On Writing and Wine

This is the cork from a bottle of XYZin Zinfandel that I shared in Santa Monica with an unexpected friend. That bottle of wine led to an unexpected turn of events that inspired the pivotal scene in my novel, Up the Hill.

Wine can do things like that.

At the center of celebrations, in intimate moments, shared between friends, wine is a marker of memories. In raising a glass we commune with others. We are intertwined and connected.

A couple of years ago at the opening of one of my plays, the love of my life handed me the cork from a bottle of champagne and asked if I wanted to save it. I had never thought of keeping something so seemingly insignificant, but since that night I have collected a few. 

In each cork there is a memory of wine being poured in celebration, in mourning, in remembrance, in laughter, in tears, with friends, with colleagues, with lovers, and with strangers who, through the sharing of wine, became part of each other’s lives.

Those moments, strung together, become the threads of my writing and wine is woven into each story just as it is in life.

Luckily, someone reminded me to grab that XYZin cork off the bar in Santa Monica. I had almost forgotten to pick it up and what a shame that would have been.