Hmm. It’s true, though when my mind’s in a really dark place, my writing isn’t really “edgy.” It’s more like a pathetic little bathtub filled with quicksand, where you can almost imagine me wallowing around, trying to pretend my feet don’t touch the bottom. :) I get about two paragraphs in, start muttering, “Oh, FFS…” and stop. Take a walk, take a nap, take two aspirin and call my Muse in the morning.

I can’t write drunk, either. I suspect those writers who are notorious for drugs and drink were battling other demons — and trying to silence them long enough to write, not the other way around as so many young writers imagine. I don’t like it when my Muse drinks and falls asleep on me. It’s just boring.

Now that I’ve retired, I’m starting to think that my best writing time is in the morning after a good night’s sleep — which is, frankly, a surprise to me, since mornings have so long been filled with cursing the alarm clock, breakfast, getting the kids ready for school, getting me ready for work, and then commuting to the office. Me, write in the MORNING? This does not compute! But there we have it — perhaps the only real epiphany of 2020, and it comes on the last day.

Colored pencils and paintbrushes — how on earth can you not have that outlet, Jill? It’s not as if I have a lot of talent at drawing and painting! But it’s still fun. Oh, try it, Jill — just grab paper and pencil and sketch something silly.