I write from 4-5 AM to 7-8 AM every single day of the year, while my spouse (and the whole city around us) is sleeping. I’m 50+ and have been doing that for almost 30 years now. Younger, I used to write at night.

I like to sit in front of a small table (whose height I adjusted toi fit my own needs) placed in front of the windows in our living room, and just write while the sun slowly rises and light up the roofs of Paris. As cliché as it sounds, it is as great to watch today as it was 30 years or so ago when we moved in. And we’re not even living in one of those ‘pretty’ spots people can see in movies ;)

No electronics to distract or blind me (I write longhand), no music as I prefer to work in complete silence beside a few birds waking up and saying ‘Hi!’ from nearby trees. Or maybe they’re saying ‘why is this complete moron not sleeping like all the others?’ who knows. When the weather is nice, I will move onto the balcony so I can better listen to them. Birds have become much rarer, alas. The real issue is cars, trucks and motorcycles but I would say up until 6.30 there are barely any in our street. They become real annoying fast though and at 7 you can forget any notion of ‘quiet’.

No drinking beside a glass of water or a tea up until breakfast time, which is somewhere around 7.45 when I hear my spouse has woken up and is showering. I quit writing and go buy some croissants or some other pastries (I know, another cliché but that’s what it is) to the small bakery at the corner of our street (with so many clichés, we will soon have a full photo album), which sells 100% handmade stuff that are so fucking good (people start queuing at 7.30, the moment it opens).

After breakfast, we spend some time together with my spouse and then she goes to work (from home) and I go do whatever the fuck I fancy as I consider my work day done (only bothering with the mandatory financial stuff later in the day)