There are the five old guys who meet faithfully on Monday mornings, laughing, reading aloud to one another, maybe praying (I try not to eavesdrop for that part) — heads bent together over empty plates and steaming mugs of coffee and then thrown back in joviality. Young people starting and running businesses. Women gossiping, talking about books, crocheting. Even little groups of writers. The lawyer and his wife-slash-assistant. The lady who is always cold and has what appears to have the world’s largest cardigan collection: I’ve never seen her wear the same one twice. Allen, the Harley-riding organizational consultant who read TMP out of curiosity. He says, “Next time, more car chases. And maybe some politics. Otherwise it was pretty good. I didn’t hate it.”

These are my coworkers, many days. They’re my ambiance and my connection to humanity. Some days we ignore one another entirely, other days there’s a wave or a smile or even a few minutes of small talk.

People joke about writers in coffee houses… like one of my favorite moments ever from Family Guy (pardon the weird echo, which I’m certain is NOT attributable to the fact that some guy recorded this clip with his phone while watching this episode in his living room).

With all due respect to Seth MacFarlane and this hilarious bit, I don’t agree that most people who write in coffee houses do so because they need to be seen writing. I say, if you want to be seen, try writing in a tree. Downtown. Naked. For me, and I suspect for others as well, we show up at the coffee house because writing and other solitary occupations are often excruciatingly isolating.

Once the kids are dropped at school and preschool, and Hubs has made his way to work, our house is suddenly and unbelievably… quiet. Maybe too quiet. As a mom of young children, a quiet house is sort of like the chicken tenders and ribs basket at Applebee’s. With french fries and honey mustard. You think you want it, almost desperately, until you actually get it. Then you’re reaching for your TUMS and looking across the table at your friend’s salad (or across the street at someplace that isn’t, you know, Applebee’s).

A quiet house is kind of a shock to the system when most of your days are filled with the sound of clashing plastic light sabers, followed by the invariable screams of outrage when one or both light sabers hits someone, and the unending chorus of “mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy” and “I want, I need, I don’t.” I’m telling you, one of these days some unsuspecting adult person, not given to my care, is going to whine at me about something and I’m just going to punch them right in the mouth.

Exhausting as all that is, take away all of it at once, and the silence becomes deafening. It’s hard to be creative when you can hear your own damn heartbeat.

So the coffee shop is a refuge. The background noises, the occasional niceties with the other regulars. The weird couple in their 60’s feeling one another up at the table next to me.  Even though I wear headphones blaring my own music sometimes and can’t always hear the other conversations going on around me, it’s nice to know they’re there. There’s the coffee and food I don’t have to make myself. And overall a reduced risk that I will become a hermit and start talking to birds. Sweet.

Writers and all creative folks need communities, especially those of us that lean toward extroversion. We need people around us to encourage us, to steady us, to inspire us, and to generally acknowledge our existence. Sometimes it’s helpful if these folks are other writers – like in a critique group – but sometimes a mutual appreciation for human contact and a warm beverage is enough.

Cheers to all you coffee house workers – those who make it, those who serve it, and those who channel that delicious caffeine into whatever’s next.

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I’m M.J. (Manda) Pullen, an author and mom in the Atlanta, Georgia area. I blog about writing, publishing, motherhood, health, psychology and whatever else strikes me in the moment.

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My books include The Marriage Pact series, a trilogy of funny, semi-realistic Contemporary Romance/Women’s Fiction novels forthcoming from St. Martin’s Press. Thanks for reading!

MJ Pullen

M.J. Pullen is a distracted writer and the mom of two boys in Roswell, Georgia, where she is absolutely late for something important right now. Her books include quirky romantic comedies and playful women's fiction. She blogs erratically with writing advice, random observations, and reflections on raising very loud kids and dogs. Join her Distracted Readers newsletter list for updates, free content, giveaways and more.