It’s a gray pre-spring day here in Portland. I’m on momentary hiatus from a pile of projects. Namely: twiddling my thumbs while the final draft of a manuscript I’ve been editing prints out. I’ve been working with the author on this project for two months now and it’s hard to believe that we’re almost done. This afternoon, I’m feeling stir-crazed, so I’m going to walk to a nearby coffeeshop with my mighty, mighty manuscript printout and give it a final pass. Or perhaps drive, on account of the rain. Or perhaps stop bringing shame to Native Oregonians everywhere by walking anyway. We shall see.
A lot gets said about writer’s spaces. I’ve always been something of a nomad when it comes to where I work. I have a sweet little office full of books and plants and posters that I spent a lot of time working in, but after a couple of days secreted away in here I invariably start to feel like a mole in a hole at the end of an interminably long winter. Then I tunnel out. I have yet to find a coffeeshop in Portland that just totally does it for me as far as third place workspace goes, so I continue to roam. There’s just some little thing wrong with every single one of them: a little dirty, too cold, too hot, not enough tables, not enough plugs, too minimal, too cluttered, no cheap snack food, snotty baristas, etc. I am a cheapskate of discernment, it seems!
I’ve been submitting writing all over the place these days. Problem is, most magazines/websites don’t want anything that has been previously published *even if* it was only on one’s personal blog. This is a bummer, as I have some really cool pieces that I’m opting not to post on here. I feel like I’m cheating on my blog, and, maybe, my readers. But it’s time to find some larger platforms. I’ve got that sense, at least.
While I wait for this beast to finish print, two photos. First, my Little Office. Second, this really amazing croissant my roommate bought me recently from Petite Provence on Alberta Street in Northeast Portland. It is hands down the best French food around!
Hey, Portland writers! Where do you like to work when your toes get to itching?