A guest post by Rob Pierce

Rob Pierce wrote the novels Blood by Choice, Tommy Shakes, Uncle Dust, With The Right Enemies, the novella Vern In The Heat, and the short story collection The Things I Love Will Kill Me Yet. Rob has also edited dozens of novels for All Due Respect and freelance, and has had stories published in numerous ugly magazines.

He’s here tackling this week’s topic: Share your favorite writing snack or drink – one that gets you moving when you're stuck or allows you to relax after a time spent “butt in chair.”

by Rob

So many to choose from, but Dietrich asked and he is a friend. Not that I’ve agreed to this yet, but I did imply I would do it, and that implication was long enough ago that I now feel compelled to answer.

I generally drink beer, and will do that with a shot or two (at times, definitely not always) while writing. So, most common is a good IPA (come on haters, have at me.) But for quality, my favorite drink is Suntory Whisky Toki. That’s what they call it on the label, and they do such a fine job of making this flavorful beverage I will not argue the point. I’m not saying it’s as good as The Hakushu, but it’s over a hundred dollars cheaper for a fifth. Hard to believe my vast book sales don’t make the idea of price irrelevant, but I like to drink. A specific fifth may be a one-time purchase, but the number of fifths will continue to accumulate, especially as my writing continues to be about messed up people. Messed up is the polite way of saying how bad my bad guys are.

Toki is essentially a smooth Japanese scotch. I like all these things: smoothness, the Japanese, and scotch. If we’re talking scotch from Scotland, I’ll choose Glenlivet, but this is not to be a listing of everything I like to drink. It’s to be a little essay or some such about my favorite food or drink that relaxes me. I write late at night for the most part, and in the interests of keeping my weight down (hah! Help me, Lord, I’m aging), and of getting to sleep after writing some gruesome killing or interior turmoil, I choose alcohol. I am not a doctor, but I could drink a few under the table. That is my qualification.

Jagged as my writing is, the smoothness of Toki is a beautiful contrast. Almost all my writing takes place fairly late at night, so relaxation is what I seek. After and sometimes during the drinking, I read. Almost exclusively noir of late, although there are other books in the bedside pile-up. Of course, as I write this, I’m on a pre-Halloween drinking fast, attempting to develop a taste for water, which has little taste. This fast will end on Halloween Eve, when my brother’s band plays a live show. In a bar that carries Toki.

I’m currently standing at my desk, thankful that I purchased a monitor stand so my legs don’t atrophy, as I await a delivery I have to sign for. The delivery was unexpected and is from my optometrist. My optometrist, who is a thirty-minute walk from here, didn’t say they were shipping anything. So I missed the first delivery, drove to the post office to pick up whatever it is, and was told they couldn’t find it, but that they would contact me when it turned up.

Instead, they attempted a second delivery — while I was home, but I didn’t hear them — so I requested a redelivery for today. So, at this point I expect it. But I despise an inability to have control. The best I could do was sign up for text updates. So far, they’ve sent a half dozen, each confirming that I want text updates. No ETA on the horizon. This is worse than waiting for the cable guy.

At least I have Iggy Pop’s Zombie Birdhouse playing. It would be even better with a beer. There are no beers in this house, though. This tragedy. If the package hasn’t arrived when my brother gets here in about an hour, I’m going to the store, and he will be under strict instructions to sign my name for any postal delivery. Standing is okay, but it’s boring and we have a beautiful day outside, and I really wouldn’t mind a walk.

Ahem, it is now 10 p.m. No delivery, no new text update, and, due to the fast, no alcohol. So I’ll wait again tomorrow. And tonight, despite the lack of anything smooth to wash it down — water tastes too watery, like it’s watered down — I shall write fiction. With any luck, it will be jagged as hell, and come Halloween Eve, the liquor fast concludes. 

Cheers!

Thank you to Rob for stopping by. Fans of his work can find out more about him and his writing here.