At the Farmers sbux and with ten minutes to write. Have to catch a call by way of skype from MA, first of its kind, at 10AM. Healdsburg is about 30 mins from where my car’s parked outside, so I should have enough time. Content today in the tasting room.. wine.. sipping.. new tasting notes and words, ways of bringing the wine more alive for consumers.. and ideas for later articles…
Sitting in a cozy seat right by the door which makes it less cozy with that damp air slithering under my sweater.. needed 10 minutes of writing time before getting back on the road. Emma slept a bit better last night, a little. Too many people around me and I become conscious of them and uncomfortable.. the writer has to leave, stop his reflective keypushes, and just go. The imported white I opened last night, not as resounding as I remember— lacking roundness and gravity, and memorable palate impact. Which is a positive I see, for it shows and reminds me how the impression in the tasting room won’t always carry to when you open the bottle at home. Interesting, I thought as a wine consumer myself.
The older men in the seats near and around me left, leaving me here but still by the door, getting chilled every 10-30 seconds or so. 9:10.. edit this post a bit then go.. brought my real camera today, so I should get out in the Two Birds Vineyard, take shots of little water drops falling or clinging to the trellis wires. Post them to vvv blog, write about them— or whatever I want. Whatever the story wants. Yes, I learned yesterday the story CAN BE wrong at times, but then I think it’s just me the character interpreting it that way. There has to be conflict, right, or some occasional disquietude for the character, right? Otherwise they don’t grow, they don’t develop, they persist as that repugnant bland cracker role on the page.