I was watching an interview on YouTube with novelist Paul Auster today. He said he writes longhand when in the early phase of a book then completes the manuscript using a typewriter. I thought this was quite rare and interesting.

I personally compose poetry and prose in my journal using longhand, then I take it to the computer to finish it up.

I’ve always wondered what it would be like to compose on a typewriter. I have a feeling my writing would be considerably less filtered.

The title of this

I thought I would just sit here and have a coffee
I thought I would eavesdrop on a Las Vegas woman who went on about her Yankees hat
I thought I would try not to spend money
I thought I would stick my nose up at a Starbucks cup
I thought the man next to me would have nothing else better to do
I thought I would fall short of solutions
I thought I would be out of things to say
I thought I would just read about owls
I thought I would photograph the clouds
I thought I would think about David Sedaris
I thought I would read Leo Tolstoy quotes
I thought I would just stare into my empty coffee cup

leftover notes

I noticed a model in a mag who wore a ring, its width spanning to the bend of her forefinger. Not a wedding band, of course, ‘cause the world of fashion modeling is one of availability — of disengagement, full of time to amble, with the occasional need to stare down voyeurs.


She tried to be proper with her salad but she was hungry. She could not interject as her guest spoke for fear her food bits would take flight. She asked open-ended questions here and there and then chomped during the replies.