can get that now is at home.
Where I write.
With cups and cups of coffee flowing.
(Though I refuse to tweet about it … )