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.
Julianna Baggott is the author of 17 books, mostly novels. Her forthcoming trilogy, Pure, is in development with Fox2000 and will published in February. She also writes under the pen name Bridget Asher, most recently The Provence Cure for the Brokenhearted, and as N.E. Bode, most notably The Anybodies Trilogy, for younger readers. In addition to three collections of poetry, she’s also published essays in the New York Times, Washington Post, Boston Globe, and has been heard on NPR’s Talk of the Nation, All Things Considered and Tell Me More. Her most drunken novel, Which Brings Me to You, was co-written with Steve Almond. She blogs at “The Shared Brain of Baggott, Asher & Bode.” She’s on Facebook and Twitter.
Drinking Diaries: How old were you when you had your first drink and what was it?
Julianna Baggott: My parents always let us have wine with dinner if we wanted to — at 16 or so. I never wanted to. But I was sipping drinks by then. I had a very early life lesson that included Peach Schnapps and a boyfriend who ran the Cyclotron ride at the boardwalk. (Was it called the Cyclotron? Something like that.)
How did/does your family treat drinking?
Both of my grandfathers died in ways that were probably alcohol-related — one in a jeep accident and another because of a failure of health when my mom was in her early 20s. Both of my grandfathers were alcoholics, as were some others in our family. And so my mother warned me that we had addictive genes. She always told me that drinking and drugs felt good; why else would people do it? It just also happens that they ruin lives and can kill you. My mother also always said, “Never marry a man you haven’t seen drunk.” Drinking changes a personality and you want to marry a nice sweet drunk, not a mean one.
How do you approach alcohol in your every day life?
I sometimes have a weak gin and tonic after 5pm. Sometimes a glass of wine. I’m very careful about drinking in public. This is a small town and writers are famous drinkers. I don’t want my students to fall for the old mythology that to be a serious writer you have to drink, seriously. I was recently overserved (a-hem, my fault) in a New York City museum bar, and was reminded of hangovers.
If you have kids, how is the subject of drinking handled? Do you drink in front of them? With them?
My kids see me drink responsibly. They’ve never seen me drunk. My husband also drinks beer after dinner. I lecture them as my mother lectured me. I’m strict about them not drinking — my oldest two are 16 and 14 — but, of course, if they came home and threw up, I’d help them through it, gently, and press them to learn something.
Have you ever had a phase in your life when you drank more or less?
In college, yes, especially my junior year. I burned the candle at both ends. Every night was a special at some bar in town. I also studied hard and got very good grades, not sure how. I could never drink like that now.
What’s your drink of choice? Why?
I like my weak gin and tonic.
Can you tell us about the worst time you ever had, drinking?
A college boyfriend had a best friend who was in ROTC. He’d gotten into some poison ivy and his whole body was covered. There was a dance coming up and he’d be cleared up by the dance but he couldn’t ask a girl in this condition. My boyfriend asked me to go with him. So, sure. It was a fancy party. There were drinks — but I’m not sure if he was of age or if there was a flask somewhere. In any case, we both drank, but he was drinking much more than I was aware of. When he started to pull out of the parking lot, I realized he was loaded. I got out of the car and begged him to leave it. “Don’t drive home. Get out of the car!” But he pulled off. It was raining by this point, hard. I walked home, heels in hand, my dress soaked, make-up smeared. I walked to my boyfriend’s apartment. He said, “What the hell happened?” He asked where his friend was. There were sirens by that point, off in the distance. I said, “He’s probably where those sirens are.” Luckily, the kid survived and didn’t kill anyone. He lost his license, his ROTC scholarship and therefore he could no longer go to our college. He had to switch schools. There was a trial — maybe a couple of trials. In any case, it was bad.
What do you like most about drinking?
I’ve had a lot of great nights that included drinking. I love that drinking makes you sing too loudly and off-key, that it makes people dance (I love to dance), that it makes people break down and cry. Baggott is an Irish name and there’s that big drunk loud messy happy sad desperate loving crying honesty that’s part of the Irish mythology around drinking. It’s not all mythology.
In the end, I did take my mother’s advice. I married someone who — when drinking too much — has one overriding trait. He wants to talk about how much he’s in love with me. It doesn’t matter who you are or if you know him or me at all. He’ll be completely poetic and sentimental and he’ll probably cry. And when we’re alone, he gives these beautiful heart-rending speeches — no, proclamations. It’s one of my favorite things about him.
