"Write drunk; edit sober."
I'd be surprised if you haven't heard this Hemingway quote before, especially if you're a writer. Maybe it's a self-fulfilling prophecy that writers are such notorious boozehounds. "The old guard pulled it off, so why shouldn't we be able to do the same?" might be the subversive psychology behind it. Poe had his narcotics, Hemingway and Cheever had booze, so on and so forth. Perhaps the use of substance simply comes with the territory of having the artist's ego, a kind of "look what I did" mentality when a work is finished (whether that be painting or writing or anything of a creative nature). I'll be the first to admit it; I like hearing that people enjoy what I write. The essence is pure "me" on the page and the validation of that being worth something to someone is gratifying for sure.
For most of the writing I've done since starting a strange and unfinished novel called "Lex Talionis" during my undergraduate days, it hasn't been uncommon for me to have an ashtray and an adult beverage next to my laptop. The smoking helped force me to stop and re-read what I'd written and the booze...well, I like to think it helped me move past whatever reservations I may have had about certain passages. I have written many pages sober for sure, but when first putting ideas on paper, I've found that being a little mentally loosey-goosey has evoked some interesting out-of-the-box ideas, most of which have become integral to the new pieces.
This is obviously not a healthy way of turning a hobby into something more, but really...if you're gonna drink, isn't it better to be productive while you do it? Sure you'll find pages in dire need of editing the next day, but at least you'll have pages to edit. There's nothing more frustrating than sitting in front of the empty white space and finding you have NOTHING to say. The page isn't going to fill itself and sometimes, being a little inebriated can unblock those self-doubts a bit. It's like putting on your beer-goggles at the bar except you can delete the bad decisions you made on the page. Deleting the bad decisions you made the night before in the bar is a little more difficult.
There will inevitably be that intoxicated moment where you say "Damn, this is great!" only to wake up the next morning to re-read it and say "Holy crap, this is terrible." But again, at least you'll have something to read, some jump-off point to work from. Thirty pages of crap is still workable; thirty pages of blank requires so much more effort to change.
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