Actually, I’m not a morning person, especially if I have to get out of bed quickly and face the world. But I can appreciate it’s a good time of the day; quieter, with maybe a feeling of promise…
Thinking about writing routines, I find mornings useful for reading, jotting notes – anything that’s a bit unfocussed, a bit like half-dreaming. Anything I try to write will seem like unadulterated shit, but I sometimes write it anyway. Later, it doesn’t seem so awful, and I can use some of it. I just had the Morning Goggles on, when everything’s crap and of no value, I might as well go back to bed etc etc yawn.
I wish I were like Billy Collins’s protagonist:
This is the best –
throwing off the light covers,
feet on the cold floor,
and buzzing around the house on espresso – //
maybe a splash of water on the face,
a palmful of vitamins –
but mostly buzzing around the house on espresso, //
dictionary and atlas open on the rug,
the typewriter waiting for the key of the head,
a cello on the radio, //
and, if necessary, the windows…..
(from ‘Morning’, in Taking Off Emily Dickinson’s Clothes, 2000, Picador, p.113)
My apologies that the blog won’t allow stanza breaks for some reason. Looks so wrong without them! It makes you realise how important theyy are for a poem’s pacing and tone, especially in one of Collins’s.