30 Days of Writing: Days Seven and Eight

 

Do you listen to music while you write? What kind? Are there any songs you like to relate apply to your characters?

It depends on where I am.  If I’m stealing a moment at work during lunch, music will be playing on my iPod (goes on when I walk in the office and remains that way until I leave).  If at home, I usually have something going in the background for white noise, but I don’t make a point to put on music.  CNN repeating headline news works just as well. 

Depending on the story or tone of what I’m writing, I can see how some music might get in the way and not fit.  This would bother me if I’m not completely in the zone of writing and actually starting to pay attention to the lyrics or melody of what is playing. 

If I was going to formally select some songs for characters, some dark love gone wrong songs (Jimi Hendrix’s Hey Joe or Miranda Lambert’s Gunpowder & Lead), extended song wandering music (Grateful Dead or Led Zeppelin) or dark-spirited (some Nirvana, Guns N’ Roses, Eazy-E) would work.  Not many butterflies and rainbows dancing about in my text, though I did have a serial kidnapper with a quirk for Michael Jackson songs.

What’s your favorite genre to write? To read?

Though I grew up devouring any books that featured the dark and twisted…Stephen King, John Saul, V.C. Andrews’ Dollanganger series…I didn’t originally lump my writing into the horror category.  I still held an old-fashioned notion of true horror involving monsters and since I didn’t have formal monsters trotting about, then I guessed I wasn’t writing horror.  Then as I started sharing my poetry and short stories, feedback from peers in class workshops was “um, this is disturbing” and “um, what actually motivated you to write this.”  I started figuring out that what I loved about the material I read was the twisted surprise of it. 

In King’s Quitters, Inc., the beauty is how getting caught up in the horror of a treatment center’s non-traditional philosophy could happen.  I find that I am fascinated by the “what ifs” and the idea of people’s reality behind the public facades.  That someone can be an every Sunday, church going deacon, yet a deviant molesting the Sunday school kids.  That the UPS deliver person is a contract killer.  That the IRS agent has a gambling addiction.  So I suppose my “genre” leans towards quiet horror.

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Music Monday – A Sample from My Life Theme Songs Playlist

I’ve had a post wandering around in my head about sharing my current life theme song list (called LTS for short on my iPod).  My first thought was to list them all so I could pull out some deep intellectual thoughts and riff for pages and pages on what led me to identify so strongly, then place the songs on the list.  Yeah, I opted out of that one to save both of us.  Me from getting all squirrelly in reviewing my life up until now, feeling the nostalgic urge to reach for the SoCo (Southern Comfort-the college go to for early morning, deep philosophical moments) and ending up posting an epic, incoherent tell-all.  You from having to wrangle through it.  Instead, I figure I’ll just post some songs here and there that I love and maybe only mutter a little bit about why.

Below you’ll find Gavin DeGraw’s “I Don’t Want to Be.”  The song’s concept has been my theme since sixth grade.  In third grade, I was moved into a program dubbed “special projects” that was for test-deemed intelligent kids in my school district.  We were kept together as a class from third to sixth.  Cliques formed of course and me, being a social lad who could get along with anyone, somehow found myself in the “popular” group by fourth grade.  This group was primarily girls from families with money who dressed themselves in designer-brand, preppy gear.  I wasn’t from such a family or background, but remember begging my mom to get me the same.  On a budget, I ended up with one Izod turtleneck and one pair each of Jordache, Lee and Sasson jeans.

Also as part of this clique, we’d taken to emulating “The Official Preppy Handbook” down to changing our names and talking Valley Girl.  By fifth grade, I’d morphed into “Barbi” and had my first boyfriend dictated to be a guy deemed appropriately popular by the group (who I barely knew) versus the guy I liked.  By the end of my fifth grade year, I’d had enough of sleepovers where I would lay silently in my bag while the others giggled and chatted about trips (Disney World, Hawaii, Colorado for skiing) that I’d yet to take and weekend events (country clubs, theater, downtown dinners) that I’d never join them in.  I’d temporarily lost myself and become an outsider within the world I’d tried so hard to blend.

So, this one is dedicated to my sixth grader who went back to being Barbara and got to go steady with the one she wanted.         

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