The Symphonies in my head
I don’t write to music, or better yet, I can’t write to music. Truthfully I don’t listen to music a lot. Many people have this weird reaction to that when I tell them, but if you live where I do you would understand. I live in a third world country where there is little space between houses in my little street. My neighbors’ play music from around 7.30am all day long to around 8pm. The music is sometimes played so loud that you can’t have a telephone conversation or enjoy a movie on television unless it is close captioned. So, I believe I hear enough music to avoid listening to it.
As to listening to music when I write, it is not possible for me, because I would concentrate more on the lyrics of the song than on the words I am supposed to be typing on the screen. I have tried listening to instrumental, but I find that I get lost in that too. Besides, the voices in my head that tells me what to write, what they want to do, experience or create, cannot be heard when the music is on. This is why I don’t write at home.
I usually do a lot of my writing at work, or in the evenings at home. I am easily distracted from my train of thought and thus I require some solitude and silence.
However, sometimes when I am writing certain scenes I can imagine the background music playing, like in a movie. For example during the sad moments, or when someone is about to be killed, or the romantic moments, I can hear the music playing in the background as I write. I imagine my characters are in a movie and I am watching the action being revealed as the music trumpets on, leading me through every scene. Since I am not familiar with music it is not possible for me to tell you exactly what I hear. I can just tell you that even though I write in silence, there is often some symphony playing in my head through certain dramatic scenes.
Do you listen to music when you write? Here is a scene for you from one of my WIP, read it and suggest a tune you think would go well with the piece…
Sherry turned from the kitchen sink and came face to face with him. He stood there only fifteen years old with hatred on his face. Before she could react; before she could plead with him; before the mother in her could reach out to him; his hand rose in the air and came down again plunging a knife into her chest. He looked her in the eye; his eyes red with anger and hatred, hers filled with water, pleading. She felt the life slipping from her body, the crunching of his chest cavity was heard over her muffled breath. The knife broke and he instinctively reached for another and brought it down into her chest too. Her life slipped away and she fell to the floor. He turned and ran from her kitchen, never noticing the four year old child standing with the teddy bear clutched to her chest.
It is a small excerpt, but it is one of those scenes where I can hear the music playing in my head and can never put my finger on what song it is. So what song would you put to that scene?
Leave a comment and include what sort of music you listen to when you write? Or what is your favourite music to read to?
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Anjie Harrte: Romance with some Caribbean flavour
Anjie Harrte is a twenty nine year old mother of one who resides in sunny Guyana, South America. Sometime between running a small business, having a full time job and being a mother and partner she finds time to pursue her passion for creating stories. Anjie dreams up stories of contemporary fiction splashed with some romance, a little dose of murder or an ounce of suspense and sometimes when no one is looking she dashes in a little twist. When she isn’t doing any of that, she is decorating a cake, knitting a chair back or sewing her latest design. Anjie even finds time to lurk around and stalk people and pages on facebook and you too can stalk her if you like at https://www.facebook.com/pages/Anjie-Harrte/ or you can follow her on twitter @anjieharrte or keep updated with her writing at http://authoranjieharrte.blogspot.com/