The World’s First Free Daily Serialized Coffee Break Novel has a Landing Page

Weekly Landing Page

I remember back in my days as a marketing manager and the first time I wasted thousands of dollars on a Google ad campaign by sending people to the company’s home page instead of the specific thing featured in the ad. For instance, advertise a special sale price on a brand of shoes and show the potential customer a home page with the sale they want buried in ads for clothing, furniture and a hundred other things.

Nothing drives a customer away faster than being pissed off at you for wasting their time and the only way to avoid this is to have a landing page…a page devoted to the advertisement that drew the web surfer. He or she is interested in the sale on shoes, not the availability of designer scarves and lawn chairs. The landing page takes them directly to it.

Wish I’d known that before I wasted all that money. But I know it now and, even though The Weekly Man is free, it occurred to me that a landing page just might be useful, especially for anyone picking it up after the story has begun.

The Weekly Man now  has a landing page with links to the cell phone version (not active, considering it’s not September 8 yet), a link where readers can start with the first episode an on to the current one (instead of having to scroll to the end of a blog to read the episode from bottom to top, something that becomes painfully arduous after the first month), links to handy documents like the character guide and a few freebies, including photo albums from one of the characters.

Right off the bat it asks the question that the reades is asking, “What the hell is this?” and then it gets into the answers. It also has free short stories that prove I can construct a sentence and line it up logically with other sentences to produce a story. (One of the characters in The Weekly Man writes with his eyes closed. I don’t do that. Anymore.) There are also some freebies for readers who would like to try their hand at writing.

With a little over a week until I post the first episode, things are starting to come together. I’m nervous as hell, knowing that this isn’t going to be easy…making sure that each episode is posted before midnight every day for two and a half months, but I did this for a month with my photography and I didn’t go crazy, die, fling myself off a bridge, jump in front of cars in the full moon light, start smoking, hide under my bed till the crying stopped or drink myself into a stupor. (Well, maybe I did drink myself into a stupor…but I won’t do that his time.)

You can see the landing page in all its grandeur right here.

Of Sequels and Serials: The Serialized Novel Is Back (Or Was It Ever Gone?)

Starting

When you think of a novel, you think of a thick book, bound tightly, surrounded by an attention-grabbing cover, a sparkling spine…and bursting with meaningful ink. You picture hundreds, no, thousands of book spines displayed in perfect rows along miles of shelves in libraries and bookstores. You see gold leaf titles embossed on red and green leather stretching into imaginary libraries of the gods. This is the world of books: volumes, editions, series, bestsellers, paperback, hardback, pocketbook, coffee table book…these are entities that you can pick up and thumb through, read at your leisure and use as paperweights when you’re finished with them.

But not all books started off as potential paperweights. Some of the best novels started off a chapter at a time in magazines and newspaper supplements. You had to wait a week or more to read the next chapter.

No one seems to be sure exactly when this started, but most fingers point to Dickens, who published The Pickwick Papers in 19 installments between 1836 and 1837. It wasn’t his best novel, and some critics point to its serialization as the reason for its rambling unfocused nature, but he did much better in 1860 with his serialization of Great Expectations.

So, what is a serial novel? Wikipedia defines it as “In literature, a serial is a printing format by which a single larger work, often a work of narrative fiction, is published in smaller, sequential installments. The installments are also known as numbers, parts or fascicles, and may be released either as separate publications or within sequential issues of a periodical publication, such as a magazine or newspaper.”

Whew!

My definition of a serialized novel: “I’m going to publish one episode of The Weekly Man every day for two and a half months or until I go crazy.”

So much for my definition.

But let’s look at other novels that tiptoed into the literary world a ‘fascicle’ at a time: Uncle Tom’s Cabin, Madame Bovary, A Tale of Two Cities, Crime and Punishment, Treasure Island, The War of the Worlds, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, The Phantom of the Opera, Ulysses, The Secret Garden, A Farewell to Arms, In Cold Blood and Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. And this is just the tip of the iceberg.

There’s something about being involved in an ongoing activity that attracts us: the weekly poker game, the weekly date night, the daily horoscope…how many TV series can you count on your fingers and toes? Here’s a hint: A lot more that you have fingers and toes! And more on the way. It’s not enough to give us a one to two hour movie anymore; it has to be a series of ten or more episodes culminating with a victory by the good guys and followed up by another series next season after it’s learned that the good guys weren’t really victorious because…look…the problem’s back for another season.

When you think of it…baseball, hockey, basketball…these are all serialized episodes in a team-writing story of victory and loss culminating in a grand finale called the championship game.

We’re very much a serial society. If something pleases or interests us, we want more of it. It’s not enough to go back and re-read a book or re-watch a movie or sports event; we want more. This explains all those bad sequels to movies that weren’t all that great to begin with. How many sequels did Dumb and Dumber really merit? It boils down to the “want more of this” urge that proliferates in a world where everybody milks the moment to squeeze out a little more.

But with the serialized novel, we’re talking about one story spread over equal intervals leading to one inexorable ending, not the kind of story “add-on” that comes with sequels.

Unless, of course, the serialized novel has a sequel.

Hmm.

Come to think of it…a sequel to The Weekly Man. It would be the world’s second free daily serialized coffee break novel.

(Read The Weekly Man)

The Weekly Man – What Is the Coffee Break Novel?

CoffeeNovel

Everyone needs a coffee break. It’s that period of time during the workday when you say to yourself, “If I don’t have a coffee right now, this minute, I’m going to kill somebody.” Not that you particularly want to harm anyone (unless, of course, telemarketers have your work number) but, you know, it might be Monday. It might even be Monday morning. On the other hand, it might not be a weekday. It might be Saturday or Sunday and you’re sitting on the beach under a beautiful blue sky thinking, “Damn, I’m missing my coffee break. Why don’t beaches have coffee?” I do this all the time and I’m sure you do as well.

So, now that we’re thoroughly covered the topic of coffee breaks and their contribution to a healthy (and alive) workforce and their absence from beaches, let’s talk about coffee break activities. Some people read newspapers because they hate trees and want to see every tree in the world turned into a newspaper with stories about the shocking conspiracy to deforest the planet by sending the rain forests off to the printers. Some people like to talk to their co-workers about what they watched on TV the night before. This used to be Game of Thrones episodes. Now, it’s arguments about what happened on old Game of Thrones episodes, especially the finale. Some people like to just sit and stare. I’m seeing this more often and it kind of scares me. But we won’t get into that. Some people like to transport themselves out of the workplace and into another world (not the ones staring…they’ll be doing that all day) through the medium of story.

And that brings us to the coffee break novel. I scoured the internet for over a minute and the only mention I could find was a Kijiji ad posted by me. So…I guess that leaves it up to me to make up…I mean, define the coffee break novel.

Let’s start by listing some characteristics. First, it’s intended to be read during the reader’s coffee break. This can be problematic given that some people might be missing two coffee breaks each week because their employers refuse to let them work seven days a week, forcing them to take weekend coffee breaks at home so that they don’t miss any of the story. This could actually lead to dysfunctional activities like sneaking into work on weekend mornings but I’m sure that most people will opt to create a reproduction of their workplace in their basement or spare room so as not to miss a single episode. Others might do some speed reading Monday morning.

And speaking of episodes…that’s another characteristic of the coffee break novel: It’s parceled out in episodes…each with just enough reading to get you through your morning java fix. The Weekly Man is just right for this. It’s naturally broken into episodes following the lives of seven characters, each with their own day of the week to tell their story. There is one spot where this runs awry and may require a three to four day break before plummeting head first into the dazzling conclusion but that’s a few months away and, by the time it comes, I think all two of my readers will need a short break.

The coffee break novel should be mostly light-hearted as in humorous. I’m not saying there shouldn’t be serious, heart-breaking, soul-blistering, tear-prodding, existential moments, of which there are a few in the novel, but these are introduced for the sole purpose of pacing the story like a roller-coaster. There will be no flat lining in any of my stories. I mean, even Mary Poppins had her down moments. But for the most part, it’s going to be humor and lightness of being because it’s your coffee break and you don’t need to be crying and borrowing tissues from your co-workers on your coffee break. (WARNING: The first episode of The Weekly Man is not humorous. But it has a sort of happy ending.)

There has to be a strong element of weirdness so that the novel is able to compete against the news of the day, which keeps getting weirder by the day. And besides, I’m weird and it’s my invention, so I’m calling for weirdness.

All coffee break novels should have more than one character. This makes it much easier to create things like conversations, conflict, plot, human interaction and all those other elements that might cause a story to become interesting. Plus, there has to be both male and female characters because that’s more like real life and we’re all big fans of real life, aren’t we?

Words. The coffee break novel draws on a list of easily recognizable and commonly used words with careful attention paid to correct spelling and usage. I’m seeing less and less of this in most of the world’s published content, either online or in print and I think this is something we all need to enthusiastically gossip about in all the right places…because we all know that meeting a challenge with gossip is more effective than meeting it with thoughts and prayers. Hopefully, The Weekly Man will lead us out of this barbaric mire of editorial carelessness.

Well, actually, that probably won’t happen, but as long as there are coffee breaks, there will always be a need for something to do during the coffee break…and now the world has one more thing designed specifically for that.

It’s called the coffee break novel and The Weekly Man is the world’s first free daily serialized coffee break novel.

The Weekly Man: The Landing Page

Landing

So you’re putting in your 32 hours a day on the internet and you see an ad for horse shoes…and you just happen to be in the market for some horse shoes…if the price is right. Not that you have a horse; most of us don’t. But according to the ad, they’re on sale for just a dollar a shoe and you don’t have to own horses to know a horse shoe bargain when you see one. Feeling some weird kind of deja vu as you yell, “I’ll buy that for a buck!” you click the ad with the picture of horse shoes and bright red text proclaiming: Horse Shoes a Buck a Shoe.

Your request for horse shoe savings thunders over the internet like greased desire and takes you to the home page for Mac’s Horse Accessories: Everything But the Horse, and you’re suddenly looking at a bewildering array of horse accessories…scrolling page after scrolling page…and you’re thinking: You need this much shit to own a horse? And where the hell is the horse shoe sale?

The sale is buried somewhere on the site under gigabytes of information that has nothing to do with the sale. You guzzle whatever’s left in your wine glass and think nasty thoughts about Mac and his buried sale.

Before Mac posted the ad for the sale on horse shoes, he should have created a page on his site devoted specifically to that sale so that shoppers could immediately see the thing they came for and buy it. It’s called a landing page because it’s where you want the shopper to “land” when they click the ad. You want to make it easy for them to buy what you advertised. You don’t want them to go to your home page unless it has the horse shoe sale blazing across the top of the page with a Buy Me Right Bloody Now button.

It occurred to me that I need a landing page.

I’m going to be running three versions of The Weekly Man: one for laptops and desktops, one for cell phones and tablets, and a chronological version for people who start reading after the serialization begins. Plus, there will be lots of PDF giveaways like the character list and some free short stories. Everything and anything about The Weekly Man will be on this page.

“So,” you say. “Isn’t that like Mac’s home page, you bastard?”

To which I reply, “Well, sort of. But I’m not selling horse shoes. When I create a link, it should go to a page where people can find out what The Weekly Man is all about. It’s an orientation page with the information presented so that anyone can go there, see whether or not it’s for them, and either click the link that takes them to what they want or leave the page after deciding that they’re not quite ready for this weirdness.

The page will be live tomorrow (Friday, August 23). If you’re one of the two people who read my blog, I promise you…it won’t be confusing.

 

 

A Writer’s Real Job

Real Job

“So you want to be a writer, do you?” His eyes narrowed as he chuckled and I suddenly felt like I had two purple heads. “And what exactly are you going to do for your real job?”

Even with self-publishing making it possible for anyone on the planet to become a published writer, this attitude that writing (unless you just sold the movie rights to your bestselling novel and bought a new Ferrari) is somehow a pastime that people indulge in when they’re not spending their time accomplishing something useful like diagnosing a disease or making copious notes at Monday morning’s marketing meeting, even though the PowerPoint will be emailed to you later in the day…this attitude persists today much like it did 30 years ago.

It’s a lethal attitude. It’s killed countless creative efforts and pulled the rug out from under aspiring writers for as long as there have been aspiring writers.

It’s not always as blatant as in the example above; in fact, most of the time, it’s subtle, but always there, lurking under the surface of your interactions with the people around you.

“Can you pick Sheila up at the airport?”
“This is my writing time…remember the schedule? And I’m finally on a roll with Chapter 7. Can you pick her up?”
“I have to pick up the party favors for next weekend.”

“Pick them up tomorrow.”

“But I just want to get that out of the way. You can work on Chapter 9 tomorrow.”

Been in this situation before? You’ve scheduled your writing so that it’s not just a random thing you do whenever the creative juices bubble up. It’s something you take seriously and it’s probably more important to you than the job that helps pay for the party favors.

Part of the problem is that painfully long gap between starting a novel, finishing it and getting it published…if it ever gets published. It’s the immediate return on invested time and money. For instance, a plumber repairs your leaky sink and gets paid, all in a matter of hours. You go to the office, sit around for eight hours and collect a paycheck two weeks later. For most people, work has definite start and end dates with something accomplished (repaired sink, sore butt) for which there is a definite payment. You can schedule the start, end and reward.

Not always so in the arts world; in fact, rarely so. You might spend a few months or a few years writing a novel and, unless you’ve made a deal with a publisher, you’re not being paid while you’re writing and, if it’s your first novel, you haven’t established yourself as a professional writer. So most people will perceive your writing as a hobby…not as something to which you want to devote your life. And the longer it takes you to write your novel, the less likely they’ll take it seriously: they’ll see it as your little dream, that quirky little thing you do in the background of your life while you in your keep from the real job selling cars or insurance.

This attitude can be devastating, especially during those times when you’re having doubts and feeling the angst of doing something for ages that’s moving forward slowly but: “who’s going to read it?” “do I really have anything important to say?” “what the hell am I doing?”

That kind of stuff. It can kill you as a writer. I’ve had five novels published and tons of short stories, but I still have these feelings, these doubts that what I’m doing is even worth the effort. Fortunately, I expect the negative thoughts and I keep writing at the scheduled times (yes, I schedule my writing because, like my fulltime job, it’s work).

I’m not saying there won’t be those moments of pure joy when you read something you wrote the night before and you’re floored by the idea that you, yes you, wrote these beautiful words. Those moments are worth the fear and loathing of a thousand moments of doubt. But the novel isn’t finished. You’re halfway through and you’ve been working on it for over a year. You have another year to go, maybe longer.

I try to alleviate the uncertainty by storyboarding my novels before I start the writing, but once I’m 30 or 40 pages into it, the characters and story take off and the storyboard evaporates in the heat of the writing. But the structure and direction it initially provides carries me through. A diver is more likely to dive successfully from a solid board than a rubber one.

Not everyone is into storyboarding, and I get it…it’s work and you might not know where the story is going until you start writing. This happens to me with my short fiction. But storyboard or not, it’s a long process and it eats a lot of time and requires daily sacrifices. So much of writing is discouraging and, if you’re like most of the writers I know, you’re not going to get the kind of support you really need: acknowledgment that your writing is just as valuable as anything else you do, and maybe even more so.

It’s not just a hobby. It’s not just a distraction from the real stuff. It’s what you are and what you want to be.

It means putting things in a writer’s perspective. For instance, would you take time off the 9 to 5 job to pick Sheila up at the airport? If not, why would you take time off from your scheduled writing? You might say, “Well, I have more flexibility with my own time.”

“My own time”?

That attitude has turned many a promising word smith into dissatisfied retiree with a lot of regrets. I know some of these people. They still talk about that novel they should have written and maybe, when they have some free time in their post-retirement life, they’ll get around to it.

Your own time is when you write…when you’re who and what you are.

When people don’t take your writing seriously, feel free to take those people and whatever they do with a grain of salt. Better yet, avoid them. Unless you have no choice but to interact with them, just stay clear of them. Treat them as toxic chemicals. If you’re stuck with them, don’t talk about your writing. They don’t deserve to hear about it.

Resolve that you will be spending much of your time alone, even when you’re in a crowded area like I am when I write in coffee shops. While others are gliding through their mundane lives, you’re creating new worlds, birthing personalities that grow and evolve, focusing on those little things that everyone misses until they read about them in your novel and think, “Oh yeah…that.”

That’s your real job.

 

(BTW…don’t miss the first episode of the world’s first free daily serialized coffee break novel, The Weekly Man, coming September 8.)

Coffee Shops and the Single Writer

Coffee Shop Cover

I’m a coffee shop writer. I’ve written five novels in coffee shops because they’re the only place I can write fiction. There’s something about the atmosphere and the availability of coffee that burrows deep into the headlands of my creativity and starts a stampede of words and ideas. I write for about an hour to an hour and a half each evening and get one to two pages (yep, I’m no Stephen King). Anywhere else and I might get a paragraph or two and on very rare occasions, a whole page. Surprisingly, it doesn’t matter what coffee shop or where it is…if it’s a coffee shop, the trail to the headlands is a six lane highway into story telling.

And yes, I’ve written about writing in coffee shops before; in fact, my last post covered some of the hurdles to overcome. But this post is about single writers who write in coffee shops and why they’re likely to remain single forever.

To begin with…being a writer is a sentence to singleness. I mean it. Most of the writers I know are single…and not necessarily happy about it. Some have fond memories of those days when they had someone special in their lives, someone who understood them and stuck in there in spite of long hours alone while their writer mate disappeared into the jowls of a coffee shop (we’re talking just about coffee shop writers here) to do mysterious things with words. They put up with the roller coaster of moods and lifestyle that brand writers as persona non cool. They looked the other way when the writer, foaming at the mouth and crazy-eyed, tried to explain the world-shaking ramifications of not being able to find the right word to describe Sam’s blue shirt.

“Just say it’s blue,” she says.

“But how will they know the blue?” he responds.

“By the use of the word blue,” she says.

“But how will they feel the blue,” he says.

“You only feel blue when you’re sad,” she says.

“You don’t understand me,” he cries.

“You’re making a mountain out of…” she tries to say.

“You’re just like the rest of them,” he yells.

And suddenly, he’s single. And not necessarily happy about it.

The same things happen to female coffee shop writers, proving there’s no gender inequality when it comes to losing at love, especially if you can sneak a bit of the loss into a story.

There’s something about creating worlds with words that takes you out of everybody else’s world and plops you into a place that only exists in your own mind, like when was talking to a group of co-workers while I was working on my first novel. I started talking about a man called Baxter. The others looked at me in a strange way, like my head had just fallen off. One of them said, “Who’s Baxter?”

It suddenly dawned on me that Baxter was one of the characters in my novel. That’s how real he’d become and how unreal the world of my co-workers had become. Sadly, this didn’t discourage me from writing; in fact, it probably spurred me on. Something along the lines of OK, I’ve lost it with these people, so what do I have left? Oh right…Baxter and friends.

Writing is a deep uncharted pit with a shallow slope that slants ever more precariously as you slide into it. It leads into a place where a blue shirt is deep sea or sky blue, not just blue. A place where nothing is whole until the last draft, or until an editor has a better idea for blue. It’s a place where you can get lost, where you can drift away from everything that’s known into a great unknown that you get to arrange and rearrange until you’re satisfied that it’s the right color of blue.

Sound crazy?

It is. And it’s not like those writers who write at home where the better half (at least, saner half) can pop in say, “Hi, how’s it going?”

“What’s another way of saying blue?”

“Just write blue.  I think people will get it.”

“You don’t understand me.”

“Don’t stay up too late.” Door closes. Writer is alone to stew in blue. Until bed time.

But for some, the coffee shop calls out to us and off we go, single and bursting with words under the brilliant azure sky.

Coffee Shops and Espresso

Coffeeshops

Many years ago I was contacted by a crazy man in New Mexico who said that he’d finally tracked down the 12 weirdest writers on planet Earth and wanted them to submit stories for an anthology he had in mind. Apparently, I was one of those 12. He wanted three or four stories from each of us. At the time, I was several months into a nasty case of writer’s block. All my words had flown south for the winter and stayed there for the summer. But, I thought, maybe this was a way to get those words flying home.

Around the same time, my daughter had started working in a coffee shop. Each evening, I dropped by to drive her home, which usually meant waiting around while she cleaned up and cashed out, so I brought along a notebook and pen and started writing weird short stories for the first Twisted Tails anthology. There was something about the atmosphere (and maybe the coffee) that triggered the writer in me and the words started flowing in the notebook.

I wrote 4 short stories and started back on the novel. I didn’t have a laptop at the time, so everything was done in pencil. I don’t recommend this…it’s messy and then you have to put everything into a computer document, which isn’t all that bad with short stories but downright painful with a novel. I finally broke down and bought a laptop when I realized that coffee shops were now the only places where I could write. I needed a cup of java surrounded by a coffee shop to pry the words from my subconscious.

When I tell people where I write, they say things like, “Doesn’t the noise bother you?” “How do you stay focused?” “Boy, are you weird.” And these are the nice things they say.

There’s just something about a coffee shop that says, “You will now write. You will not rush to the kitchen and wash those dinner dishes. You will write. No…stop thinking about vacuuming the floor…you’re in a coffee shop. Just…write.” I don’t have all the distractions of home. I can’t spend an hour installing a new flush on the toilet when I can’t think of what to write next or conceive the words to describe Carla’s red dress in Chapter 2. Sure, I can walk over to the coffee shop’s condiments counter and self-debate the concept of adding honey to my coffee but, after a few tries, I realized that I don’t like anything sweet in my coffee. At home, I would be compelled to stare out the window waiting for the next crow to fly by to make it an even number while Carla’s red dress remained just red.

Noise doesn’t distract me; the need for a distraction distracts me.

Coffee shop noise is relaxing once you get used to it. It fades into the distance like background music and yields to the stampede of words spewing out of my mind. The only noise that bothers me is that loudmouth in every crowd whose voice is almost a yell…and these are the ones who can’t keep their mouth shut, the ones whose eyes are continually darting around the tables, hoping that everyone is dropping what they’re doing and listening to the steady stream of drivel spilling out of their mouths. I have a pair of noise cancellation headphones for situations like this and, if I can still hear them, I beat them to death with the headphones. In a coffee shop, this is called performance art.

One of the big things that helps coax the words out is the acceptance of fate: I’m here to write, gawdamit, and I’m going to write. Almost as soon as I sit down, swig some coffee and open my laptop I’m ready to write. Sometimes it starts slowly and sometimes it jumps the starter pistol. But I’m in a coffee shop and what do I do in a coffee shop? I write. And yes, sometimes it’s crap (well, maybe a lot of the time…we’re talking first draft), but at least I have something I can work with later…or…I have something that’s always going to be crap…but I’m the only one who’s seen it. I guess the key word is routine. Once you get into a coffee shop writing routine, it becomes increasingly easy to just plough into the paragraphs and push the novel ahead a page or two at a time.

But what about people I know? People who see me sitting at my table clacking the keys to beat all hell, pumping out the words in a steady stream of storytelling? Most will pass my table with a quiet hello or “Writing again, are you? That what your doin’?”

“Yep.” Smiling. Ready to use the headphones one way or the other.

But they keep walking and I get back to Carla’s red dress. Pomegranate. Nope. Fire engine. Nope.

It’s the ones who can’t help themselves, the ones who see me and are suddenly driven to make some sort of impression by standing over me and expecting answers to their dumb questions.

“So what’s this one about?”

“It’s a secret.”

“Who’s in it?”

“Can’t tell you.”

“Would you like to see the 156 pictures I took with my iPhone over the weekend?”

“No.”

But they won’t stop asking questions. They won’t go away. They have me cornered. I have to do something drastic. I say, “Nice talking to you. Gotta get back to it. See you later.” And I bury my entire being into the writing. This almost always does it and I’ve only had to tell two people to fuck off and let me write in all the years I’ve been writing in coffee shops.

And then, of course, there’s the coffee. There’s something about the fragrance and body of coffee (not to mention the caffeine) that commands, “Creativity…stand to attention!” that begins to happen even before the first sip.

I used to drink wine while I wrote poetry. This is why you’ll see very little of my poetry published anywhere. I know people who can’t write prose without wine. I’m not one of them. One sip of wine and I want to write bad, evil poetry. Wine is my prose kryptonite. Coffee is my spinach, especially espresso or German Chocolate Cake. With the exception of espresso, I insert a double whammy of 18% cream into my coffee, a practice that can be bad only if you drink over 10 cups of coffee in an evening, which is why I never drink more than 10 cups of coffee in an evening.

“But wait!” you say. ”Shouldn’t you avoid any coffee after 5 in the evening? I’m sure I read that on the internet.”

Yes…coffee after 5. It can keep you awake for 6 to 8 hours. I generally start writing around 7 and write until around 9. I used to go home and drink a bottle of wine before bed. I don’t recommend this. I did this for 10 years and almost murdered my liver. After my doctor told me to give up writing in coffee shops or “you’re a dead man” I decided to drop the wine and stay up all night.

I don’t know of a solution to this. After a day in the IT industry, I’m tired and unfocused.  I need that coffee before diving into my creative wellspring. Otherwise, I’m diving into bath water…used bathwater. Skunky old used bathwater. But I recently did some experimentation and here’s what I found: A double espresso seems to keep me up just half the night. Anything else will keep me awake all night.

Go figure. Maybe this article from Kicking Horse Coffee explains it.