LASR listers that attend the Wednesday chats, know I love me my Diet Dr. Pepper™. I’ve read all the emails about how awful all those chemicals are for my body and my brain, but I believe—through anecdotal experience—that Diet Dr. Pepper™ is key to my writing process, particularly in proximity to chocolate consumption. If there isn’t a can of that particular soda close at hand, then my muse does not show up until it does.
I don’t know why my particular muse is so partial to Diet Dr. Pepper™. I can totally not drink it when I’m not writing, but if my screen has Word pulled up and a blank file waiting for words, it’s not getting filled without Diet Dr. Pepper™.
My muse appears to be flexible on the subject of chocolate. I rotate between Twin Bings, which I have to import, btw, because you can’t buy them where I live. I also import Idaho Spud candy bars. It’s not as easy as you’d think to get them. I can only order them when it’s cold here in Houston, which doesn’t happen that often. Nor does it always stay cold enough, from when I place the order to when I get my order, for no melting to occur. Sadly, I will eat them anyway, but I prefer them in their proper, unmelted form.
I also rotate in Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and Pearson’s Salted Nut Rolls—my only non-chocolate indulgence—if we don’t count Fig Newtons, which I’m not. And then there are the holiday variations. I like anything both chocolate and coconut. I spent an inordinate amount of time trying to track down Limited Edition Coconut M&Ms last year.
It might be sad (okay, maybe it is sad), but I give my food dysfunction partial credit for not only finishing Girl Gone Nova, but also my Steampunk romance novella, Tangled In Time. My muse and I have no trouble sharing credit with Diet Dr. Pepper™ and chocolate—as long as they don’t want a cut of my royalties.