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I'm happy to just sit in a cafe and watch people. It's my favorite thing to do, for sure.

Sitting in my favorite coffeehouse with a new notebook and a hot cup of java is my idea of Heaven.

I'd much rather hang out in a cafe. That's where things are really happening.

I have spent my life on the road waking in a pleasant, or not so pleasant hotel, and setting off every morning after breakfast hoping to discover something new and repeatable, something worth writing about.

I have a group of cafes and coffee shops that I go to regularly. They usually have an area where I can plug in my computer and have a corner seat where I can do a couple hours of writing or whatever, even the noise of the surrounding people walking by. Those things are the things that stimulate me into writing.

I love getting out the house because writing is such a solitary business that even being at the library makes me feel part of the world.

Occasionally, I just need to escape from my work or be reminded of the comparative bliss of my own life, so I pick up a novel.

I guess I could take things from every place that I've been and find something familiar and wonderful about it that makes me feel like I'm at home.

I do have an office where about 70 percent of my writing gets done, but sometimes it does get a bit stir-crazy to be cooped up in there, so I'll grab my laptop and write somewhere else: another room in the house, out on the patio, or even Heaven-forbid, a trip to Starbucks. But I also write on the road.

I write almost entirely in bed or on a couch with my feet up on the coffee table. I feel most creative when I'm looking out the window, and my bed and couch have nice views of the New York skyline.