Where For Art Thou, Inspiration?

I have now joined the ranks of those who loiter in Starbucks with a laptop, attempting to tap into an inner Hemingway and come up with something worthy of a publisher. So far though, I have responded to 4 emails, checked the weather forecast and looked at 9 different pictures of my cats. Literary inspiration may have to wait until my next visit.

On many occasions I have logged time at Starbucks commiserating with girlfriends about the state of a variety of circumstances. I have been intrigued with the tables occupied by a sole coffee drinker and a laptop. Many patrons are clearly students. I actually spent 2 hours sitting next to someone who was reviewing STD infection rates in Manitoba with many explicit graphs and details flashing across his computer screen. Talk about not being able to look away. However, being an accidental observer of such information made me feel much better about the situation I had shown up to bemoan. Suddenly a husband with a tendency toward insensitivity is a bargain compared to the infectious alternatives that are apparently so prevalent. Who knew?

I can't help but think of JK Rowling - who conceived the idea of Harry Potter over a cup of tea, and proceeded to spill out her inspiration long hand with a pad of paper. I cannot remember the last time I wrote out anything that couldn't fit on a post-it note. However, JK didn't have to deal with the temptation of a mean game of "minesweeper" looming just a click or two away.

I'm not sure where exactly inspiration comes from. I suppose that's part of the mystery and part of the journey.

Stephen King says that if you are a writer you feel compelled to write. It's as if you don't have a choice. The only things I'm ever consistently compelled to do involve snacking and napping - often in close succession.

It's so scary to be taking a shot at the one thing I always thought I was meant to do, and having to accept that maybe I'm wrong. I suppose that's what keeps so many of us from ever taking a shot in the first place. Than again, what if I'm right?

It's far too early to tell, and I am giddy with the opportunity to try. However, my quest for inspiration will have to wait until tomorrow. According to the forecast flurries are coming, and I kind of miss my cats.