If drinking is wrong, I don’t want to be right. Yet I do want to write. And I don’t want to end up like so many famous writers throughout history who drank…clutching to their vice like a crutch, bitter and depressed and disillusioned with the world, firmly believing that they needed that glass full of liquid beside them in order to access their talent.

But what if they did? What if alcohol and creativity were linked? O frabjous day! Philip Hunter gives me new hope in his recent Prospect Magazine article, “I drink, therefore I can.” Apparently the benevolent gods of modern science are entertaining the possibility that there is such a thing as a “creative cocktail gene”….a gene variant (known as the G-variant) found in approximately 15% of Caucasians. And if they’re right, I may have a brand new impetus to write.

The findings are based on a study done by the University of Colorado in 2004. In it, a group of moderate-to-heavy drinking students were given alcohol injections directly into their bloodstream (um, who’dya have to screw to get picked for THAT team?):

“Those with the G-variant produced a slightly different version of what is known as the mu-opioid protein, which elicits a stronger response in the brain. As a result they reported stronger feelings of happiness and elation after their shot of alcohol. This initial euphoria is usually followed by a longer state of relaxation, lasting several hours. For those with the G-variant, this period aids the creative process.”

Sweet-Jesus-God. Could it really be true?! Has my alcohol consumption finally been justified by science?!

But it’s not all peaches and roses. Too much of the stuff was shown to make the subjects sleepy and lethargic…and (I imagine) more likely to tell their manuscripts to fuck off. So the key for people with this gene is to find a balance – to hover somewhere between sober and shit-faced if they want to get anything done. And this balance is important, because people with this gene were also found to be prone to alcoholism…perhaps as a result of a desperate, perpetual attempt to hold on to that sweet euphoria they once experienced when just a few drinks used to do the job.

So, I confess: this discovery both excites me and terrifies me. Suddenly I have a vision in my head of Ernest Hemingway’s head as he pulled the trigger on that shotgun that effectively terminated his talent along with his life. Hemingway, a well-known writer-drinker, descended into intense depression and alcoholism in his later years. And, of course, he’s not the only one. The artist-drinker demise is practically cliché at this point. Edgar Allen Poe, William Faulkner, Jack Kerouac, Dorothy Parker, Raymond Chandler, Beethoven, Van Gogh, Jackson Pollock, Francis Bacon, F. Scott Fitzgerald…I could keep going but I won’t because it’s depressing me. And thrilling me. And I don’t know what to do with this paradox of emotion.

Because what if this study is really on to something? They haven’t proven conclusively yet that alcohol and creativity are linked, but as a writer-artist myself who likes to drink…I get it. There is something freeing and euphoric about a drink or two or three, loosening your internal censors and sparking inspiration without losing control of your faculties. But HOW DANGEROUS. What a terrible cycle to enlist yourself in. What a hopeless crutch. Makes me think of that great line in Tennessee Williams’ play Cat on a Hot Tin Roof in a scene between Brick and Big Daddy: Brick, an alcoholic, is unable to walk without a crutch after an injury to his leg (an injury sustained while drunk). During a climatic confrontation scene with Big Daddy, Brick is drunk and can’t reach the bar to pour more alcohol because he can’t reach his crutch. Brick pleads with Big Daddy: “Big Daddy! Give me my crutch. Give me that crutch, Big Daddy.” Brilliant. And, yup – Tennessee Williams liked the bottle, too.

Julia Cameron, probably known best for her brilliant guide to the creative process, The Artist’s Way, is a former writer-drinker who felt for years that her drinking and her creativity were intrinsically linked. Her journey to developing a healthy creative process sans bottle for herself is what led to the creation of The Artist’s Way, a 12-week course that helps artists find a way to unlock their creativity while still living a healthy and prosperous life. Cameron argues that you don’t need alcohol or drugs or any other form of self-destruction to create. You need daily discipline, the willingness to surrender, and the courage to listen to your inner voice.

So I don’t know if that ol’ G-variant is such a blessing after all. Because we are human beings, and human beings tend to be terrible at things like moderation and restraint. And alcohol tends to eat through livers. And it’s depressing as hell to think about all of the brilliant souls who have destroyed themselves in search of that inspiration-inducing euphoria that is inherently transient.

Do I think that alcohol and creativity are linked? I suppose it’s possible. Do I want them to be? In all honesty, no. I think relaxation is key to artistic expression; if a writer-artist is able to achieve an intense state of relaxation and work from that state, their creations will be honest and beautiful. Alcohol is not the only way to achieve a state of intense relaxation. While alcohol is lovely, she’s also a very tricky bitch. And how sad to think that alcohol is in any way responsible for your talent.

But I still think I would’ve signed up for that study. That must have been one hell of a room.