This form of deja vu has been occurring a whole helluva lot lately. I used to drink a lot. Every day, all day. I'd have these grandiose drunk writing ideas, but way to lazy to write them down at the time.

They've been popping up lately in the stories I write. Ideas I thought of months ago, years ago. Long forgotten about, yet these crazy tidbits seem to subconciously sneak there way into my writing hand.

Has anyone else had this experience? Please share.

On a sidenote: Does anyone have the name(s) of any Lesbian Literary Magazines? I have a story I'd like to submit that would fit thier criteria, most likely.

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Am I the only one who has had this thingie? Holy shit, I've invented a new disease.

Hey, I think you've given us all hope. Now I can drink with the comfort of knowing that any ideas I have will resurface a few years from now.

And so, back to my ASDA claret (only £2.52 a bottle!)

with a can of Pedigree chaser!



er, that's Pedigree Bitter, not Pedigree Chum.

Colin M

Silver,

You sound like this bothers you. Should it?

Cath

No, I've never suffered from Silverelli's disease.

It's probably the case that all the factors and influences that create your ideas were working away and that in your alcoholic state your barriers were down, your reserve had fallen away and that's why the ideas bubbled to the surface.

But because you were pissed, they disappeared just as quickly - possibly suppressed by the booze, or even the issues that caused you to drink a lot - and are only now coming back into your consciousness.

It's an age-old thing to try and alter your states so that you can create - the hard part is being in control.

Often when we are pissed our guard comes down and we sing, dance, say and think things we wouldn't otherwise. But it also leaves us open to say or think stupid things - which we then compound by acting on.

You might find that if you had written down all those ideas when you were drunk, some would have been great and others dire. Now they're coming back, you are able to apply sober judgement and just use the good stuff.

Well, that's what I think. I could be wrong. And there are probably a whole bunch of psychological or spiritual theories. And of course you could have mind-melded with your barman and are now ripping off all his ideas?

Beadle

My bartender had no sense of humor.
I like your take on it, Beadle.
Let's call it
Jungian Alcohol Syndrome: recalling repressed alcoholic thoughts through subconscious creative writing.

Skippoo,
With all good things, there comes the bad. I'm afraid of what else I might find if I keep meddling with the dead alcoholic thoughts.

Adam, time to get a new bartender. Next time you're out West, I recommend Julio at Tommy's in SF:
http://www.tommystequila.com

You two are made for one another.

Hasta luego,

Adele.

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http://www.journalism.sfsu.edu/flux/eatBeat/tommys.html
Need I say more...

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PS I met big J in London. I'm ashamed to say I've never been to SF :(

You couldn't have done anything real bad during those lost, drunken hours Silverllious - you live in America and they're ALWAYS watching you.

How else would they know where Elvis is?

Bomshanka

Beadle, is Elvis still partying with his buddy Osama in that cave in Tora Bora? And how is the weather in Cheltenham today

Adele.

Silver,

That's really honest of you to admit that a bout being scared of what else you might find. I think you shouldn't be scared of those ideas, though. They're coming up for a reason so don't suppress them! Work with ones you want to work with. I've got a strong feeling you'll be really rewarded in the end - even if there's some tough bits along the way.

I guess it's a bit like doing any kind of detox. All the crap has to come out of your system and for a while you might feel worse, but in the end it's worth it.

I remember when you posted that thread about your new sobriety and beind scared of not being able to write sober. You seem to be doing pretty fucking well to me - respect is due!!

Cath

p.s. Did you ever read Augusten Burrough's Dry? If not, you so have to! It's the best book I read last year.

Elvis works in a fish mongers in Dundee. C'mon 'dele, everyone knows that.

Cheltenham? I live in Mauritius!

Beadle, and I thought Kirsty McCall (sp?) was bumped off because she knew too much...

And living 'out in the sticks' means Mauritius? Lucky you! Just think of all your compatriots shivering back home in snowy Blighty whilst you're sipping your cocktails (or special brew) on the beach.

Adam, I wish you happy Presidents' Day, whatever that means. How do you colonials celebrate this occasion?

Adele.

Adele

The Special Brew ran out on this island yonks ago. I now drink Bacardi Breezers down the park with the rest of the teenagers.

But of course, you don't get away that lightly - why Cheltenham? Have you been stalking me again?

Beadle

Beadle, don't be a tease Don't you know Georgina Couldn't Hack Quakers?

Oh, of course. House arrest, Osama Bed Linen and all that. I was only a member of the Adam and the Ants fan club for a year, honest. It doesn't make me an enemy of the state.

Well I was a member of the Osmonds' fan club for at least two years, so am cleary en route to Belmarsh , although I've been told that I would look good in Gauntanamo orange...



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Btw, if you could possibly stop blocking my emails I would really appreciate that - you're playing havoc with my social life!