Where Do You Write?

Today was a beautiful day in New York City. I'm not talking about our new, lower standard: no tornado, no flooded subway. I'm talking about the real thing: an August day with low humidity, temps barely in the 90s, lots of sunshine.

How did I spend it? Inside writing, looking longingly through my window at the wide avenue that runs through my part of Manhattan. There's an elementary school directly across the street. It's pretty quiet over there on a Sunday in August. Just below my window is deli that draws a modest crowd of hangers-out throughout the day. On really hot summer days not much happens there, the adults head inside for their ACs, the kids around the corner to pop open the fire hydrant. Today: not so hot so lots of action below my window. But the real fun in my neighborhood is just out of sight from my desk, around the corner, under the awning that runs the length of the supermarket across the street. There, the older Dominican men gather, some on folding chairs, a few on wooden chairs, and one on a battered barca lounger. Through the afternoon, the evening, and into the early morning they play dominoes, swig beer, and listen to the boom box.

Now it's just past 11:00 and the game is going strong. I however am done writing. (Oh, who am I try to fool? I finished hours ago) The point is the place is hoping and, while I often write at a Starbucks in midtown, sometimes I feel like an environment that has a little more grit and bustle to it than the squeaky-cleaned-to-within-an-inch-of-its-life Starbucks. Does it make a difference? Not that I can tell. The choice seems to have more to do with my mood than any real requirement of the work. The one thing that doesn't vary is the amount of time and when I write. There's a schedule and I stick to it even as the location floats. What sort of writing space works for the rest of you?