âAnd then a man of forty or so, with a French accent, asked, âHow do you achieve the presence of mind to initiate the writing of a poem?â And something cracked open in me, and I finally stopped hoarding and told them my most useful secret. The only secret that has helped me consistently over all the years that Iâve written. I said, âWell, Iâll tell you how. I ask a simple question. I ask myself: What was the very best moment of your day?â The wonder of it was, I told them that this one question could lift out from my life exactly what I will want to write a poem about. Something I hadnât known was important will leap out and hover there in front of me, saying I am â I am the best moment of the day.
I noticed two people were writing down what I was saying. Often, I went on, itâs a moment when youâre waiting for someone, or youâre driving somewhere, or maybe youâre just walking across a parking lot and admiring the oil stains and the dribbled tar patterns. One time it was when I was driving past a certain house that was screaming with sunlitness on its white clapboards, and then I plunged through tree shadows that splashed and splayed across the windshield. I thought, Ah, of course â Iâd forgotten. You, windshield shadows, you are the best moment of the day.â
â Nicholson Baker, The Anthologist












