Writing When Drunk!

Word Count?

Sure. Why not? Here is the printed out final of my first draft. Second draft involves me, pens, and my spidery, illegible handwriting. I am so old-fashioned sometimes.


Writing Advice: Indecent Amounts of Mind-Altering Chemicals And YOU

I’ve met many writers who swear that any writer worth their salt should drink as much as possible. All of these writers had something in common:

They never wrote anything.

Instead it was all about being a terribly romantic, self-destructive poet who is so very misunderstood and who bravely fights the losing battle against the world and all its “sheeple.”* These people don’t drink with you. They drink AT you.

Don’t be that person.

Side note: If someone you know uses the word “sheeple” in any context outside of heavy irony, I have an exercise for you. Every time they use that word, punch a staple into their cheek. This isn’t a lesson about learning anything. This is because they deserve to get staples in the face for actually using the word “sheeple”.

Mind you, this is not an exhortation for abstinence at all. Although I don’t do much as far as drinking or anything else, it’s because I am boring rather than from taking any kind of moral stance. Drinking (and other things of varying legality) can indeed be fun!

But it makes one a sh*tty writer.

Remember, Stephen King wrote “The Tommyknockers” when he was high. He doesn’t even remember writing it. I wish I didn’t remember reading it.

At best, a very talented author might get a few good golden years, but then they coast on their previous work and turn in polished turds smeared on paper to their publishers.

Speaking of drunks and turds, do you enjoy Charles Bukowski? If you do, I put this to you: you enjoy him because you have never had to smell him. How come he got to live to seventy-three and John Keats died at age twenty-five? Keats was FAR better, at the very least because of his foppish clothes. I bet he smelled like lavender and not at all like a hobo jungle.

 “No one wants to read a novel by a pot head. Five hundred pages on how if you put a ball cap on a dog’s head it looks like it can drive a truck.” – Dave Attell.