On Attacking Baristas and Xylophones

I'm very protective of the music I use for writing. I search long and hard for the perfect collection of songs that can suffuse my brain with the tone I want to create in my novels. Every revision requires at least one new song to represent the shift, the new sense of climate I'm aiming to add to the story.

There's a small handful of people I'm willing to share my songs with. I can count them on one hand. It's not that I don't want to share my music, but I'm sort of afraid that if I give my story songs away, I'll dilute the power they hold over my subconscious. Somehow, I'm convinced that giving away the musical kernel of the novel is to give away the kernel of the story itself.

Irrational. I know. But it means that when I'm sitting in my coffeeshop, sipping my cappuccino on a Tuesday morning, and one of my hard-discovered songs comes over the speakers, I immediately leap to my feet and attack the mild-mannered, music-literate, cappuccino-making genius behind the counter with what I'm sure is a terrifying "WHY MY MUSIC, YOU THIEF????"

Don't fret. The encounter ended with mutual respect, one more cappuccino, and an exchange of music recommendations.

The point is, I'm as emotionally invested in my music as I am in my own novels. There's something really amazing about finding a song that perfectly captures a piece of my own imagination - the spark of a character, the first image of the story, the core of its emotion. It reminds me that I'm participating in a much larger tapestry of creative thought, adding to a conversation that's been going for hundreds of years in every medium storytellers can get their fingers on.

Which is my long-winded way of saying music is important to me, yo. (And I'm a little crazy about it).

As a way to further establish how crazy I am (and entertain you with my follies), I'll offer this final example.

About a week ago, M (one of the four people I share music with), sent me a song with the explanation, "you should listen to this because it's weird."

And it was. Weird. But oddly appealing. I filed the recommendation away for further thought and countered with a piece that was equally as odd, but far less appealing with attack xylophones. The point is we had a decent exchange about this piece of music.

Fast forward a week to two days ago when I encounter a song I think M will like. I send it and the following happens:

Me: Have you heard of this band? I like them so I think you will, too.
M: .....I have. Didn't I send you one of their weird songs last week?
Me: Um. You did? Did I like it?
M: You did. There's a problem with your brain.
Me: DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW?!

I'm on the prowl again. Searching for the music that will pattern my brain for the foreseeable future. Send your recs if you've got 'em!

Musical me

Music has been a pretty significant part of my life. It was always in my house as a kid. My mother made sure to have all sorts of noise makers handy and started me off on the piano early. I cycled through a handful of instruments - including a brief and serious affair with the tambourine (yes, that's me) - before proclaiming my new life as a 3rd grade cellist.

Not only did my mother make sure I had access to the tools of musical creativity, but she inadvertently inspired my first forays into the world of rock. As a dedicated pre-teen rebel, I countered her love of Enya with Nirvana. I met Libana with musicals, Adiemus with Lorena McKennitt, Secret Garden with VAST (yes, my mother has very specific tastes). All the while, I was falling in love with Bach, Mozart, and Prokofiev. 

There's never been a time in my life when I didn't lean on music in some way or another. It's always been a crucial element of my writing, both creative and academic. I am of the camp of writers who creates playlists for novels and can't really get going until I have THE song that captures the tone, the emotion of the story I want to tell. 

In the past year, I've been on a ruthless hunt for new music. I don't know how many albums and tracks I've purchased, but my music library is looking rather flush at the moment. 

When a reader asked me for more music recommendations, well, I was only too happy to start thinking about my favorites from the past year. I'm avoiding the obvious ones like Fun. or Mumford and Sons (both favorites from the past 12 months), and going for a few I think are less well known. When possible, I'm linking to bandcamp.com, which is a FABULOUS way to support artists.

First up, a group I found less than a week ago, Imagine Dragons, "It's Time". I love this track for their use of percussion, strings, and the unexpected in an otherwise fairly typical sound. This has been released as an EP and I enjoy all of the tracks. 

Next, another recent discovery, Zaki Ibrahim, "Something in the Water." There are SO MANY reasons to love this. The blending of African beats with dubsteb with that silky vocal....this one slayed me quite dead. 

Third, one my friend Maggie sent me, Lost Lander, "Through Your Bones." It was extremely difficult to pick one track from this album. They're sort of folk, sort of not. This is an album, called DRRT, I can put on repeat.

And finally, a new one from Santigold (used to be Santogold), "Go!" Full of energy and experimentation. Brash and unapologetic, I love this song. 

Hope you enjoy! And please feel free to drop a few recommendations of you own. I'm always on the prowl for new music - Music Predator, that's me. Send me prey! ;)   

So, I'm Revising

There's nothing quite like revision to make me wish the world and all of my daily responsibilities would quiet down for a while. It's not possible and perhaps it's not ideal (I've always responded well to a fair bit of pressure), but it means I become rather limited as human beings go. My answer to everything is, "I need to be writing," because every time I disentangle my mind, even a little bit, from the twisted vines of my manuscript, I have to fight to find my place again.

This means I've started doing things that are entirely unlike me. I've dropped bowls of dog food all over the floor. I've stopped organizing my bills. I've privileged getting home faster over stopping for essentials like milk, eggs, or vegetables.

I've stopped painting my nails.

This is serious stuff. Anything that doesn't appear immediately useful to my revision process gets tossed if possible. But there are some things that do help my revision process and yesterday contained so many that I'm taking this moment to share them with you.

First! The Shearwater album, Animal Joy was released, which meant it was on my iPod nearly as soon as I woke up because someone who loves me very much preordered it for me. I've only recently discovered this band via NPR, but oh, how I love them. The album was on repeat nearly all of yesterday. Here are two tracks for you to sample:

ANIMAL LIFE  

BREAKING THE YEARLING  

Very soon after receiving this musical delight, I visited my local coffee haunt and was treated to this peach of a latte (a-ha ha ha) by our regular barista. He says he didn't do it on purpose, but I prefer to think he's just this talented.

And finally, a little bit later in the day I got something I've been anticipating for weeks and weeks, which will make my hours of staring at the screen much more comfortable...

 And with that, away I go, back to work so I can get back to work.