After waking around eleven a.m. in his small flat in the city center of Florence, Italy, it's a quick shower before Mel’s out the door to the pasticceria around the corner for breakfast: a cappuccino and a budino di riso. He’ll then find a chair and take to pen and paper, recording his dreams and other musings.
Around two, he’ll wander to a local trattoria for lunch with one of his many good friends. Then it’s time to answer emails and tend to what he likes to call, “the less rewarding duties of a novelist.”
Just before seven, he’ll walk across the Ponte Vecchio to the Oltrano, for an apperitivo at Café Cabiria in Piazza Santo Spirito. If he’s still hungry he’ll have a plate of pasta somewhere along the way on this short walk to Piazza Piattellina located in the San Frediano neighborhood, to the Hemingway to be exact, where you’ll often find Mel quietly sitting in the corner drinking a glass of Chianti, or indulging in one of the cafe’s many famous desserts, and working away on a current novel.