I never liked the taste of coffee. A stolen sip from Mom’s coffee mug confirmed it for me. Yet tastes change: they evolve.
Early in my professional writing career, I was reintroduced to coffee.
After college, I took a reporting position at a small town newspaper. I spent my evenings covering long meetings; exciting stuff like school boards and sewer authorities. And every morning, I hauled my tired self into the newsroom at 7:00 a.m. to type up my story, some police reports, and a couple obits before my 9:00 a.m. press deadline.
Becky, my mentor, started every morning with a piping hot cup of coffee. It transformed her from a surly bear into a one that was just mildly grumpy. She thought it was pretty weird that I didn’t drink coffee. Peer pressure, as it usually does, got the best of me, and I took up the habit. Thanks to her, I will forever associate coffee with writing.
Now more than 15 years and two jobs later, coffee has become an integral part of my creative process. The smell of the first cup, the feel of the hot mug in one hand as I type hunt-and-peck style with the other; they bring my muse. The words don’t flow anymore without coffee.
Many times I have tried to free myself from the grips of my coffee mug. For a short time I succeed. But eventually my muse calls again, and I answer her.
This post was inspired by Tazim Damji’s “The Favourite Things Project.” This week’s theme was “Things to Drink.”
