All I can think about lately is either my work-in-progress or whatever book I'm reading. Good, right? So, I was out a friend's place on Saturday night and had some wine. Not a ton, but enough. Out with friends, playing boardgames and having a few drinks. A nice, fun, relaxed kind of evening. We didn't stay out too late. For some reason, before going to bed, I had the urge to write the beginning of a scene. I wrote about a page. Not a lot, but apparently, I had to get it down.
I read it the next morning. The action of what I wanted to happen is there, but the language is awful. I used the phrase "his dark eyes" too many times. Was it Hemingway who said, write drunk, edit sober? Not that I was drunk, I just had a limited vocabulary. I am glad I wrote it though. Wine or not, when I have an idea, I must write.