Writer’s block. I don’t know. Does it count if it’s a blog post? For godsakes, it’s a site about drinking. And America. Still, I’ve got nothing.
So I do what any good writer does when faced with this situation. I go to the kitchen and crack a beer. I didn’t say I was original.
And this got me thinking about the link between writers and drinking. Or writing and drinkers. No, it should be parallel – writing and drinking. Yes, the beer is helping a little.
First, I think we begin with this premise: writer’s block is basically fear. We may not see our audience, but we know they are there. Waiting to judge. Alcohol has always been a great way to quiet those nagging, critical voices in our heads. Don’t think so? How often have you danced at a party sober? Exactly.
Hemingway, Faulkner, Capote, Fitzgerald, Bukowski, Kerouac, Dorothy Parker are just the beginning of a long, sad list. Clearly, this is more than a coincidence. Is a casual link impossible to prove? Definitely. Is there some connection between the escape both provide, the drink and the stories they tell? Probably.
Or as Hemingway put it, “Modern life is often a mechanical oppression and liquor is the only mechanical relief.”
I’d argue “A Farewell to Arms” also does the trick.
Okay, so we’ve taken a dark turn here. And I’m not sure if I’ve made any progress. The good news is, I’ve reached my word count. And I leave on this note from Kingsley Amis, “The writer who writes his books on, rather than between, whiskey is a lousy writer.”
True. But he didn’t say anything about beer.