Guest post by Rebecca Lynn Foreman
Grains, sugar, and mash wort, the fermentables that will become a Trappist beer
I am obsessed with beer. I dream of brewing a big fat Belgian Trappist, 8% or 10% ABV, with complex interplay of malt and hops, accented by spicy notes. On the subway, I surf my iPhone for homebrew recipes. I take detours to “pass by” brewpubs when they have a rare brew on tap. It’s like falling in love.
This is recent. I only began homebrewing after New Year’s. It’s magical how such simple ingredients—barley, water, hops, and yeast—can result in such different flavors and textures depending on where the ingredients come from and how they are added to the process. I feel a wonderful delirium when I think about beer. But when I get down to brewing, I focus strictly on quantities, temperatures, and times. Brewing requires discipline as well as devotion. Discipline is no fun without devotion, and devotion doesn’t take you anywhere without discipline. I’ve found this true in many pursuits, particularly writing.
For me, getting started isn’t half the job, it’s 80% of the job. Getting started takes discipline. It’s tough to apply butt to chair when there are so many other things I could be doing (like brewing beer). And yet what brings me back to a work in progress is devotion, an infatuation with the story or poem as it evolves. Sometimes, just letting the characters and settings bubble in my writer’s mind will move the story forward. Other times, the work will only progress if I agitate it every day (“rouse the yeast”).
For example, I schedule time for National Novel Writing Month every November. To complete a 50,000-word novel in 30 days, you have to make progress every day, and that demands discipline. Oddly enough, such discipline often gives rise to a yearning to get back to the story. The best case is when the yearning becomes infatuation, an obsession like my current obsession with beer.
Alas, infatuation eventually fades, and if I start seeing a bunch of faults in my beloved story, I may lose momentum. Sometimes I resort to manuals to find tricks to keep the love alive. Other times I have to avoid rereading earlier passages. It is well to judiciously partake of half-finished product, whether writing or beer, as too much tasting can dull the palate. I prefer to keep moving, hoping my satisfaction will be all the greater once the work is complete and I can enjoy it as a whole.
In writing as well as brewing, I’ve found that I can use discipline to cultivate devotion and use devotion to strengthen my discipline. It may not work all the time for me—or any time for other people—but I’ve produced some delicious brew this year. And it’s only March. April is National Poetry Month…
Rebecca Lynn Foreman is a Swedish-to-English translator and editor based in Stockholm, Sweden, who also writes poetry and fiction. Her latest beer is a Belgian specialty ale, and her next might be a Westvleteren clone. She writes every day.