1. Spring 1970. Writing on THE FOREVER WAR at the outdoor hot dog cafe in Brooksville. It opened at 9 in the morning and had ice-cold beer. Outside of town, on the road to Ocala. Biked there with the Olivetti Valentine strapped on the bike, maybe a half-mile. They had great foot-long chili dogs!

But I'd start my day before that. I'd usually get up around 4 and have a quick shower while the espresso machine perked. Wake up with a triple espresso and then decelerate into deceptively strong Luzianne (half chicory).

Best writing days . . .

Writing at home before dawn, while our Manx Petie (named after Heinlein's Petronius Arbiter) sat and napped in the bookcase overhead. Once she started make retching noises, and I just managed to snatch the typewriter away in time!

2. Same machine, an Olivetti Valentine, writing in the bodega across the alleyway from our little hotel in Sevilla, Old Town.

(On perhaps the same machine, I wrote a story about a storm to end all storms, typing in the most pleasant environment imaginable -- on the fragrant veranda of a motel in Montego Bay, surrounded by humid darkness. Quiet surf under a crescent moon.)