As any decent or half-decent author will tell you, cafés are the place where we go to write or make it look like we're writing to look cool and not feel pointless. We can sit in places like Starbucks, Panera Bread, Dunkin's (if we're desperate), or a local mom and pop joint (if we're lucky or hipster enough) for hours on end.

Of course, if you're at all familiar with the average writing process, you also know your way around writer's block about as well as the actual block where you live. It's the common cold of the writing world, the author's most frequent frustration. And just like the common cold, there's no definite cure--just vaguely suggested treatments from people like your uncle that you're not so sure are solutions as much as they are sources of entertainment for anyone who happens to be watching.

Most solutions to writer's block consist of you distracting or diverting yourself from the problem--the piece of writing on which you've gotten stuck. This can include taking a walk, grabbing a snack or drink to refuel, or engaging in a creative exercise to get your mental gears turning again. One of my favorite exercises is descriptive eavesdropping--picking a random stranger in public and sneaking many covert glances at them as I describe them in my mind, jotting down the description in a notebook or on my phone. I try to make as many deductions about their life and personality as I can from what I can see in their hair, clothes, food/drink choices, and their facial expression. I have no way of knowing if the deductions I make are correct, but I like to think that I'm usually close.

I like this exercise for two reasons. On one hand, it's my best method of breaking out of writer's block. On the other, it's a great way of storing details for fictional characters I might use in the future--not to mention the fact that it's a really good way to keep your creative writing skills honed if you do it regularly. If you need more encouragement to try this sometime or are wondering what this exercise can end up looking like, here's a description of someone I saw while sitting in a café earlier today. Enjoy.

She is the "20 years later" variant of the prom queen. Her knee-length maroon cardigan over a black knit dress and leggings would be paired with bright, trendy riding boots by a younger woman, but she eschews them in favor of black penny loafers. A fashion oversight, or a conscious choice?

Her reading glasses sport intricate spirals, a sign of particular taste. Nails are black to match her clothes. Lipstick is minimal, if existent. A black rainproof trench is carefully draped on the back of her chair. Her motif seems to consist of the subtle and the functional. She is handsome to be sure, but not gaudy, not overt. Hers is a mature and subtle elegance. The only thing that might betray a youthful drive is her hair--gently pale blonde, cascading to the small of her back in a straight fall that hints of a hairdresser's touch.

Food of choice is a salad and fruit, either the discipline to remain healthy or the fight to maintain a figure--perhaps both. A mirrored compact holds pale peach powder and brush--she pauses to apply and retouch. Her steel grey eyes silently declare an air of polite guardedness.

She is resolved to remain in stasis for as long as possible--to gracefully ride the looming deluge of advancing years.