There is perhaps no archetype more persistent throughout the history of art and literature than that of the tortured artist. From the tragically real cases (like Ernest Hemingway, Virginia Woolf, and David Foster Wallace), to self-conscious poseurs (who shall remain nameless), angst-filled writers in both fiction and real life are an enduring staple in culture.
Is there something to it? Is there a link between creativity and the darker sides of life? Does angst help you write?
For me, I can’t get a lick done when I’m feeling down. But then again, my books involve corn dogs and space monkeys.
What about you?