My Cranky Recovery

For anyone who doesn't know, AWP is the annual gathering of approximately 12,000 writers and editors held at rotating locations around the US. It's the mother ship. It calls us home each year. We all know the stereotype that writers are heavy drinkers. While not every writer has spent years and thousands of dollars to … Continue reading A Sober Person’s Guide to AWP →

a misty remembrance Stemware was standard, of course. I preferred wine glasses with a certain heft, a solidness. Most of mine were clear, but I once bought a violet blue glass I liked, and should have loved, but never did. At a Renaissance fair in the 80s, I bought one made from pottery, thrown on … Continue reading The Things I Drank From →

Welcome to this month's sober author interview, featuring the amazing Alexis Paige, author of Not a Place on Any Map.  When, what, and where was your last drink? It was thirteen years ago—Professor Plum in the Billiards Room with a candlestick. I like to play this game of drunkalogue in the form of…a Jeopardy Question, a … Continue reading Cranky interview with author Alexis Paige →

I have to do five things, all the time, to stay comfortable in sobriety. Running is one of them. I’ve been an off and on runner (mostly off) for a couple of decades. Here’s my cyclical running pattern. Don’t run for a year or more. Go for one two-mile run. Sign up for a marathon. … Continue reading Keeping it together in sobriety: part one of five →

A friend told me that drinking dreams are merely “our subconscious taking out the trash” but I think it’s more like “our subconscious upending the trash can and spreading the trash all over the kitchen then leaving the door open on its way out”. These dreams are always a variation on the same theme. There … Continue reading My dreams are three-ply plastic →

Airports are for drinking, which everyone knows. Some of my best binges were in airports, which led to binging on planes, which led to navigating any number of strange cities through the delicious fog of my own toxicity. Standing, hip cocked, waiting for my bag, reinstalling Uber through a Boingo hotspot, then carefully avoiding conversation … Continue reading Sober flying is stupid →