This afternoon I was at the Dirt Cowboy Cafe (which for some reason, I always mentally think of as Dirty Cowboy Cafe) writing with some other Nano-ers. Of course, as expected with these kind of things, the guy who first suggested the write-in as well as time to meet never showed up. Maybe he was scared to meet people he first contacted online. Because, you know, online people can be a little kooky and scary.
On my own, I would have never gone into a cafe to work on writing let alone even getting coffee there because, well, I'm just not that kind of person. I felt really odd sitting at a table in the cafe, pounding on the keyboard of my laptop and occasionally sipping a mocha java. If I was wearing all black, it would have completed my transformation to a tortured artist who spends all her time lurking in coffee places.
Besides, it turns the act of writing into a social thing--to see and be seen--which to me seems like a completely oxymoronic activity. I've always viewed writing as solitary and somewhat narcisstic. Ah, it would have been much cooler if the cafe was completely filled with writers and not yuppies and students who are yuppies-in-training.
At least I got some words down. Definitely not as many as other people--my technique primarily consists of typing slowly because my thoughts are going slowly--but I've gotten the most done in one sitting since the month began.
