- The 20 Impossible 60s–70s Music Quiz for Hardcore Fans - November 5, 2025
- 14 Songs That Were Almost Never Released – And Changed Everything - November 5, 2025
- 20 Epic Coming-of-Age Books You Wish You Read Sooner - November 5, 2025
Honoré de Balzac – The Coffee-Fueled Writing Machine

Picture this: It’s 2 AM in 19th-century Paris, and a man in a white monk’s hood is gulping down his fifteenth cup of coffee. This wasn’t some bizarre religious ceremony – it was just another night in the life of Honoré de Balzac, the French literary giant who turned caffeine addiction into an art form. Clothed in the white hood of a Dominican monk, and equipped with ink, quills and an endless supply of coffee, Balzac began his writing day at 2am, leaving his desk only to attend to his personalised Limoges cafetière, which kept his thick Turkish coffee warm throughout his long nights of writing.
The legendary numbers are staggering. Legend has it he could drink up to 50 cups a day, stimulating himself into a frenzy of creativity. While The “50 cups a day” number, however, hasn’t ever really been corroborated. Writer Freddie Moore thoroughly investigated the claim in 2014 and found that it was something of an internet legend, often repeated, but somehow evading an actual source. However, what’s certain is that it has been estimated that in his life he drank 50,000 cups of it.
Balzac didn’t just drink any coffee – he developed what he called a “terrible and cruel” method. No trifling with milky café au lait for Balzac – he moistened the finest grind with the smallest amount of water and drank it down on an empty stomach. His special blend consisted of three kinds of beans: Bourbon, procured in what is now rue de la Chaussée-d’Antin; Martinique, found on rue des Haudriettes; and Moka from Yemen, bought on the rue de l’Université. This wasn’t just fuel – it was his creative rocket fuel that powered him through writing sessions that lasted up to 18 hours.
Maya Angelou – The Hotel Room Hermit

If Maya Angelou had been alive today, she probably would have been the queen of minimalism before it was cool. The celebrated author of “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings” had a ritual so specific it bordered on the obsessive. I have kept a hotel room in every town I’ve ever lived in. I rent a hotel room for a few months, leave my home at six, and try to be at work by six-thirty. But these weren’t just any hotel rooms – they were stripped down to the bare essentials.
She deliberately chose fairly spartan surroundings, small rooms with nothing more than a bed and perhaps a basin, and with the hotel art works on the walls removed because, as she put it, “We need much less than we think we need.” Her toolkit was equally minimal but carefully chosen: The only things she brought with her from home were a bottle of sherry for occasional nips (usually at elevenses but sometimes earlier depending on mood, a habit she dropped later in life), a deck of cards, a copy of the King James Bible, and a dictionary, sometimes a Thesaurus and crossword puzzles.
The writing process itself was beautifully horizontal. To write, I lie across the bed, so that this elbow is absolutely encrusted at the end, just so rough with callouses. I never allow the hotel people to change the bed, because I never sleep there. I stay until twelve-thirty or one-thirty in the afternoon, and then I go home and try to breathe; I look at the work around five; I have an orderly dinner—proper, quiet, lovely dinner; and then I go back to work the next morning.
Victor Hugo – The Naked Truth About Writing

When it comes to extreme measures for productivity, Victor Hugo takes the cake – or rather, takes off his clothes. The author of “Les Misérables” and “The Hunchback of Notre-Dame” had perhaps the most eyebrow-raising writing ritual in literary history. During the writing of “The Hunchback of Notre-Dame,” Hugo’s routine was to lock himself in a room, often with a large wooden plank across the door to prevent anyone from entering. He would remove all his clothes and give them to his assistant who would then be instructed to hide the clothing. With his clothes out of reach and nothing to wear but a large shawl, Hugo would settle down to write in solitude.
The backstory makes this ritual even more fascinating. Victor Hugo wasn’t into nudism but he wrote The Hunchback of Notre Dame half-naked. In the summer of 1829, the French author promised his publisher to deliver a novel within a year. But Hugo got distracted by gourmet dinners, poetry gatherings, and piano sessions. When the publisher came demanding his manuscript, Hugo had written nothing and was given just six months to deliver.
His solution was brilliant in its simplicity. He asked his assistant to lock all of his clothes away in a large chest, except for a large cape. Without his elegant outfits, Hugo could no longer leave his flat. However, the truth is slightly less scandalous than the legend suggests. Yes, there is some truth to the story that Hugo locked himself in a room, naked, with nothing but pen and paper to distract him. However, he was not naked. He just didn’t have access to his formal (going out) clothes and chose to (only?) wear a large shawl.
Friedrich Schiller – The Rotten Apple Theory

If you think coffee addiction is strange, wait until you hear about Friedrich Schiller’s olfactory inspiration technique. The German playwright and poet behind “The Robbers” and “William Tell” had a secret weapon that would make most people gag: rotting apples. Schiller kept a drawer full of decomposing fruit in his desk, believing that the putrid smell somehow jumpstarted his creative process.
This wasn’t just a one-time experiment or a quirky phase. Schiller maintained his collection of rotting apples throughout his writing career, convinced that the nauseating aroma was essential to his creative flow. The smell was so overwhelming that visitors to his study would often complain about the stench, but Schiller refused to part with his aromatic muses.
While it sounds completely bizarre, there might be some method to his madness. Strong odors can trigger vivid memories and emotional responses, potentially unlocking creative pathways in the brain. For Schiller, the smell of decay might have represented the themes of mortality and human suffering that permeated much of his work. Whether it was psychological or physiological, this unusual ritual seemed to work – Schiller produced some of Germany’s most enduring dramatic works while surrounded by his collection of rotting fruit.
Truman Capote – The Horizontal Writer

Long before ergonomic desks and standing workstations became trendy, Truman Capote had already figured out his perfect writing position: completely flat on his back. The author of “In Cold Blood” and “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” famously declared himself a “completely horizontal author,” refusing to write in any other position.
Capote’s horizontal habit wasn’t just about comfort – it was a deeply ingrained ritual. He would lie on his bed or couch, surrounded by papers, pencils, and cigarettes, crafting his elegant prose while staring at the ceiling. This position allowed him to enter a dream-like state where his imagination could flow freely without the constraints of sitting upright at a desk.
The ritual extended beyond just lying down. Capote was superstitious about numbers and wouldn’t begin or end his writing on any page that wasn’t divisible by certain lucky numbers. He also refused to have more than three cigarette butts in his ashtray at any time, believing it would bring bad luck. This combination of physical positioning and numerical obsession created a unique writing environment that helped him produce some of America’s most celebrated literary works.
Edith Sitwell – Death as Inspiration

Most writers seek inspiration in life’s beauty, but Edith Sitwell found hers in death’s embrace. The British poet had one of the most macabre writing rituals in literary history: she would sometimes lie in an open coffin before writing, believing it helped her contemplate mortality and deepen her poetic insight.
Sitwell’s coffin wasn’t just a prop – it was a serious meditation tool. She believed that by literally placing herself in death’s position, she could tap into profound truths about human existence that would otherwise remain hidden. This ritual helped her write poetry that was both haunting and beautiful, exploring themes of death, decay, and rebirth with unusual depth and sensitivity.
The coffin ritual was part of Sitwell’s broader fascination with the gothic and supernatural. She decorated her home with medieval artifacts, wore elaborate jewelry, and surrounded herself with symbols of death and mysticism. While her contemporaries might have found her habits disturbing, Sitwell’s willingness to embrace mortality head-on resulted in poetry that was both innovative and emotionally powerful.
Dan Brown – Upside-Down Inspiration

When writer’s block struck, Dan Brown didn’t reach for coffee or take a walk – he literally flipped his world upside down. The bestselling author of “The Da Vinci Code” and the Robert Langdon series used inversion therapy, hanging upside down from gravity boots, to clear his mind and spark new ideas.
Brown’s anti-gravity ritual wasn’t just about the physical sensation. He believed that inverting his body would also invert his thinking, allowing him to see problems from entirely new perspectives. The rush of blood to his head, combined with the unusual sensation of being upside down, seemed to unlock creative pathways that remained closed when he was right-side up.
This ritual fit perfectly with Brown’s methodical approach to writing. He maintained strict schedules, took regular breaks every hour, and used various physical exercises to maintain his mental sharpness. The inversion therapy was just one tool in his arsenal of techniques designed to optimize his creative output. Whether it was the physical effects of hanging upside down or simply the psychological impact of doing something so unusual, Brown’s gravity-defying ritual helped him overcome creative obstacles and produce page-turning thrillers that captivated millions of readers worldwide.
Agatha Christie – Bathtub Mysteries

derivative work: F l a n k e r, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=4841991)
The Queen of Crime had a surprisingly relaxing approach to plotting murder. Agatha Christie, creator of Hercule Poirot and Miss Marple, did her best creative thinking while soaking in a hot bath, often while munching on apples. This aquatic brainstorming session was where some of literature’s most ingenious murder mysteries were born.
Christie’s bathtub ritual wasn’t just about relaxation – it was a strategic creative process. The warm water helped her muscles relax while her mind remained sharp and focused. She would often spend hours in the tub, working through plot complications and character motivations. The apples served as both snacks and thinking tools, giving her something to munch on while she pondered the perfect way to commit fictional murder.
What made Christie’s bath-time brainstorming so effective was the combination of physical comfort and mental stimulation. The warm water created a cocoon-like environment where she could think without distractions, while the act of eating apples provided a rhythmic, meditative quality that helped her mind wander through plot possibilities. Many of her most famous mysteries, including some of the most cleverly constructed “locked room” puzzles in detective fiction, were first conceived during these lengthy bathroom sessions.
James Joyce – Crayon Chronicles

derivative work: RedAppleJack (talk)
derivative work: Missionary (talk), Public domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=13928444)
Poor eyesight turned James Joyce into one of literature’s most unconventional writers in terms of his physical writing process. The author of “Ulysses” and “Finnegans Wake” wrote his groundbreaking modernist masterpieces using crayons on cardboard, often while lying on his stomach like a child doing homework.
Joyce’s crayon method wasn’t just about accommodating his vision problems – it became an integral part of his creative process. The large, colorful letters he created with crayons gave his work a visual dimension that traditional pen and ink couldn’t provide. He could see his words more clearly, and the physical act of writing with crayons seemed to unlock a more playful, experimental approach to language.
The cardboard surface provided a texture that was different from smooth paper, and Joyce seemed to enjoy the resistance it offered. Writing while lying on his stomach put him in a completely different relationship with his work, almost like he was painting or drawing rather than writing. This unusual combination of materials and position may have contributed to Joyce’s revolutionary approach to narrative structure and language, helping him create some of the most challenging and innovative literature of the 20th century.
Gertrude Stein – Cow Contemplation

While most writers find inspiration in books, art, or human interaction, Gertrude Stein discovered her creative muse in the most unexpected place: staring at cows. The American expatriate writer, known for her experimental prose and the famous line “Rose is a rose is a rose,” would take long drives through the French countryside specifically to observe cattle.
Stein’s cow-watching ritual wasn’t just pastoral relaxation – it was a serious creative exercise. She believed that cows possessed a kind of meditative presence that helped clear her mind and focus her thoughts. The rhythmic movements of grazing cattle, their patient demeanor, and their connection to the earth seemed to inspire her approach to language and repetition.
The practice of watching cows aligned perfectly with Stein’s experimental writing style. Just as cows moved slowly and deliberately through their daily routines, Stein developed a writing technique that emphasized repetition, gradual variation, and careful attention to the rhythm of language. Her cow-inspired meditation sessions helped her develop the unique voice that made her one of the most influential writers of the modernist movement, proving that inspiration can come from the most unexpected sources.
Charles Dickens – The Compass Writer

Charles Dickens turned his writing space into a kind of feng shui laboratory, believing that the arrangement of furniture and his physical orientation could dramatically affect his creative output. The author of “Oliver Twist” and “Great Expectations” had to arrange all his furniture in precisely the right positions before he could write a single word, and he always faced due north while working.
Dickens’ directional obsession wasn’t just superstition – he believed that facing north aligned him with some kind of creative energy flow. He would use a compass to ensure his desk was positioned correctly, and if he was writing away from home, he would spend considerable time figuring out the proper orientation. This ritual was so important to him that he would rearrange hotel rooms to accommodate his directional needs.
The furniture arrangement ritual extended beyond just his writing desk. Dickens believed that every object in his workspace had to be in perfect harmony for his creativity to flow freely. He would spend hours adjusting chairs, moving books, and repositioning decorative objects until everything felt exactly right. This meticulous attention to his physical environment seemed to create a mental state conducive to the rich, detailed storytelling that made him one of the most beloved authors in English literature.
Franz Kafka – The Midnight Scribbler

While most people were sleeping, Franz Kafka was just getting started. The Czech writer behind “The Metamorphosis” and “The Trial” was a devoted night owl who believed that his best writing could only happen in the deep hours of darkness. He would work his day job as an insurance officer, then begin his real work at 11 PM, often writing until dawn.
Kafka’s nocturnal ritual wasn’t just about finding quiet time – he believed that night brought a different quality of consciousness that was essential to his writing. The darkness seemed to unlock the surreal, nightmarish qualities that made his fiction so distinctive. He described his night writing sessions as entering a dream-like state where the boundaries between reality and imagination dissolved.
The physical demands of this schedule were enormous. Kafka would often survive on just a few hours of sleep, fueled by coffee and the creative energy that seemed to flow most freely in the small hours of the morning. His dedication to this nocturnal routine was so complete that he would sometimes write for eight or nine hours straight, producing the strange, haunting stories that would later be recognized as masterpieces of modern literature.
Jack Kerouac – Candlelight and Chanting

Jack Kerouac transformed his writing sessions into spiritual rituals, combining Buddhist chanting with candlelight to create the perfect atmosphere for his stream-of-consciousness prose. The author of “On the Road” believed that writing was a form of meditation, and he developed elaborate rituals to enter the proper mental state for his spontaneous prose method.
Kerouac’s candlelight sessions weren’t just about mood lighting – he believed that the flickering flames helped him enter a trance-like state where his conscious mind would step aside and let his subconscious flow freely onto the page. The Buddhist chanting served a similar purpose, creating a rhythmic foundation that helped him maintain the momentum of his famous “spontaneous prose” technique.
The ritual extended to his physical writing process as well. Kerouac famously typed “On the Road” on a continuous scroll of paper, allowing him to write without the interruption of changing pages. Combined with his candlelight and chanting ritual, this created a writing experience that was more like a spiritual practice than traditional composition. The result was a revolutionary approach to prose that captured the energy and spontaneity of the Beat generation.
Isabel Allende – The Calendar Mystic

Isabel Allende has turned the calendar into a creative compass, beginning every new novel on the same date: January 8th. The Chilean-American author of “The House of the Spirits” considers this date to be spiritually significant and refuses to start any major writing project on any other day of the year.
Allende’s January 8th ritual isn’t just superstition – it’s become a deeply meaningful creative practice that helps her transition from one project to the next. The date marks a kind of literary new year for her, a time when she can leave behind the previous book and open herself to new stories and characters. This annual ritual has become so important to her creative process that she plans her entire writing schedule around it.
The power of this date-based ritual lies in its ability to create a sense of anticipation and preparation. Allende spends the weeks leading up to January 8th thinking about her next project, allowing ideas to percolate and develop. When the sacred date arrives, she’s mentally and emotionally prepared to dive into new creative territory. This ritual has helped her maintain a remarkably consistent and productive writing career spanning decades.
Marcel Proust – The Cork-Lined Cave

Marcel Proust created the ultimate writer’s sanctuary: a bedroom lined with cork that blocked out all sound and much of the light from the outside world. The author of “In Search of Lost Time” wrote his monumental work from his bed, surrounded by manuscripts, notebooks, and the peculiar smell of fumigation powders he used to combat his asthma.
Proust’s cork-lined room wasn’t just about blocking noise – it was about creating a completely controlled environment where his hypersensitive mind could function without interference. The cork absorbed not only sound but also seemed to absorb the chaos of the outside world, leaving him in a cocoon-like space where he could focus entirely on his internal landscape and memories.
The ritual of writing in bed became central to Proust’s creative process. He would prop himself up with pillows, surround himself with papers and pens, and work for hours in his cork-lined sanctuary. This unusual setup allowed him to blur the boundaries between waking and sleeping, consciousness and dreams

Besides founding Festivaltopia, Luca is the co founder of trib, an art and fashion collectiv you find on several regional events and online. Also he is part of the management board at HORiZONTE, a group travel provider in Germany.

