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creativity/writing ability

Does drugs/alcohol enhance your creativity/writing ability?

Peter De Vries (Reuben, Reuben):

“Sometimes I write drunk and revise sober, and sometimes I write sober and revise drunk. But you have to have both elements in creation — the Apollonian and the Dionysian, or spontaneity and restraint, emotion and discipline.”

I have never taken drugs; the only drug in my system is caffeine. I usually drink alcohol with friends and I have never with purpose poured myself a glass of wine or grabbed a bottle of beer to enhance my creativity/writing ability. However, I have after being out all night dancing with friends found myself seeing the world with a different pair of glasses which have led me to write. But most often the writing is words of gibberish and gobbledygook, and doesn’t result anything. No matter how much I edit.

I stumbled upon this question on http://jodiellewellyn.wordpress.com/ and it made me think. Lately, I’ve been struggling with my inspiration and my writing progress has been slow. It’s not as if I’m working on something particular, I just find writing – both long and shorter stories – to be therapeutically. It’s my way of sorting out the chaos and end the war that sometimes goes on in my mind. I guess I’ve lived a peaceful life this summer because lately there has been no chaos and there has been no war.

Coffee is my drug of choice. Then again is coffee really a drug? Caffeine is a drug (and not a vitamin); it’s a stimulant drug. It’s bitter, white crystalline xanthine alkaloid. The chemical formula is C8H10N4O2. Then again as long as you don’t have any stomach problems or sleep issues coffee do contain several antioxidants which reduce the risk of cancer. My home runs on love, laughter and cups of strong coffee. Caffeine is non-negotiable. All you need is love and more coffee; it should be black as hell, strong as death, and sweet as love.

Dream, believe, achieve, repeat.

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The Husband’s Secret

by Liane Moriarty

Poor, poor Pandora. Zeus sends her off to marry Epimetheus, a not especially bright man she’s never even met, along with a mysterious covered jar. Nobody tells Pandora a word about the jar. Nobody tells her not to open the jar. Naturally, she opens the jar. What else has she got to do? How was she to know that all those dreadful ills would go whooshing out to plague mankind forever more, and that the only thing left in the jar would be hope? Why wasn’t there a warning label?

And then everyone’s like, oh Pandora. Where’s your willpower? You were told not to open that box, you snoopy girl, you typical woman with your insatiable curiosity, now look what you’ve gone and done. When for one thing it was a jar, not a box, and for another, how many times does she have to say it, nobody said a word about not opening it!

[…]

None of us ever know all the possible courses our lives could have, and maybe should have, taken. It’s probably just as well. Some secrets are meant to stay secret forever. Just ask Pandora.