The 3 AM Epiphany, Exercise One

I'll go into details of the exercise at the end, for my own purposes.

The coffeehouse near our place has everything a writer like myself could ever need to create beyond our own doors. It has coffee, foremost, and, even for it being a chain, it lists a terrific set of flavors and wonders. Aztec Mocha, a wonderul concoction of cinnimon, chili powder and chocolate, takes the bitter hum of java to new, beautiful levels. I treat myself daily here, wondering over sometime after CBS Sunday morning signs off and the responsibilities of the day begins.

Daily lesson plans take priority, so those are brought up long before any creative-ness hits the brain cells. That act itself creates a sense of completeness that makes the creative process have a much sweeter reward--the reward that all the writing I'm doing is not limited by the confines of my own life encroaching. How many authors have stopped what they are penning because they realized the catbox needed emptying, the dishwasher needed to be cleaned out or the stack of papers in the suitcase needed to be graded? That was the creation of my own demise.

The coffeehouse and the ensuing schedule there helping eliminate that, even if briefly so.

So my briefcase filled, the drive is almost instantenous, the coffee arrives in my hand and my paperwork finds a table home, even if only for a few hours in the morning. The schedule rounds itself out with journalling (usually a list of ailments in my life of things that are bothering me, so they, too, don't hold my creativity back) and then the continued contrivance of whatever tales suits my fancy.

My writing has been flurishing lately, and one cannot fathom as to why. The pens has always been in my pockets, the imagination has always been full. But it is now, here before my 38th birthday, that my brain finds it's niche.

Fate? Hope pushes itself to the front of my head on that one.

Okay, so my best friend gave me this terrific book of great writing exercises. I figure it to be a terrific way to keep this blog going. I'll let him know, I'm sure he'll be on my only reader! Still, the exercise was that I had to write in the first person. The catch? I can only use I twice...no more. I needed to create about 600 words, but this blog doesn't offer that as an option. So I'll have to count it at home, when I return from here.

It will remain unedited. I hope you don't mind.

Peace!