Today I'm going to talk about wine. Or should I say the lack of it. For some reason I have always been able to write more effectively, vibrantly even, after a couple of glasses of red wine; my characters start to do things that are, well, out of character. This is great because it enables me to decide whether the plot needs to go in another direction, or if the character has a devious side that even I didn't know about. The problem is that I'm on medication the moment, in the form strange plaster-like things that deliver a powerful drug that finds its way to my spine without directions. Under these circumstances, alcohol is banned, and I wouldn't dream of breaking the rules. (Oh, well maybe I have the odd dream on the subject, but that's another story.) I've been wondering lately whether it might be possible to have alcohol patches in the future - the kind that give you a psychological lift without the headache, so to speak, which could even lead to the offer of a three book deal...(just joking.) Some of my writer friends have admitted to getting inspiration from the odd gin and tonic, as if their imaginations are heightened by the experience, their writers' block a thing of the past...
When my father was in hospital many years ago, after a serious operation which left him unable to eat or speak, the nurses asked if we could think of anything that might cheer him up.
'Well,' I said, 'he obviously hates not being able to work, and I' sure he'll be missing his regular pint.'
The following day when I arrived at visiting time, the senior nurse was beaming. 'We've given your dad half a pint of Guinness, straight through the tube in his arm, she said triumphantly. 'It certainly seems to have done the trick.' She was right, it did.
.
Looking back, this genuine act of kindness must have broken every rule in the hospital manual and a few more besides. And it still makes me feel humble, even after all these years, to think of how a simple gesture caused so much pleasure. So, cheers, Dad, wherever you are. Glass of lucozade anyone??
When my father was in hospital many years ago, after a serious operation which left him unable to eat or speak, the nurses asked if we could think of anything that might cheer him up.
'Well,' I said, 'he obviously hates not being able to work, and I' sure he'll be missing his regular pint.'
The following day when I arrived at visiting time, the senior nurse was beaming. 'We've given your dad half a pint of Guinness, straight through the tube in his arm, she said triumphantly. 'It certainly seems to have done the trick.' She was right, it did.
.
Looking back, this genuine act of kindness must have broken every rule in the hospital manual and a few more besides. And it still makes me feel humble, even after all these years, to think of how a simple gesture caused so much pleasure. So, cheers, Dad, wherever you are. Glass of lucozade anyone??
3 comments:
Or perhaps you could test drive chocolate patches - all the pleasure without gaining any weight - ha ha!
Or stick-on orgasmatrons,
(lol)
No that sounds more like it, GH!!!!
Post a Comment