Ahh, the price of (almost semi-)fame . . .

Again with the misinterpretations . . .

Never did I write while under the influence. Never ever ever.

Well, okay, once.

I wrote a play in college, a screwball comedy called A PERFECTLY RATIONAL ADJUSTMENT, in which the main character was a famous playwright who'd gone bonkers and now believed he was the main character in one of his own plays (which were all screwball comedies . . .).

I did the first draft -- working late at night, after all homework and such was complete -- by downing three shots of Bacardi 151 and then typing as fast as I could until I couldn't see the keys any more (usually about twenty minutes to half an hour). Then I'd go pass out.

But that was only the first draft. And, by the way, it was terrible. I had to rewrite it six times. Sober.

Anyone who's taken a close look at my work -- especially my Caine books -- will, I think, understand that stories of such intricacy are not to be attempted while under the influence of anything except caffeine (in small, regulated doses) and massive amounts of tortilla chips. And sometimes chocolate.

The cocktails were poured only after all work for the day was complete. And they may be again.

A lot depends on how my body adjusts to the meds.

We shall see.