I heard Lorrie Moore downtown at the L. A. Central Library. Among other things she talked about when she wrote. Like me, she was a morning writer and, unlike me, a big coffee drinker. (I drink only a little.) She was very funny about it, advising us to not waste coffee on friends since one builds up a tolerance.

It made me wonder when the rest of us write. I’ve always been a morning person, while I’m just about comatose in the p.m. And coffee does help in the a.m. My mind runs without much regard for the rest of me, anyhow, and half a cup of coffee with some soy milk is like rocket fuel.
This morning, though, I’m reading galleys for a book of poems called INDIGO, and I can’t be so jet propelled. I need to read the lines out loud at this point and listen carefully. I’m past the spelling or grammar gaffes at this point. Coffee will just make me go too fast.
If I finish by noon, though, I’ll have a little Cafe du Monde (a New Orleans blend so it has some chicory) and see if I want to write poetry. After that I’ll go out, buy tomorrow’s “Daily Racing Form” and take a nap!