Why Starbucks Loves Me

I am a night owl.  This has been true my entire life.  I don't like mornings much, but love staying up late.  And I'm very productive at night.  College was awesome for late night study groups.  Not so much for 7 a.m. physics class.

Now, as a writer, theoretically being a night owl would be a good thing.  I can write all night long after the kids are in bed and the day job is done, right?  Well, yes.  In fact, I'd love to do that.  The words would come more easily, faster and be better.  But those kids and day job also expect me to be up in the morning and functioning.  Or at least able to fake it.

Enter my Starbucks card.  This is a plastic card that started as a gift card (love my sister) but that can be reloaded.  And reloaded.  And reloaded.  Seriously, I'm personally sending some Starbucks CEO's kid to college in the fall.

But here's the thing-- I don't stay up just for fun or because there's absolutely no other time I can write.  I know there are writers like that, but my kids are old enough and in tune enough to know that mom needs her writing time for 1. her sanity and 2. their toys.  Yes, they're old enough to understand that my writing gives us some fun money and that benefits them.  Of course I spend time with them and for them, but I'm fortunate to be able to say, "Ok, everyone, I'm going to my office for two hours.  See you after. If you're hungry you know where the peanut butter is.".  No, the problem isn't that I *can't* find writing time.  It's worse than that-- when I find it, it doesn't work.

I swear that if I have uninterrupted time in the middle of the afternoon or nothing planned Saturday morning or Friday night alone at home while everyone else is out, I can't get a lot done generally.  It sucks.  Seriously.  Either the words come slow, or I write an entire scene and then decide the next day I can't keep any of it.  But sure enough, as soon as it's 11 p.m. and I have an early morning meeting, *then* the words flow.  Then the scene comes together.  Then one of my characters suddenly says or does something that makes the whole plot click and things really come together.  Sure.  Because that's the least convenient time for it to happen. 

Oh, and I've learned the hard way not to stop just because its midnight.  I've learned that assuming those words and that idea will still be there the next day is trouble. They'll be gone. Never to be recovered. Never again will those word, that magical rush of dialogue, that same perfect solution to the plot hole come back to bless me.  So, I stay up and write it. 

And I never leave the house without that magical plastic Starbucks card in hand.