“Write drunk, edit sober.” – said by no one. Probably an alcoholic writer rationalizing their consumption. Apocryphal.
Though there were several factors contributing to the alcoholism of my twenties, “write drunk, edit sober” was certainly one of them.
The idea behind the advice is to shut off your critical voice. The voice in our head that worries whether we laugh weird, that hesitates conversationally for fear of saying something awkward, is the same voice that says “that’s a stupid idea” before it reaches the page.
The same alcohol that makes us less inhibited socially will silence our inner critic. That’s the theory.
In practice, it’s a lot like the next morning any other time you get drunk. You wake, pound water and an accompanying Ibuprofen or two, and remember what you did last night. Revisiting the paragraphs and scenes from the night before, you realize “this is shit.”
You expected to sift for gold in the muck, and instead you’re presented with a turd. You’re not sure it’s polishable.
That’s been my experience. However, there’s also a danger if it works for you. Congratulations, you now doubt whether you can write sober. You start drinking before every writing session. And suddenly you have an alcohol problem. Did you know it’s possible to get pancreatitis in your 20s?
Whether it’s being afraid to socialize without “liquid courage” or hating your ideas at conception, the problem is the same: your confidence. And whatever issue you’re not addressing with alcohol, it will still be there when you get sober. Unaddressed and festering.
Instead, some words of advice for the chronically self-critical that have a 0 percent chance of ruining your life:
You have a confidence issue. You should address that. If I gave advice about being kinder to yourself, we’d veer into a different article that’s less specific to writing. Though you should. Instead, this advice is tailored to the self-doubt that makes “write drunk, edit sober” tempting.
1.) Your Favorite Author Hated Their First Drafts
I know this because they were/are artists, and before an artist lets their creation see the light of day, they have to be content with it themselves. I also know this because no one wrote their first and final draft at the same time.
Perhaps the greatest advice I’ve ever received as a writer (in that I wrote more, more often) is: write the shitty first draft. Allow it to be shitty. Be okay with it being shitty. You can’t polish what isn’t there. You can’t reimagine a character without their initial “sketch”. You can’t sculpt invisible clay.
Stop needing genius to pour from your pen. It almost certainly won’t. Similarly…
2. Put Down the Mental “Nope” Button
That idea wasn’t as bad as you thought it was. It’s a seed; let it grow before you prune.
Let yourself cook.
3. Think of Your Least-Favorite Popular Work
You hate their writing, their characters are caricatures, it’s all so predictable—and has an immense fandom.
You could write at that caliber in your sleep.
So do it.
If this final bit of advice inspires realization, you might be the type of writer who could benefit from my post about rediscovering the fun of writing.
Instead of logic-ing yourself into alcohol dependence, logic yourself away from self-doubt.
Your desire to create quality will in no way be aided by being blitzed. It’s less the case that alcohol makes you more whitty, and more the case that you always were and the alcohol makes you doubt that less… with the potential to make you less so.
Your thoughts and ideas deserve to breathe, and always did.