Ernest Hemingway always said he liked to ‘write drunk, edit sober.’
When I was drinking I used to think this was great advice. It makes some sense: like any creative endeavour, writing requires you to feel relaxed, fearless and at ease with yourself. Booze seems to help with that. By removing your inhibitions, it allows you to tap into an authentic voice.
But is it really authentic? Or is it just as contrived as the stiff, derivative, nervy voice we might fall back on when sober?
I don’t think booze or drugs allow you to be yourself. At least I hope not. The things we do and say when we’re inebriated are almost always, boring, stupid or mean.
Back in the old days, I tried out Hemingway’s advice: I wrote book chapters and sometimes newspaper articles while slightly off my tits, late at night then re-visited them the next morning with a sober head on, taking out the shit bits. I convinced myself it was a caste-iron strategy. But it was bollocks. Even the stuff that somehow turned out half decent would have been so much better had I made the effort to be be myself and find my authentic voice without seeking help from stimulants.
I even applied the same flawed approach to other areas of my work: rocking up on TV and radio if not fully battered then certainly more intoxicated than Lord Reith would ever have advised. Towards the very end of my using, I am ashamed to admit that I would sometimes nip out to the loos during ad-breaks while hosting live radio shows to quickly chop out and snort a couple of lines. It was ridiculous, unprofessional and pathetic. Mind you, in the broadcasting game, it wasn’t particularly unusual. But that was all a long time ago.
I must admit that when I first got sober I did worry that I would lose a bit of my creative ability. I figured that the stranger and more compelling words and ideas my brain conjured might have only been unlocked by stimulants.
The only slither of truth in this was that fear can hold you back from being the truest, most honest and most unique version of yourself. We all hold back the deepest, darkest, most vulnerable and weird parts of our personalities because we are scared of being judged or mocked. Booze and drugs take away that fear. But then they make us act like tedious cunts.
I have found in sobriety that I have become progressively less concerned about what people think about me. I have been able to admit to the fears and flaws that I might previously have been ashamed of. I am increasingly more accepting of myself and unconcerned about what other people might think. All of which has really helped me express myself in a way that I think is more authentic, more appealing and more fulfilling.
Listen to me, talking like I’m Pablo fucking Picasso. All I do is write the odd article and knock out an absolutely inordinate number of podcasts - some of which people actually listen to. It’s not exactly great art, I know that. But I am lucky enough to make a living out of expressing myself, in words either written or spoken. That’s a massive fucking privilege that I try to never lose sight of. If I’m lucky enough to have the opportunity to creative stuff for a living, I might as well do it in a way that feels honest.
The idea of the ‘wildman’ artist who is constantly fighting his demons and causing chaos is utter bullshit. Wankers who get pissed up in the recording studio, throw tellies out of hotel windows or do drugs while they write are self-entitled dullards with no more imagination than the average rugger bugger pissing in a pint glass on a Friday night.
Hemingway was a macho prick and the likes of Keith Moon and Oliver Reed were dreary cliches. The real heroes have a more studious and humble approach to their work. I don’t recall Paul McCartney ever bragging about having coke blown up his arse by a flunky while he wrote Hey Jude. Prince was teetotal. So is Chuck D. These are people who are in touch with themselves, have too much imagination to waste their time getting twatted and would not piss their God given talent up the wall by doing so.
If you’re lucky enough to talk, write, paint, sing, play or perform for a living (and not have to do a proper job that gives you back pain and depression) you are truly blessed. Respect that blessing, stay humble and don’t believe the myth of the tortured artist. Find yourself, like yourself, be at ease with yourself.
I tell you who else was overrated: Hunter S Thompson. Fucking weirdo.
The Reset Podcast with Ex WHU Employee
In case you missed it, here is last week’s episode with Twitter phenomenon and anonymous football insider ‘Ex WHU Employee’ who told me about the addictive nature of social media and the pain of being trolled.
My New Podcast With Shaun Ryder
I absolutely loved making this new podcast series with my hero and old pal Shaun Ryder. It is an absolute thrill ride and fucking hilarious. I just ask the questions, Shaun does the rest. It’s a six episode series that you can subscribe to exclusively through Hubwave.net - the new podcast platform (where you can also find Club Reset, if you’re interested).
Some services, links and phone numbers to help you through the tough times
https://www.samaritans.org/ Tel 116 123
@calm 0800 58 58 58
@YoungMindsUK 0800 018 2138
@CharitySane 0300 304 7000
https://www.alcoholics-anonymous.org.uk/
https://cocaineanonymous.org.uk/
https://andysmanclub.co.uk/
https://www.nhs.uk/live-well/healthy-body/gambling-addiction/
Interesting subject for your new pod after that writing. Im sure thats not lost on you.
That Sam is a complex fucking dude me thinks ....