Unscripted
If you asked me eleven years ago why I moved to Los Angeles, I’d have told you, I have a script.
You would have likely believed me. I was working at the time for one of the power five talent agencies in Hollywood. Earning minimum wage but wearing a suit to work each day, me and my young colleagues knew how to talk like we were busier than we actually were, honing the trademarked trait of Hollywood manipulation.
I was writing that script, all right. The script was going to be my grand cathartic epic, a simple way to express my complex feelings toward life as I knew it. While I wasn’t finished, I pitched it to anyone who would listen.
While on hold with another assistant: “I’ve got this script to tell you about.”
At some party in the Hollywood Hills: “It’s Garden State meets Beautiful Girls.”
Out to lunch on Wilshire Boulevard (and I swear I used this exact description): “It’s a 360 degree introspection of the American Dream.”
No, it wasn’t ready, but it would be soon.
I would have finished it too, if my creative process wasn’t so self-destructive.
Somewhere in the progression of alcoholism and addiction, I duped myself into thinking that I do certain things better while drunk and high. Whether it be writing essays, making love or attending concerts, certain activities were constituted parts of a larger chemical experiment on my brain. I remember trying to convince a friend of mine what a better rugby player I was when high. “I’m not so sure of that,” he said.
In sobriety I’ve heard others describe their use in similar ways. It is a classic example of bait and switch. Our minds do something while high and we become convinced that being high is the only way to do it. I know that, while active in my addiction, I never saw the truth: the high was all I was after. It didn’t matter what I was doing.
I had to be in the right state of mind in order to write.
This meant a delicate balance of ingested substances. A toke to kill the shakes. A swig to still the mind. A snort to stir ideas. I used to think my drug and alcohol use was serving a higher creative purpose. What is evident to me now is that there was no purpose served other than my use.
And while the data that has led me to this conclusion is fuzzy, facts are facts.
In my nine months of writing and pitching the script in Hollywood, I wrote 54 pages.
With nine years sober, I wrote a 450 page novel in five months.
Still think alcohol unlocks an alcoholic’s creative juices? Try this on: in the nine months of writing my aborted script, I thought about it endlessly. I assumed the identity of character’s I was writing and called it research. I thought of the plot like an accountant obsesses to balance equations. In the maelstrom of my thoughts about the script, rarely if ever was anything written.
At one point, an afternoon I can clearly remember, I listened to Bob Dylan’s Black Diamond Bay on repeat for four hours as I crafted an animated dream sequence. I drank a bottle of wine at one point because my hand was too shaky to write anything legible. My sister called me that day. My nephew was born. I was an uncle for the first time.
When I spoke with her years later about that phone call, she said, “I didn’t know something was wrong. You just kept talking about your script.”
Nobody, except for my writers group and my wife, knew I was drafting a novel when I started.
Nine years into my new sober life, for four consecutive months, including Thanksgiving and Christmas morning, I woke up at 4:30 and wrote. I wrote until the story began to write itself. I experienced a creative sensation more fulfilling than any high I’ve ever endured: the characters did what they had to do, not what I wanted them to.
Writing a novel is something the drunk me would boast about being able to do, and something the sober me did without a mention.
There is a beautiful paradox about it all. By letting go of my need to control my wild drug use, I allowed for something uncontrollable and wild to take place, a creative surge, a powerful obsession with the imaginary. What I imagined could only be done on a lush diet of substances, was accomplished without a single mood-altering pint, pill, plant or powder.
And now, appreciating the irony of how wrong I was about the nature of creativity, I feel obligated to let other people know that the myth of the alcoholic writer is a bust. This craft, this writing business, does not require anything except persistent effort.
Perhaps alcoholics are more likely to become writers and writers are more likely to become alcoholics, as an English-teaching colleague of mine pointed out. I don’t doubt there is evidence for that. I’m only asserting that, in either case, you don’t need to drink to be creative.
And what’s more, the urge to drink and use, the urge to lose inhibitions and escape from self, can be supplanted with an expansive creative endeavor.
Addiction is a powerful engine that just needs new steering.
I developed some incredible survival skills while I was out there. I managed to make drinking and using a priority while my world fell apart. This sort of commitment—the mental effort required to captain a sinking ship—creates the potential for some surprisingly disciplined habits. The fortitude that kept me returning to the barrooms and bathrooms found a new center-point. For me, it was humility. It was understanding that there is a God and I am not it.
By taking the emphasis off of me, I was able to discover that I am so much more. Instead of worrying about all the things I could be doing, I began on a journey of just doing the next right thing. And that has made all the difference.
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Mark – interesting, thought provoking, profound – I see paradoxes everywhere….xxoo mod
I am only 11 days sober and I can relate to this so much. After drinking for 45 years I no longer hold this illusion but I played bait and switch for years! I can write better, I can publicly speak better, I can conduct meetings better with just a little pick me up. And it got to the point I lost all confidence without that pick me up. No, because I dropped this false perception awhile ago does not mean the addiction also went away.
Wow, well, first of all congratulations! We all have just today. I’m thrilled you are aboard for the journey.
And I love this. It’s amazing what we’re capable off when we put the bottle down.
As always, great writing and wonderful insights. Thanks for sharing your heart.
So you’re saying that I truly would have enjoyed and remembered that Pink Floyd concert without the influence of hallucinogenic fungus- Great story MDG, always enjoy your perspective and talent. Until then
Jeff
Haha, well, we always have our memories, even the mushroom clouded ones. 😂 thanks Jeff.
Very well said and I think a lot of people probably relate. I look back at the notebook of ideas I kept and can tell which ones were the chemical-induced variety because they all make me cringe and think, “How did I think that was good idea?” I think my one-act play based on the song Ballroom Blitz was at the top of the list.
Now THAT is a show I want to see.
So many moments when that thought, “how did I think this was a good idea?” Or even “How did I survive?” Its amazing what we can convince ourselves of isn’t it?
Thanks for speaking your truth, Joshua, I’m proud to becoming up on 3 months without pornography. Thank you for your inspiration.
Nice post, brother.
Excellent post Mark. This is so true. My Father was an extremely creative soul and always claimed his drinking helped the process. I saw first hand, that it definitely did not.
The question is, when do we get to read the novel? Exciting times.
Peace to you. ✌️👣
Well, Sam, once it finds a home I will be sure to let you know. How’s everything over at life after destruction going? I haven’t stopped by in a while but hope to once the holidays provide me some time.
I’m sure it will make a place, soon enough. Anticipation resides.
It is going well, thank you. Still penning my thoughts and setting them free. It truly is a liberating act.
I have also set myself a life goal. No matter how long it takes, I shall ink my own book. Maybe a few?
To hear you have wrote a novel is another source of inspiration.
Keep on keeping on Mark.
Peace to you. ✌️👣
That’s a worthy goal. Best of luck! I found it helped to write a little everyday. Even chapters I eventually trashed helped me write the chapters I didn’t.
Excuse me Mark I have only just seen this.
Thank you very much. Excellent advice.
I’ll definitely keep that in mind and probably act on it. Ha. Peace ✌️👣
This is fantastic, Mark. I used to do the same thing, drinking at long lunches while planning writing projects. This line struck me so completely, and it’s so true.
“There is a beautiful paradox about it all. By letting go of my need to control my wild drug use, I allowed for something uncontrollable and wild to take place, a creative surge, a powerful obsession with the imaginary.”
It’s been my experience that I can only reach this divine energy while completely sober. Who knew?
Right? I sure didn’t. I had to discover it by first going about it the wrong way. I’m doing things now that I’m convinced I could only do sober. And it’s something that so many believe alcohol helps. Glad to share that truth with you!