Each week, we post short interviews with interesting people about their thoughts and feelings on women and drinking. There is such a wide array of perspectives about this topic, and we are excited to gain insight into as many as possible and to share them with you.
As the former publisher of Writer’s Digest, Jane Friedman is an industry authority on all forms of publishing. She has spoken at more than 200 writing events since 2001, and is known within the publishing industry as an innovator, cited by sources such as Publishers Weekly, GalleyCat, PBS online, and Mr. Media. She has been a speaker at BookExpo America, an adviser to Digital Book World, and recently served as a panelist for the National Endowment for the Arts, to review 2011 grants in literature. Jane currently serves as a visiting professor of e-media at the University of Cincinnati, and is a contributing editor to Writer’s Digest. Since 2008, she’s offered advice for writers at her award-winning blog, There Are No Rules.
Drinking Diaries: How old were you when you had your first drink and what was it?
Jane Friedman: It’s all my mother’s fault. She gave me sips of her Pabst Blue Ribbon throughout my childhood, starting when I was a toddler. I found the drink totally repulsive but deliciously naughty. After PBR, I avoided beer entirely until I came to realize in 2008 that not all beers taste like PBR. Thank God.
How does your family treat drinking?
I am the only one who treats it as a joyful diversion. No one else is interested except a sister who enjoys wine.
How do you approach alcohol in your every day life?
Most of my drinking is done at home, alone, where I’m least likely to embarrass myself. (Of course, I also have wifi at home, so there’s still potential to do something stupid.)
Alcohol is a reliable creative stimulant, which can segue into Insufferable Maudlin Dopeishness if not careful. And—of course, like others—I find it a useful social lubricant.
I recently met someone who knew me only from my online persona. When I confessed that I wasn’t interested in staying out late drinking, he expressed surprise. “I thought you were a total party girl.”
Not really. I’m an introvert who also drinks. Isn’t that the definition of most awkward writers?![]()
Have you ever had a phase in your life when you drank more or less?
I didn’t drink in high school, and—with few exceptions—I didn’t drink in college. After I was married, I started drinking more (ha!), but it didn’t become something I considered as part of my identity, i.e., “a bourbon-drinking editor,” until after my divorce (double ha?).
What’s your drink of choice? Why?
Bourbon mixed with Diet Sierra Mist. I’ve never gotten sick on bourbon. It’s a cheerful drink, and it works fast.
Can you tell us about the best time you ever had drinking?
You’ve also asked about the worst time I’ve ever had drinking, yet the best and worst times fit together like 2 sides of one coin, impossible to separate.
For many years, my best/worst time was a college road trip to the Association of Writers & Writing Programs annual conference. I drove in a van with 5 other editors of a literary journal. I didn’t drink a drop until the very last night of our stay. In our hotel suite, we played a drinking game that involved consecutive shots of Absolut Citron. You can guess what happened. In the morning, my friends deposited me in the back of the van, where I stayed for the 14-hour drive back to southern Indiana, supplied with a roll of paper towels in case I continued to get sick. For years afterward, I couldn’t eat oranges.
More recently, my best/worst time involved my karaoke debut, where I sang “Big Shot” by Billy Joel. Someone thought it’d be a terrific idea for everyone to have a really “big shot” of tequila after my rendition—which breaks my cardinal rule about mixing alcohols while in public.
Ultimately, after bogarting the restroom for at least 30 minutes, my friends had to drive me home and put me to bed, which I think they rather enjoyed. While I knew who my friends were after that experience, I shall never become totally incapacitated in public, due to alcohol, ever again.
Has drinking ever affected—either negatively or positively—a relationship of yours?
I can only think of the many ways it has benefited my relationships—close and distant, online and offline, professional and personal. People like to bond over a drink, and I’m sorry it took me until I was about 30 to appreciate this fact.
However, I do wonder if, unbeknownst to me, my drinking negatively affected a romantic relationship. I can always recall times when a stupid thing was said (by me!), or I went too far with a line of questioning. Sometimes the people who love you don’t tell you the whole truth about the ways you’ve unintentionally hurt them (whether you were sober at the time or not!).
Do you have a favorite book, song, or movie about drinking?
I love Mason Jenning’s “Drinking As Religion” and “Ulysses,” the latter of which references going to the liquor store for Bombay gin, “the answer to my problems.” There’s also a wonderful poem, “We Need More Boozy Women Poets.” Click here to read.
Why do you choose to drink?
I more fully experience what’s happening around me. It allows me to focus and filter out the meaningless or self-critical mind chatter.
Sometimes I feel guilty that I can’t achieve this state of mind without my bourbon—that if I were more Zen or well-adjusted, then I would have no problem focusing! But I enjoy and am comfortable with the way I live, and I stopped wishing I could be someone different years ago.
For me, drinking is a component that’s adding ideas, and adding richness. I don’t feel like life is making me small, or reducing me, when I drink. Rather it feels as if everything I encounter (from a person to a billboard to an object) has the potential to make my heart bigger.


What an enjoyable and insightful interview!
So happy that someone else enjoys a drink or two. My preference is a vodka martini before dinner. I can feel my shoulders come down a few inches after the the first couple of sips. Plus, a shot of vodka has less calories than a glass of wine. A win-win.
I have a similar relationship with drinking and am still finding my flow with that – and life i.e. experimenting. When I was married my husband didn’t want me to drink, but since we broke up I think I’ve found a flow that is natural to me (not drinking away my pain but more like helping myself relax and/or have fun). I feel happy to have found a couple friends who don’t judge me for it, and I’m glad to see that a woman I respect (I follow Ms. Friedman’s blog) is open and okay about it. I’m still learning to find my feet but I’m learning I don’t have to feel guilty about liking to drink.
(One of my goals in life is to have a drink named after me
Almost every weekend, my husband and I have dinner with friends and have a few drinks. After 28 years of marriage, we still have fun. Alcohol changes our perspective over stressful events and allows us to laugh over things taken too seriously during the week. It also leads to more fun when we get home.
One thing I never do is write when I drink. When drinking, I love to sing and dance and do silly things, but I prefer to write sober. The more clearheaded I am, the better the work and the more I get done. I love to work. And after a week of hard work, I like to go out and play.
I do look forward to sitting down with Jane one of these days so she can teach me to drink bourbon. So far, it’s a taste I’ve yet to acquire. But I’m always open to learning new things.
So daring of you to participate in this interview. People are often afraid to speak about drinking for fear of sounding problematic about it. For me, I like a cold, iced, boubon and coke (or ginger) in the summer on my back porch, especially after working in the yard. And I adore a good dry vodka martini (extra dirty) when dining out. But I just cannot tolerate alcohol when writing. My head can’t focus. In the winter, white Russians.
Interesting to read such a detailed interview about drinking. Like Jane, I didn’t drink until my 30s, and it’s mostly limited to wine. Excess drinking in my family made me cautious. Now I’m confident I can be responsible.
My passion for writing started last August at the age of 34. I’d had a rough day at work. I’d actually had a rough month at work, and if I’m being honest with myself, I was slowing becoming an alcoholic. Instead of eating food at night I would just have a vodka cranberry. I’ve been in treatment for drug addiction in the past (been in recovery for 10 years) but had lapsed into drinking way too much alcohol over the past two or three years. I never really liked it before. But anyway, one night I got drunk enough to start writing because I couldn’t find any books I wanted to read. Why I was looking for books, I have no idea. I hate to read! But somehow I started writing.
That drunken evening of writing (I’m an accountant, by the way) became a passion that has since taken over my life. I have a self-published erotic romance series that’s been modestly successful, and all I think about is improving my writing because I want to do it for a living.
If I hadn’t gotten drunk that night, this would have never happened. I used to absolutely despise words. I consider myself not to be bitten by the writing bug, but swallowed whole by the writing python.
It’s taken over my life.
And I’m really glad writing took the place of alcohol in my life. It’s a much better release. It’s been a therapeutic, life-changing experience and I can’t imagine my life without writing now. I’m to the point where I can drink a mixed drink or two and not go over the top into a binge, because I don’t feel the need. I’d rather write.
Sorry to leave such a long comment, but I couldn’t help it. If not for alcohol, I would never have found the passion that kept me from turning into an alcoholic.
Love the fact that you tackled this topic. It’s funny, I didn’t realize it was an issue for so many people. Like you, I was given a drink at the family table when I was young. I have a number of alcoholics in my family tree and have seen what overindulgence can do to the family. On the other hand, like you, I love the way wine warms my insides and ends my day. A glass or two with dinner is the perfect end to any kind of day.
On my bookshelf, I have yet to read Alcohol and the Writer by Dr. Donald W. Goodwin. At the time of writing the book, 1988, he mentioned that five out of seven Nobel prize winning American writers were alcoholics. Curious, huh?
Fascinating blog and SUCH a tough one to really explore. Coming as I do from a long line of alcoholics (both parents sober in AA for over 20 years now) I’ve seen and lived firsthand the ravages of it. And, as a careful drinker, I enjoy my freedom to drink my couple-times weekly glass of wine while watching the sunset, and cocktails with friends.
It’s a freedom I’m allowed while I’m vigilant, but I sense in my body, the way it metabolizes sugar (and alchol) the ever present potential for disaster. And flirting with that danger, consciously enjoying alcohol, is part of its appeal to me.
This cracks me up. I always have the same sorts of concerns — being labeled the drinking writer. And I also didn’t really drink until I got married. I felt I had to “man it up” in front of my father in law who had offered me a Moose Drool (great Montana beer by the way).
Now I am a wine man, and I almost always drink at home, alone. It helps me relax the old oblongata and use my creativity into the evening and even while I sleep. Maybe you don’t have to drink to be a great writer, but I guess it doesn’t hurt, sometimes…
Refreshing to see someone say what they think instead of what’s supposed to come out of their mouth as being acceptable. I am also a bourbon kind of guy and used to bemoan the fact that it allowed me to filter out the bad and enjoy the good, but I finally realized it is what it is, and found it actually spurs creative thoughts. So I’ve decided not to fight it, and let it be a part, albeit a controlled one, of my life. Some of my absolute best pages in my ongoing 1st novel are a direct result of some shy muse within that just would not show his face until I serve him a 4 Roses-on-the-rocks. Whether I reach #1 on NYT list or remain just ole’ Ray, I”ll continue to enjoy the small things like a good book, an ice-filled glass, sitting in my leather chair, waiting to fall asleep with the lights on.
GREAT interview, it exhibits that we can drink and not be sots. It is okay to drink on occasion and not be suspect as a closeted alcoholic writer. Jane, thanks for writing about drinking and taking the stigma out of it. It would be nice if more people would read this interview than actually will. I will be sharing it on Facebook!
Ardee-ann
I enjoyed this fresh honest post. Thank you, Jane. As for myself, I try to not drink because I do like it. I like the way it frees my mind and the way it tastes and the way I feel warm and happy. But there have been times…I don’t like losing control or hugging the toilet seat or the bed spinning. I don’t like the way I feel the next morning. I don’t like the way it puts weight on me; I don’t need any more weight. And I don’t like it when it takes a turn and makes me depressed. Nowadays I’ll have a glass of wine or shot of brandy once in a while with friends or when I don’t have to drive and that’s about it.
Thanks for sharing your drinking experiences. I think that drink can work well for some writers as it loosens their tongues and their pens, but over time, it can turn deadly. I wrote several books before I became a heavy drinker and then an alcoholic. Instead, for 30 years, I had a high-flying career in advertising where drinking came with the job. I have to agree that sharing drinks can help bond with other people and works well in social situations. However, it wasn’t until I stopped drinking 21 years ago that I started to write again. Writing replaced booze in my life – an exchange I’ve never regretted.
What a great conversation. Alcohol has had a major impact on my life as well. I started drinking when I was sixteen because I looked old enough to pass muster and my parents didn’t have any problem with it. They were both drinkers and it was the sixties when alcohol flowed with few legal consequences. I’ve learned with time that I inherited an addictive personality, but alcohol’s not my preferred addiction, food is. In the past, I would tread near excessive consumption of liquor when I tried to keep up with friends who were serious drinkers. I felt that edge and could have tumbled over, but stopped too easily–drinking is just not my addiction.
I drank socially for most of my life, then decided to give it up twenty years ago because when I drank, I also ate, to sop up the booze in my blood. It was the eating that was out of control, so in a backhanded manner, I thought I could control one by stopping the other. It helped, but years later I discovered after numerous family deaths that my issue was really anxiety, a brain chemistry imbalance I inherited from my mother and her mother before her. So, now I have meds to help me manage. Alcohol doesn’t mix well with them, but I break that rule a couple of times a year when I enjoy a half glass of wine while dining out, a glass of champagne during a heated game of Euchre, or a margarita when celebrating a graduation of one of the kids.
I can match drinking tales from my youth with the best of you, but I never needed a drink to be social. I’m one of those oddball writers equally comfortable being alone for days or being at the center of conversation in any crowd. Another thing I’m not is judgmental. If you drink, fine. If not, that’s okay too. I believe all our experiences help us attain the wisdom and compassion we need to live in this critical time in history. The world needs leaders and I think the best come from those who have crashed to the depths and figured out a way to climb out. Anyway, for writers, its all grist for the mill. I am thankful for my truckload of missteps and misfortunes from my forty-five year dance with drinking, back and forth across the country, and grateful that I have now settled down to write about it all.
Hello Ms. Friedman,
I found this article while perusing your primary site on Writers’ Digest, and want to commend you on your candor about your personal experience with alcohol and the creative life. I wonder, though, have you ever read The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron, herself a recovering alcoholic who feared she would lose her creative “edge” once she quit drinking? Or Stephen King’s On Writing, about his often idiosyncratic writing life or the biography Haunted, which deals with his turbulent, decades-long battle with the bottle?
While it may be true that so many authors/artists/creative souls produced their seminal masterpieces or most voluminous amount of work while under the influence of controlled substances (and/or while in the grips of mental illness — cf. Poe, Plath, Dickinson), I worry that the impression is being given that enhanced creativity = altered state of mind, and that whatever method one uses to achieve that state of mind is perfectly acceptable, a “whatever floats your boat is OK as long as you don’t drown in it” mentality that is more often than not detrimental to the person and those around him/her. Plus, isn’t the journey as important as the destination — i.e., a writer wins some prestigious award for his/her book or reaches #1 on the bestseller list but has no recollection of how he/she got there? Like Doc Ellis, the baseball pitcher who famously threw a no-hitter in the 1970s while high on LSD — but had no “instant replay” of his own to enjoy what he had contributed to the game?
As a now-young adult child of a “stereotypical” Irish-American father who both witnessed and experienced the horrors of domestic abuse at the hands of this poison I have made the personal commitment never to drink, smoke, use drugs (I bristle at the thought of Tylenol), or do anything else hazardous to myself or others around me. I struggle every day with the memories of what I and my mother endured, as well as depression, horrible mood swings, and yes, a current bout with writer’s block (which is also greatly influenced by my natural introversion and reticence to social media — yes, I do read your blog, but am no less shy even so).
But I digress. While it is true that much what fuels a writer’s creative passion is, in fact, the lifelong dance with personal demons and feelings of inadequacy and/or lack of faith in one’s work/oneself, I hope I’m not alone in saying that vices like alcohol, marijuana, and even indiscriminate s**ual encounters may add spark to the creative flame but also dump fuel into the fire. I should add that I do not follow a specific religious vocation but nonetheless believe that “temptation” must be avoided if one is to be a truly “successful” individual. I want to say also that I enjoy your writing style on the WD site and that you are a truly wonderful writer. Your well-crafted prose and smart, culture-savvy way of phrasing things would probably be just as good if you avoided alcohol, if not better (not that you’re not talented, but with any endeavor there is always room for improvement).
In other words, remember that Hemingway battled the bottle and eventually took a “shotgun approach” by the end. Meanwhile Stephenie Meyer and Orson Scott Card (among others, I’m sure) choose to channel their creative energies through more productive outlets than alcohol or drugs. To me, it’s not about not having fun or building up walls of personal inhibitions, it’s about doing what’s right and finding better ways to let the creative juices flow — whether or not the glass is half-empty at Happy Hour.
(I should also add that I’m not yet 18, but even after 21 I’ll still be as substance free as I am today.)
To “Shy Commenter” – A lovely and thoughtful response, thank you.
There is much I could say, but the short of it is: We each have light and darkness in our lives. I’m going to explore it all, the entire dance of life.
“I’m an introvert who also drinks.” – witty, fine words!