No, even though I’ve been blogging less lately I have not leanred how to read, let alone write music. I’m referring to what I listen to when writing. I didn’t always listen to music while writing, but when I began working mostly at the Brooklyn public library, I needed earphones and music to muffle out other sounds. Now it’s quite habitual, even amidst the silence of the writing space. I know a writer who has certain artists and playlists that go with each project- his own internal soundtrack for the project, and when he hands over the manuscript to a director or producer, he’ll make them a CD to go with it.
My current novel dveloped it’s own playlist organically. Strangely these are musicians and songs that are very lyric-laden. And although I do generally listen closely to lyrics, the words do not distract me from my writing. For the last year I have listened to three albums like a lunatic: Christian Gibbs, his band Lucinda Blackbear, and Iron and Wine with Calexico. A good writing day could constitute listening to Iron and Wine six times in a row, too caught up to do anything but hit play again. Elliott Smith also gets played a lot when I write. He provides communion for a melancholy and existential character I’m writing. As the months have stretched on, I’ve needed to add a second Iron and Wine album and The Lightening Bug Situation.
Another thing I’ve discovered is that this music has a Pavlovian effect on me. Should one of these songs come on at a party, I suddenly rather be at the writing space.
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