Soundtracks for Writing and Life
Plus a sneak peek of September's short story!
Credit: Arthur
As I gear up to get my Hound reviews in the best shape possible, I thought this Wednesday’s post I’d keep short and sweet. Soundtracks, mixtapes, playlists—whatever you want to call them these days—are a tool in most writers’ toolkits. I’d be telling a boldfaced lie if I claimed I didn’t have multiple playlists for writing stories or TTRPG campaigns (usually I call them my “jams”). In most cases, it helps me focus and get in the right mood for whatever story or world I’m working on; the “auditory aesthetics” (apologies for the pretentiousness) from particular songs or artists informs the types of scenes and situations that I attempt to put into words.
Recently, however, as I was working on this month’s story (keep reading for the sneak peek!) and another yarn for an upcoming submission window, I didn’t feel the urge to listen to music while I wrote. I waffled between listening to some Celtic folk music, atmospheric black metal (or a mashup of the two), and the dungeon synth1 artist Cromleck while writing, but didn’t feel the urge to have any playlist on for very long. I preferred to write in silence with the few hours or minutes I had during or after my day job—since it involves limited screen time, I felt a bit “cleansed” and motivated to economize my time, even without my usual, comfortable setup complete with music.
In the past couple weeks, the only times I’ve really been listening to music is while I’m driving and at the gym, for which I have two different playlists. I currently live in the heart of New England, away from bustling cities, nested in lush woodlands and mountain basins. The music of Saor, a Caledonian atmospheric black metal band, I’ve found is the perfect soundtrack to have while driving on the winding, dirt roads with the cloud-ringed mountaintops rising above dense, verdant treelines. I also used Saor as inspiration for writing my senior capstone, which consisted of an epic poem featuring my characters Eachann MacLeod and Connor Ua Sreng; I felt it helped transport me to a misty, unspoiled Scotland in the middle of the Highlands where only mist and ghosts could tell the story of what happened in that bleak land. In the gym, the only playlist I’ve listened to for the past two (going on three) months has been a compilation of songs from the Berserk anime soundtracks, a handful of Beast in Black songs, and a few others comparable to the story of Berserk. What I have there is a mix of electronic-style music by Susumu Hirasawa, heavy metal songs, and a few operatic/orchestral songs. While it does sound eclectic, anyone who’s listened to those songs could attest to how powerful it can make the listener feel while doing intense lifting in the gym. Surprisingly, I have not grown tired of a single track on that playlist—the same I could probably say about my Saor collection. I’m not exactly certain what the difference is between writing in silence and having these “soundtracks” on in these different aspects of my life outside of writing, but I have a few guesses.
One aspect of it may be that it’s just easier for me to think when my head isn’t being filled with noise or the chemical releases the music triggers. One of my previous creative writing teachers, Jonathan Falla, recommended just writing in silence while optionally using noise-cancelling headphones to “Let the sentences bounce around in [your] head.” Being disconnected from other apps or devices that can be a distraction while writing is also a benefit of writing in silence; I’m less likely to start scrolling aimlessly if an ad pops up in the middle of writing a scene, causing me to notice a message from a friend and lead me down a rabbit hole of procrastination. I suppose it worked well enough for monks whose only exposure to music would likely be whatever was performed within monasteries or maybe the occasional folk performance if they were allowed to visit local villages and towns.
It also leads me to something I’d like to make a more focused post on, which is imagining the (pretentiousness incoming) “auditory aesthetics” of my stories. Music for specific media or from other artists with their own vision for what their sound represents can possibly get in the way of conceptualizing an original “feel” or “noise” for some world or story that you’re trying to create. Some things might come close, for me it’s particularly been music from artists on this playlist and Saor for imagining the soundtrack to Eachann and Connor’s adventures. But it doesn’t hit the mark exactly, which is why I usually save the aforementioned playlist for editing rather than for actual writing. The songs are more of a basis for inspiration or motivation, if anything, much like how Appendix N can be mined for ideas in tabletop campaigns.
To return to the Berserk soundtrack, Susumu Hirasawa once said on the song “Aria” that it was, “[not] in any specific language because ‘he didn’t want to disrupt the listener’s image of Berserk but rather [sing in] the language of the Berserk [sic].’”2 This leads to another reason why I’ve been choosing silence over other people’s music, as letting the sentences bounce around in my head may be helping me think more about what the “language” of my stories is. My favorite songs for editing are in a similar dialect, but they aren’t speaking the language I’m trying to look for. As for my lifting and driving playlist, those are for periods of my life where I don’t have to create, but they speak a language that conveys instructions on how to struggle and grow stronger, and how to appreciate the beauty and music of the natural world around me.
I’m interested to know what your “Appendix N” for writing and editing is, or what current playlists you have for driving, working out, or other doing other tasks. Feel free to share them in the comments below and links to your playlists if they’re available on Spotify or YouTube. Do you like listening to music while writing or working in silence? What are a few songs or artists that speak the same “dialect” as your stories?
Now for our sneak prevue…
Also, read the sneak peek below of this month’s story “The Phantom Hill”, releasing on Friday September 29th! Irish-American adventurer Art Cavanagh seeks out a fairy hill near Lough Eske, said to appear only at twilight. Will he find ancient treasures and secrets within or will he incur the ire of the Little People? This story is perfect for fans of folklore, classic adventure pulps, and Ireland.
After about one hundred paces, the passageway opened to a circular chamber with a low ceiling. Art swept the torch beam across the room. It fell upon columns of rocks piled carefully up to the ceiling and dusty skeletal remains sitting beneath them. In the rear of the chamber sat the tarnished remnants of a vehicle much like a chariot crafted out of gold. A pair of horse skeletons lay before it, and a skeleton sat inside it. The bones leaned against a spear propped straight up; the leaf-bladed bronze tip was wedged within a crack in the ceiling.
“Finn’s spear,” Art murmured, approaching the remains, his head bowed as though paying his respects to the departed at a wake. “Slán, old chief,” he said, stopping beside the cart. He reached out to grasp the spear, but halted as a feeling of danger prickling the back of his skull. Art cast the torch beam upward; cracks spiderwebbed around the spearhead in the ceiling. The crooked lines led to each of the pillars in the tomb. If this moves, the whole place comes down, Art determined, and left the ancient weapon alone, chagrined.
“At least I might leave with a few keepsakes.” Art smiled as he shone his torch into the cart. A few stone and flint arrowheads were piled beside the skeleton’s feet. He scooped up a handful and examined them, before setting them in his pocket. Little good luck charms, he mused, recalling some farmers who had similar “elfin” arrowheads they claimed to have found near supposed fairy mounds.
Suddenly, something cracked against the back of Art’s head. White and red flashed in his eyes as he tumbled to the ground and a black, unwelcomed sleep fell over him.
Thanks for sticking around and reading this sneak prevue of “The Phantom Hill”! This story will be available to all Senchas Claideb subscribers on Friday September 29th! If you know a friend who enjoys Celtic folklore and classic pulp adventure stories, click the button below to refer them to Senchas Claideb and get access to special rewards, including personalized Gaelic phrases and an original short story!
I have never been able to write or do any kind of focused activity with music playing. I tend to get too drawn into the music and I am not able to concentrate on the task at hand. Even when doing mundane tasks at work, I opt for silence. I may try to introduce music into my work day and see what effect it has, as my general level of concentration has degraded. Maybe introducing music will stimulate me just enough to increase focus.
What you said (rather pretentiously, I might add 😉) about the audio aesthetics was intriguing and does make sense.
For working out during the past few years, I would always go with the standard 80’s rock playlist. Over the last 6 months or so, I’ve switched to listening to audio books or a podcast. They don’t give you that extra boost of energy, but it does seem to allow me to focus on the exercise and ensure I have good form, etc. I had not realized that until reading your post.
Can’t wait for the rest of the story!
Looking forward to Phantom Hill. Music is, and has always been an integral part of my daily life. My tastes are eclectic, ranging from classical to contemporary to country to 50s rock and roll.