Plum-Raspberry Crisp with Browned Butter and Hazelnut Topping
Where are people when they write their blog posts? Or, rather, where are people when they just write? I find myself asking this question whenever I read something—blog post, short story, whatever. I’m fascinated by the sights (window? willow tree? big-screen TV?) and the sounds (night crickets? humming refrigerator? upstairs neighbors’ paces? meowing kitty?) that surround human and computer screen and that either inspire thoughts or compete for attention.
And when? When do people write? Certainly time of day must control the above factors. What programs do they use? Do they type out their thoughts in Word, or in notepad to escape formatting, and then paste the spilled words into a post. Or, do they simply craft sentences right into the text field of their blogging platform? And do these things ever change, or are they constants? Is it socially acceptable to, in the comments field, ask: “Where were you when you wrote this post, and what surrounded you? I’m just curious.”?
Me, I prefer to write at the kitchen table, which is surrounded by three windows, and the room is filled with light until sundown. I start in word. I need a very blank space, because my mind is usually busy. The wordpress dashboard is too busy. I prefer to be accompanied by breakfast or lunch, because I like to break up the flow with stabs of fork and slow chewing. In that time, I can recollect my thoughts, and what better way to write about food than with food? The eating reminds me of the textures and flavors of the dish. It doesn’t have to be that particular dish (though that helps!) and it also doesn’t have to be glamorous. Right now, I’m eating a clean-out-the-fridge-of-the-almost-on-its-way-out-produce salad. There are multiseed crackers on the side and some prunes. But when the apartment is bustling, I take the laptop to my bedroom, sans food. Writing is less fun that way—I should see if the tone of posts written in various locations is different. I often make my final edits while sitting in my bed with all of the lights off. It’s the purest form of silence and tranquility I can find.
Continue reading