Coffee Shop Writing Novels & Stories

Isla’s POV The hiss of the espresso machine was the soundtrack of my college life. Not glamorous, not exciting - just steady. Safe. My part time job at the coffee shop wasn’t much but it paid for books and rent, and for a few hours a day, I could feel normal. “Double latte for Sam,” I called out, sliding the cup across the counter with my best customer service smile, as “Sam” walks…or waddles over looking like he really could use the shot of caffeine.

work winding down, takeout decisions, and the relaxed settling in that signaled the conclusion of another day in their shared lives. "How's the book coming?" Max questioned, bringing her feet into his lap. "Slowly. My editor continues asking for more information about the psychological consequences of being threatened by dangerous criminals, yet I keep wanting to write about how you make me coffee every morning without being asked." "The coffee thing is more interesting?" "The coffee thing is what really transformed my life. The illicit activity was only dramatic window dressing." Max grinned softly, making her stomach flutter even after all this time. "What did you write

Aspens POV Eleven months ago People always assume working in a coffee shop means you spend your day drinking overpriced lattes and chatting with customers. They're wrong. Ninety percent of my shift is spent steaming milk, pretending I didn't hear someone ask for a cappuccino with no foam, wiping down tables that somehow become sticky five seconds after I've cleaned them, and wondering whether caffeine should count as a personality trait. Personally, I think it should. Some people have hobbies. I have coffee, books and an unhealthy habit of mentally redesigning small businesses in my head that don't belong to me.

Soren quickly agreed and sat again beside her, making it very obvious that he preferred sitting beside her than going to the counter. “Do you want anything?” Yana stood up and asked Soren. “I’m good, thanks,” he said. Yana then went to the counter. “Cafephany,” Maggie read the name of the coffee shop on the menu. “Nice name, so unique. Was it yiut’s my idea and no, it doesn’t pertain to the religious epiphany, it’s about the sudden realization of great things,” Soren said, smiling. “Usually, especially, in my case, epiphany happens to ne while I’m having coffee. I mean, I think of great ideas while I’m drinking coffee. And I’m sure it happens to a lot of people, too.”

I huffed pushing the door open “ Creed doesn’t think cream cheese on a bagel tastes good. He’s literally not human.” Ryan griped “ Is that really what you two are arguing about?” Walking over to the coffee mug that sat on my desk I can tell it is hot which means the cook just brought it in not too long ago. Taking a sip, I take in the hotness that runs down my throat as peace in this messed up word. Anyone who says coffee has no effect on you mentally are people who have never drank and enjoyed coffee before.

from the coffee machine's point of view. I grinned, feeling a surge of inspiration. This was going to be fun. *** I started typing away on my computer, the words flowing easily as I got into the zone. I wrote about the coffee machine's daily struggles, its joys and its sorrows. I wrote about the countless cups of coffee it had dispensed, the late-night conversations it had witnessed, and the early-morning rushes it had endured. As I wrote, I found myself getting more and more into character. I was no longer just Delilah, the assistant secretary. I was the office coffee machine, pouring my heart and soul into every cup.

Daylight was a glaring bitch this morning, sunlight aggressively spilling through her apartment. “You know, they have these places,” Laura said sharply as Josie walked past her, into the kitchen, and grabbed the coffee sack, plopping it next to the coffee machine. “They’re called coffee shops. Professional coffee people make it for you and you give them these green pieces of paper and you get to drink it.” “Green pieces of paper?” “Or silver coins.” She yawned. “Or plastic cards.” “But they don’t have stories about threesomes like you do.”

Alexis POV; After leaving school i went to the café to relax,but i saw Sophie there "Hey sis" i say walking up to her "Why you here so early?" She asked "Didn't feel too good" "Okay..wanna work?" "Sure,why not" i say to her and drop my bag in the store room and came back in an apron and without my glasses and hair in a ponytail I stayed as the corner and prepared the coffees,the café was really slow,only 3 people had come the whole day,so i decided to start studying and i went into the store room

"Usually when I'm having a hard time getting inspiration, I'll listen to music." The masculine voice startled Deen from her reverie. She looked up and immediately stared at the handsome figure who so dominated the room, with all black clothes and a mysterious classic face. Deen frowned, looked behind her. There were no other people nearby, so it was true that this man was greeting her. She doesn't know this man, how can this man know that she is writing? "Writers usually come to this cafe at night, fill every corner and try to find inspiration." The man smiled. "I'm sorry for being rude to just greet you." He held out his hand. "Hello, I own this cafe, my name is Jeff."

I sighed and just nodded because I'm too lazy to speak. We went to a coffee shop— the Early Hail Coffee Shop. I always went her everytime I feel like drinking coffee. As always most of the people here in the coffee shop are looking at us — should I say me? “1 espresso” I said. “1 latté, please”