Is There Magic in Writing in Cafés?
Why we seek community even in solo work.
When you’re procrastinating, do you ever get a boost of work energy from simply going somewhere and opening your computer in the presence of other people?
If so, where do you find yourself most inspired, most productive? Does that change, depending on your mood?
As an extroverted introvert (meaning I can perform in crowds but I generally prefer working alone), I have no problem spending a lot of solo time with my computer.
But everyone needs to get out sometimes, right? When energy feels blocked and things just aren’t “happening.” For me, the right café setting can be a solution, a way to break through by way of a change of atmosphere. And Paris, with its café culture, is perfect for that.
Do you find working among strangers creates a bit of a buzz for you? Is there a collective energy from which you can draw anonymously, something that’s feeding your creativity above and beyond a coffee and a croissant?
There’s a kind of quiet peer pressure I find intriguing when working in a café where others are pursuing their own objectives. Maybe I see someone else writing and I think, hey, I’m writing too!
Today I walked through les Jardins du Luxembourg, where so many people were sitting, reading, napping, talking, strolling. It’s late September and the weather is still warm, but there was a kind breeze and a very gentle energy in the middle of the afternoon.
It had been a struggle to get out of the apartment, which is cozy and luminous. I am a bit “enrhumée” (I have a cold) and had really just craved un petit rupillon (a nap) in the pool of sunshine that splashes across our bedroom. And sometimes we should nap, we should rest ourselves in preparation for our next effort. There is no shame in self-care—it deserves all our respect.
But I knew I wanted to finish some work, so I tempted myself with the walk and the promise of a seat at a café I used to visit on each of my solo trips to Paris over the years.
It’s not the most beautiful place, nor the most illustrious. But it faces the gardens and its proximity to the Pantheon and St. Germain make it a busy spot, so it’s good for people watching.
I found a very comfy if small table outside in a corner, protected by a pale green wood and glass modular wall and two potted palm trees.
Being there alone again, I was struck by the fact that the last time I came to Le Rostand was about a year and a half ago, the week before my wedding. I’d met up with one of my closest friends who had flown in for the festivities. We’d drunk Champagne and laughed and cried. Neither one of us could believe that at fifty-four years old, I’d finally found the man I wanted to marry and I was going to risk it all, slipping way out of my comfort zone and moving to France for a new life.
Yes, I was confronting one of the biggest transformations of my life. But aren’t we all going through some kind of transformation, almost always, whether small or grand?
There was a kind of comfort in revisiting this café space now, in using it in a different way. That’s what I’ve come to realize—spaces can mean different things to us in different times. Cafés mean possibility, connection, a table (if not a room) of one’s own, a cup of something good, and time to explore thoughts, feelings, work, wherever we are in our process as creative beings, as human beings.
It feels different to write in a café in Paris now, because Paris is my city. I’m no longer just a visitor. Also, I got some real writing done today amid the bubbly buzz of the café, so I feel grateful.
I’d love to hear from any other writers out there—do you like to write in cafés or other public spaces? Do you have a favorite café or spot, in Paris or in your town? What helps you get inspired and get your work done?
absolument ... une de mes activités préférées.