I've heard people say they can't write while listening to music, and for some reason, I can't understand that. I feel like having music playing quiets the other things going on inside my head so I can concentrate on the story. More specifically, music quiets the parts of my mind that wonder if I have any new e-mail or if anyone's said anything interesting on Twitter. Some people say to write on a computer without an internet connection, I say I'll be fine as long as I'm listening to something. Mostly.
It's kind of a two-way street, now that I think about it, when it comes to music and inspiration. It's someone else's creation working for you, allowing you to make something of your own. I tend to find a few pieces of music that work for a story, and listen to only those when I'm writing and editing it. Sometimes, it's just that the music in particular captures some of the feel of what I'm doing, while other times, there's such a strong connection between the music and the scene or character that I have to have the music to make it work.
Thankfully, that last one doesn't happen all that often; if I only got to listen to one song over the course of an entire book, I think I'd get bored with it pretty quickly. Six years ago, I wrote a scene that had two characters dancing to a song, and so I played that song on repeat while writing that scene. To this day, I still expect that song to start over again every time I hear it end.
And then there's the flipside: music I enjoy that I just can't listen to while writing, because for some reason, it just doesn't work. Much as I hate to say it, one of my favorite new albums is like that, Garbage's "Not Your Kind of People". Absolutely love the band, the album is amazing, but damn, trying to write to it ends in failure. Which is why it struck me as so odd that the second song, "Big Bright World", fits Skyborne so perfectly.
Some of it's the mood of the song, but most of it's the lyrics; these two lines might as well be the two main characters talking to each other:
You're mysterious, you make no sense
I love you 'cause you're innocent
You fell out through a hole inside the sun
I love you 'cause you're innocent
You fell out through a hole inside the sun
And then, the lines after that utterly and completely suit how they are together, and why they become so important to each other:
So magnify the best inside me
Fill the parts that you can't find me
The parts that won't give out when things get hard
Fill the parts that you can't find me
The parts that won't give out when things get hard
The best part, though, is that the song ends with three simple words that bring everything together for them, words that fit to end the book as well:
I'm with you.
For them, that's what matters most.
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