Lani Diane Rich’s Discovery course started this week and my homework is to listen to music. Lots and lots of it, if necessary. The goal is to find songs that relate to the character who’s been tapping her Louboutined toes on the back of my mind for months now, waiting for me to finish the current book so I can start on her story.
A soundtrack isn’t a completely new concept for me: three of the four novels I’ve written have had theme songs, although I didn’t go looking for them. They showed up and basically ran on a hamster wheel in my cerebellar vermis for a year or two until the book was finished.
They are good songs; I liked them.
But enough to hear them over and over and over…? Luckily for me, yes. But it’s risky.
I do the same thing in real life. When I was hiking the Juan de Fuca Marine Trail a couple of summers ago, the only song I could remember the words to was Patsy Cline’s Crazy, which is just about where I drove my hiking buddy because I sang it constantly when we were in wild-animal territory, which was pretty much all the time.
Talk about a dilemma: should I keep singing to warn off the berrying bears? Or stop it so the cougars (or my friend) wouldn’t kill me just to shut me up?
You can see why I’m looking forward to collecting a whole playlist.
My hiking buddy is going to be all kinds of relieved, too.
Now what I’m curious about is this: does your life have a soundtrack? Do you choose it or does it lodge, uninvited, in your skull?