Hunter S. Thompson couldn’t get out of his own way. He was the kind of guy who sat at the back of the class clowning around and cracking jokes, who pumped out essays the night before they were due; sometimes he produced a hit, sometimes a dud. His flaw was that he had the talent; he just never really applied himself. Why break a sweat when you can fluke your way through? Why stay sober when readers like what you put out while you’re high?

Hunter S. Thompson cultivated an image of rockstar proportions: an eccentric, hyper-masculine, booze-swilling, drug-taking court jester act that he soon found he couldn’t escape from, even when it was harming him.

Jack Kerouac, author of On the Road, and Philip K. Dick, author of The Man in the High Castle, used amphetamines for their writing the way athletes use performance enhancers. Though already talented, a fistful of these so-called ‘smart’ pills helped both men focus their energies and sharpen their minds, and could keep them powering through legendary typing marathons that lasted weeks. But the pharmacological assistance came at a price. The candle that burns twice as bright burns half as long. Jack died at 47 and Philip died at 53. Their lives were a mess by the end. They were a pair of broke, unhealthy, multi-divorcees—Jack a grumpy alcoholic living with his mother; Phil a paranoid recluse toeing the line between madman and genius. Neither lived long enough to see how lasting their legacies would come to be. Like a literary James Dean, Jack Kerouac remains a familiar figure, and his books and connection to the Beat Generation are recognisable even to those who don’t read. Philip K. Dick has been dead almost four decades but his grip on western culture holds fast and his influence is detectable almost everywhere you look; those who have never read his books have almost certainly seen one of the many films adapted from his stories.

Samuel Taylor Coleridge and Thomas De Quincey are connected by two things: William Wordsworth and opium. Sam met Wordsworth first and together they published The Lyrical Ballads in 1798, which kicked off the Romantic movement and attracted legions of fans. Among them was Thomas De Quincey. He famously tracked down his two idols and insinuated himself into their Lake District clique. Wordsworth was impressed by the much younger Tom, but Sam Coleridge was wary. Perhaps Sam recognised a little too much of himself in Tom. Later, Sam would go on to publish Kubla Khan and Tom would publish Confessions of an English Opium-Eater. Both works are considered the earliest instances of drug literature. But while Tom wrote candidly about his experiences with addiction, Sam only ever alluded to drug use, using metaphors instead of specific references. He preferred to keep the matter of his laudanum dependence private, so he didn't exactly appreciate it when Tom, on the very first page of Confessions, publicly outed him as one of the biggest dope fiends of all.

William (Bill) S. Burroughs and Hubert Selby Jr. (A.K.A Cubby) lived improbably long lives, considering the damage they inflicted on their bodies via heroin addiction. As the rest of America gloried in the post-WW2 period of prosperity, comfort and conformity, Bill and Cubby explored the ghettos, underpasses and fringes of society, looking for the forgotten people—those cast off and dismissed as unworthy of the so-called American Dream. They were interested in the stories of the homosexuals, drag queens, sex workers, junkies, drunks and hustlers. Unlike the unlucky rest of us, Bill and Cubby became more relevant and cooler as they got older. Their radical subject matter and writing styles drew in new generations of fans and attracted notable figures from other creative fields; Nirvana’s Kurt Cobain idolised Bill, while Cubby counted among his fans punk personality Henry Rollins and Red Hot Chilli Peppers frontman Anthony Kiedis.

In this second episode, we’re examining the lives of Allen Ginsberg, author of Howl, and Ken Kesey, author of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. This pair of talented authors rode the countercultural wave of free love, free thought and free expression that started as a swell in the 50s and crashed over America in the 60s and 70s. Allen and Ken crossed paths frequently during this time, brought together by mutual friends such as Jack Kerouac and Timothy Leary, and a mutual appreciation for LSD. Allen led the Beats in their movement to overhaul literature, then passed the revolutionary baton onto Ken, who led the hippies in a push to change the people and the country.

Welcome to the debut episode of Hollyword, a new podcast that explores the lives of history’s greatest story-tellers. Our first season, ‘Writers Under the Influence’, looks at authors whose lives and careers are, in the popular imagination, entangled with their substance addictions.