I've known a lot of writers over my life, and I've met hundreds. After all, I worked for a newspaper for nearly a decade and a half, and I worked in a bookstore for over half a decade before that, and I was a literary studies major as an undergrad. Most my adult life I've been surrounded by people who make a living stringing words together. I've even had a paid gig or two in my day. There are basically two kinds of writers; those who can get the job done no matter what tools they have at hand even if this means dictating a story over a satellite phone, or those who need everything to come together just right to write. This second group can't get shit done if their favorite coffee mug is dirty or it's too late in the day or because the gibbous moon is waning. These sorts spend all their time allowing external influences to dictate when their ass actually gets in the chair. They spend more time trying out new software packages to find the perfect word processor. They can't write if they are uninspired or if their muse is uncooperative. Every writer I've met imagines themselves as the first sort, but most are the second.