Although it becomes more difficult with each top up, writing with a glass or four of read wine as a companion has a lot going for it. Well, except for finding the right keys on the keyboard that is. Disregarding this minor flaw in the plan and putting my faith in my ever reliable spellchecker, it is amazing what can develop from the esters of a good red. Ideas flow, if not the fingers.
When I read some passages in my books, I usually recognise the ‘red wine’ parts. Normally they are free, idea driven and often quite silly. But then again, what would the world be without a little silliness? It is easy as a writer to become tense and rule driven. Remembering everything that you read in Steven King’s writer’s bible, ‘On Writing’ about what writing should look like. To be perfectly frank, I really believe I do better when I forget about dear Steven and just clack away. There are the sensible sober hours for the brutal editing.
Some of my best characters have been born from the sediment of a good bottle of red and lived on to become some of my all time favourites. I recall when I was writing February The Fifth that I needed a name for an Inspector Poirot type of manservant. Now the name Adiddle would not have come in any sober moment but with the help of a little fermented fun, he just came to life and added something to the story. Of course there have been some duds but my sober editing times killed them off. Never to be heard of again. Sorry.
So what’s the point of all this? Well, nothing really except I quite enjoy writing with a glass of French Beaujolais, Spanish Rioja, Aussie rotten red, or a tempting Italian Chianti. Each to their own.