There it sits a few feet away. In book form. My book. The novel I wrote. What to do with it? The box actually arrived three days ago. I knew what was in the box and opened it with a kitchen knife. Tripio was bigger and thicker than I thought and expected. It didn’t “feel” like 333 pages when I was writing it. Wait, wait! On second thought, I did plan every word, comma and space. Because I wanted the final printed, for sale edition, to end up being 333 pages. Threes. Tripio. Three story lines. What I genius I am!
Of course the above is nonsense. Except maybe the part about me being a genius. Actually, if I were that smart, I would have done something brilliant with my five proof copies of Tripio. Yet, after I took one out of the box and looked it over with a smile, I let them sit in that box for a couple days.
Those couple days later it is occurring to me that I think I was afraid I wouldn’t like Tripio anymore. Tripio arriving as a real book was like your best friend from high school or college dropping by after not seeing you in twenty years. Would you still like him or her ? Would he or she like you? I wanted to retrieve the journals I kept while writing Tripio and find the entries that I wrote in which I was excited about the creation of Tripio. I wanted to find the passage I wrote when I knew Tripio was great. I knew was doing all I could to write a unique and wonderful book. I did not. I simply went about my work week. I let some friends a family know that the proof copies were in my possession and that was about it.
I think that it felt odd to have Tripio back in the house because I had been practicing giving it away. I have made it an intention during my morning yoga to release attachments and expectations to and for Tripio. It is no longer mine. It does not feel comfortable to have it to myself again. Like the old friend whose jokes no longer makes you laugh. What do you then do? After a couple days the answer came.
I decided to take my old friend Tripio out in public where we could relax together and get reacquainted. That was yesterday, the third day after getting the proof copies. I packed Tripio in my bag and we headed off to Coat Check coffee https://www.coatcheckcoffee.com/.
It made sense. It was a way of coming full circle. Remember that Tripio was actually begat 25 years ago in Chicago’s coffee houses and early Starbucks locations.
So, in the spacious and calm environs of Coat Check, my dear old companion and I got reacquainted. The coffee of the day was an Ethiopian, always a favorite varietal of mine. This felt right. As the barista called out the occasional drink order in the background I read over the first chapter and felt relieved that I still liked my dear old friend. Relieved and needing to relieve myself, I got up to use the facilities. Upon returning to my table, I saw my old friend awaiting me, looking content and relaxed on that table next to my mug of coffee. It was Tripio at home again and sure all along that this would happen.
Tripio and I were still friends.
“May I help who’s next?”
Tags: coffee, Coffee and Starbucks, coffee lovers, espesso, historical fiction, Writing novels