Filling the Well

by Janis Susan May/Janis Patterson

Writers are givers, and that's a problem. First of all we have the normal obligations everyone does - family, home, job, civic and religious responsibilities - all of which take time and energy. Then on top of all this we also write, which is a very draining occupation. Using nothing more than imagination (and for a lot of us, caffeine) we have to create worlds and populations and both actions and reactions in a coherent format - to say nothing of editing, spelling, selling, publicity.... etc. - and they all take from us. (I've always wondered how we can give so much of ourselves and still not lose an ounce - we should all be at least size zero...)

Let's face it, we can only give so much without getting to the point where we have nothing left. We need to re-fill our well. Nothing can be created in the vacuum of fatigue and stress. The question is how to do it, because it has to be done. Time is a problem for all of us, but this is important, both for us as writers and as individuals.

We have to find our 'safe and happy place' even if it exists only in our heads, a place where we can turn off our brains for a short time and allow the well to refill. I am arthritic, which is not much fun and most people would not consider fortunate, but through this I found my happy place. Exercise helps arthritis, but as I am large it was both painful and nearly impossible, so my rheumatologist prescribed a hot tub. As we have a large back yard it was an excellent solution, one which pleases both me and The Husband.

And it became my happy place where I turn off my brain and allow my thoughts free rein. While most writing work is done in the head, I don't allow it when I'm in the tub. I go out just about every morning when the weather is clement (and sometimes when it's not!) and just exist. Oh, I do my exercises - which I hate - but in a way they're kind of Zen. I don't have to think, I don't have to do anything but just be. And move my legs. It's almost as refreshing as a holiday. Maybe more. I sit and watch the trees, whether in bud, full leaf, or bare branch. There are birds and cheeky squirrels (though I could do without them!) and, in season, hummingbirds attracted by my myriad feeders.

Now I'm not so silly as to believe that a hot tub is right, or accessible, or possible, or even desirable to everyone. Another person's happy place might be a park bench, or a coffee shop, or an exercise session, or a short meditation, or a shopping mall, or maybe just a quiet quarter hour with a cup of coffee and a doughnut. Happy places are as individual as fingerprints, and are always limited by both availability and price, just like everything else in the world. But you have to have one. What I am calling a happy place is a sanity saver, and Heaven knows writers need all the sanity we can get!

Find your happy place and let your well refill. You and your writing will prosper from it.

Coffee Coffee Everywhere and Not a Drop...

The emergence of coffee as America’s favorite beverage is purported to have been instigated by the unfair taxes imposed by the English government on American colonists in the late 18^th Century. The Boston Tea Party is one of many iconic events that set the stage for revolution and brought an end to the dominance of Indian black tea as ritual morning, midday and evening beverage of recent arrivals to the North American continent.

So how did this replacement activity actually happen? How did it occur that now, over 1400 million cups of coffee are drunk around the world each day?

In 1793, coffee was still mainly consumed for medicinal purposes and was too expensive for everyday use.

“New York's first coffee roaster opened on Pearl Street, selling wholesale beans to taverns and hotels, which led to an abundance of coffee businesses along the East River ports. Since coffee importers lacked appropriate communication tools and were at the mercy of the bean-toting ships' arrivals, most of this early consumer-grade green coffee (which would eventually be roasted) was months old, gaining unattractive qualities from the musty and damp wooden ships….

“[T]he Coffee Exchange of New York began regulating traffic in 1882, creating coffee standards and influencing the quality available to consumers. Through the progression of wooden to steam-powered ships, to paper packaging, advancements in roasting technology and selling coffee based on its taste instead of by sight, coffee morphed into a beverage which could be accessible to those outside the wealthy class and still taste good.”

“Coffee Chronicles: Coffee’s History in America, A Short Primer,” Allison Hemler

By the 1900s, coffee was a preferred drink for the wealthy urban dwellers, because it was still too expensive for the majority of Americans. The development of the Coffee Exchange and improvements in shipping, advancements in roasting technology and a preference for taste also boosted the availability to a wider public.

World War II slowed that process and cheaper Robusta beans made in roads, but the advertising campaigns for “coffee breaks” in the 1950s created the atmosphere that led to the appearance of “coffee shops” and “coffee houses” that spread the word into the counter-cultures of the Beatnik and Hippie eras. These in turn led to the comfortable atmosphere of overstuffed sofas and the perception of coffee as the drink most convivial to friendly discussion.

Another instrument for the promotion of coffee to the national drink was the appearance of the beverage on the increasingly influential medium of television. In my family, coffee was the only hot drink and, more often than not for adults, served during meals. Wine and beer were only served at celebration meals.

During the 1970s, the widely popular crime series, Twin Peaks, raised coffee to the level of a connoisseur’s drink with the line “Now, that’s a cup of coffee.” By this time, Americans were well-versed in the appreciation of this all-occasions drink, therefore my first visit to the British Isles was an eye-opener. In habitants of the country of the Magna Carta had no idea what coffee should taste like. For the remainder of the weeks I spent there, I drank tea, even when, according to my fellow B&Bers, it was “too weak to come out of the pot.”

Coffee reached celebrity status in the 1980s, when the series, Friends hit the airways and made a huge difference to coffee consumption when the series was picked up by the independent telly networks in English-speaking countries around the world. The system of franchising and chain stores also extended the spread of “coffeemania” when enterprises such as Peet’s, Tully’s, La Boulangerie, among others moved into neighborhoods.

As citizens of an open society, Americans have embraced coffee and coffee rituals from around the world. We have also opened our taste buds to the joys of exotic teas but it is coffee that holds our hearts in thrall, as an emblem of our long-held and hard-won independence.

Zen and the Art of Doodling

It’s First Fridays, and thus, time to get creative… with zen doodling. It’s the latest rage! Okay, it’s not such a rage. More of a low murmur. And Okay, it’s not so new. In fact, it’s as old as the hills. But I’m “down with the kids”, and this is what they’re murmuring about this week: Zen Doodles.

What, you ask, is a zen doodle? (Pretend you asked.) Basically, it’s a doodle. It’s one big, complex, massive doodle. What’s the point of a zen doodle?

1. Meditative
2. Stress release
3. A plotting tool
4. Cool art to fill the pages of your journal.

It’s meditative, because it helps you to exercise moving from constraint to freedom. The only constraint is the page on which you’re doodling. Then you slowly add constraints – an outline of my hand was my constraint in this doodle (below). Then you free up again by doodling in one portion of it, then add constraint – a curve, a flower petal, a line – big and bold within the constraint of the hand, then within that constraint, you add another layer of free-form detail. (This, by the way, is a LOT like plotting a novel.)

It’s a stress release, because it requires very little attention. I did the hand while having coffee with the LWDC (Ladies Who Drink Coffee). As we chatted, I doodled.

It’s a plotting tool. I suffer (suffer?) from Attention Deficit Disorder or A.D.D. – an ugly, pejorative term that doesn’t really describe what it is to have ADD. I prefer to think of it as Attention Diversity Dilemma. Sure, one of its less pleasant side bars is the inability to focus – on stuff that other people want you to focus! I’m perfectly chill with focusing on what I want to focus. Sometimes I need to employ strategies… like zen-doodling. I write. My mind wanders. I doodle. I strum my banjo, (always close at hand), and then I turn back to writing. I have a goal of 1,000 words per day. That’s just four pages, approximately. I can do that – in and around Attention Diversity Dilemma. Would I be more productive without A.D.D.? Maybe. Who knows, but I’m certain I would be far less creative.

Here’s a little video book trailer I put together for one of my off-road books, (another hazard of A.D.D. – going off-track genre-wise). The entire book trailer is just one big giant zen-doodle! While writing the book, I created pictures – still shots of scenes that were playing in my head – then I used my words – a free-form expression of what I hoped to incorporate into the characters, the plot, etc., into the creation of the pictures. The zen doodle is the plot! I hope you enjoy the trailer, even if the book might not be exactly your cuppa tea. (Warning: It's young adult, paranormal, not cozy.) The book I'm writing now is a sweet romantic comedy loosely based on the play, Cyrano DeBergerac, by Edmund Rostand. I'll try to post some of the zen doodles on my blog at www.sofiecouch.blogspot.com as I journal the plot... soon. 

So, the next time you sit down to coffee with friends, pick up a pen, grab a piece of paper… and zen doodle. You never know where it may lead you.

Coffee and Tea: Servants of the Muse?

by Janis Susan May/Janis Patterson

I don’t get it when someone asks “Do you like tea or coffee?”

I like them both, and drink both, but it’s amazing how different they are, both in perception or actuality.

For example, I can’t face the idea of a morning without coffee, and that means coffee made my special way. Liking my coffee fresh and hot, I have a single serving coffeemaker that actually uses regular ground coffee (French Roast brewed to industrial strength is my favorite) instead of those abominable little cups. If the sad day ever dawns that there is no such thing as a single serving coffee maker that uses ground coffee, I will either go back to my trusty French press or abjure coffee forever. Those horrid little cups are too inflexible, too limited and far too expensive!

Usually I prime the coffeemaker with water and grounds the night before, so that in my semi-conscious morning state all I have to do is push the button and allow the elixir of life to pour into the cup. Once that’s done, I add one packet of sweetener and a goodly dollop of flavored creamer. At the moment I’m in love with Vanilla Caramel, though French Vanilla and Caramel Macchiato are not far behind. Once my 14 oz morning mug is about half empty I am reasonably awake and functioning. By the time I reach the bottom of that first mug , the animals have been fed, The Husband’s lunch made and him sent off to work. Once he leaves, I can go to my writing.

By the way, my coffee mug is an ancient one purchased years ago from my local RWA chapter. It is bright blue, and written on it in large white letters is “Warning – what you do may end up in my next novel.” Sometimes I think it as much as the coffee keep me focused on the project at hand.

Usually by lunch I have had two or three mugsfull and that is a sufficiency unless it is brutally cold outside, in which case I will drink it all day. (My office is the coldest room in the house in the winter, more’s the pity.) Then I will switch to water, or sometimes a Diet Dr. Pepper or iced tea. Both Dr. Pepper and iced tea are pretty standard afternoon/evening drinks in Texas!

I don’t drink as much hot tea as I do coffee, but I like it as much or more even though to me it doesn’t have the same caffeine-jet-propelled pick-me-up as coffee.

I would never drink tea out of my big morning coffee mug. That would seem vaguely uncivilized. My late paternal grandmother bequeathed me her cup and saucer collection when I was just a baby. She began it not long before her wedding in 1899 and by the time I received it the collection totalled nearly 50 cups. My mother used it for years, during my childhood and well into my grown-up-with-my-own-apartment life. She even added to it – and she should have, because being a total klutz she broke almost a third of the original collection.

When, long after my majority, I managed to coax it out of her hands, I melded it with the collection I had started for myself. Trust me, I have lots of teacups and saucers. They’re all pretty, but only a few of the old ones are really valuable. Still, I get one or another of the collection out and use them occasionally just for the pleasure of it.

My tastes in tea are much wider than in coffee. A bag or two of English Breakfast or Irish Breakfast or Jasmine or Assam or Golden Darjeeling (my favorite!) in the pot, a pretty cup, a little sweetener and just a bare splash of milk is a recipe for sheer delight. There are no flavored creamers here – nothing should mask the distinctive flavor of the tea.

If I am feeling particularly decadent around break time, I make up a pretty tray complete with shortbread fingers and jamprint cookies and if it’s warm take the whole thing out to the pergola or if it’s winter, into my early Victorian parlor. I tune the radio to the classical station and for a half hour or so simply enjoy life. It’s invigorating and restorative. Somehow a cup of tea taken while working at the computer simply does not taste the same!

These are silly little rituals, true, but they are part of my daily writing life – and is not writing itself a ritual? It is with me, something I do every day, rain or shine, well or ill. Silly, perhaps, but the coffee and the tea and the work all balance each other and – Heaven knows! – we writers need all the help we can get!