My Next Writerly Adventure Began in Amsterdam

Going back to write in that same café

I snag a spot by the big window. A seat or two to the left of where I sat almost precisely a year ago, writing my very first Substack post.

It’s a marvellous café. One large space. A long wooden table in the middle. Two walls almost entirely made of windows. Posters plaster one wall. The coffee machine huffs and puffs in the back.

Many are here with laptops, like me. It has the atmosphere of a casual coworking space. Modern, simple, light. Sitting down by the window, I feel happy and hopeful.

Going back

So here I am. One year later, same spot, same fingers rattling over the keyboard. I'm in a café in Amsterdam, writing. It's overcast this time around, not the same brilliant sunshine I had last year, when I wrote my first Substack post. But that's okay. 

Things are the same; things are different. I have run my Substack for a year now. I have a full-time job as a content and copywriter. I've scaled back my creative coaching to focus on my own writing. The cup beside me has the same charming design, green and round, but is filled with coffee instead of matcha latte.

And now, I'm ready to start a new story. A new novel. My next writerly adventure.

That's what I'm here to do, today. It's a story that’s been in the back of my mind for a while now. The first seed of the idea arrived, suddenly and unexpectedly, in November of 2022. I took down notes and shelved it as a maybe one day project.

Then, a year later, it started to stir again. New layers emerging, new angles expanding the story. A little excitement tugging.

Here I am. And it’s time to write.

A new story begins

I sip my coffee, headphones in my ears. I close my eyes for a moment. Am I nervous? Yes, a little. Daunted, is probably a better word. I know how much work a novel is. My last book project took so many years to write.

But more than daunted, I feel excited. That I'm going to have a good time with this story. 

I open my eyes again. Look at the laptop in front of me, the canal behind the window. Clouds pass quickly in the sky. It's windy today. 

Much like visiting Amsterdam, starting to write a new story feels like an adventure, a new yet familiar adventure. I’ve been here before, both physically and as a writer. At the start of a new story, unknowns before me, filled with ideas and questions, curious about where this one will take me. And I’ve also been here before, in this old, beautiful city, with its wonky houses and pancakes and many canals. In this perfect writing café.

I put my fingers on the keyboard, and I start writing.

A new story begins.