Hi hotshot,
Music is one very important factor to writing, for me. If I read a book and am listening to a song at the same time, that song will forever effect how I see that book. Like Fireflies by Owl City now is attached to Witch and Wizard by Robert Patterson, and Shot Heard Around the World by Boys Like Girls is firmly soldered to Skulduggery Pleasant: Danger Days by Derek Landy.
Other inspirations include this piece of lovely, lovely music for the Hunger Games series.
And of course, songs can almost define characters and stories I work on. I find my writing to be very...script-like a lot of the time. I write scenes well, that's my strength. Plot is my Achilles heel, though, so I like letting characters run my story for me. So finding a song for a scene, to make it more...dense? Perfect moment.
I think, when I publish my first book, I'll have an index at the front for the song that goes with each scene, if I can. That would be nice. :)
Disclaimer: The music isn't mine.
Showing posts with label inspiration. Show all posts
Showing posts with label inspiration. Show all posts
Friday, 10 August 2012
Thursday, 15 March 2012
The whirlpool
Hi, hothots
Don't you just hate when this happens?:
All the images of what the story could be like flash over your head, all the possible characters and scenes, the possibilities, the potentia-
And then you get a pen and paper, and everything comes out in a muddled mess that looks like a dictionary just had a seizure on an A4 notepad.
This is the point when I usually try to discern what on earth I've just written down. Of course it makes sense in separate components, but together? What? Just..no.
It makes no sense, and the whirlpool has left me with a string of mismatched concepts, taking away the thread that held it all together. A load of ink and paper with so many half-ideas and no actual solid material to work with.
I think my muse has diarrhea.
Don't you just hate when this happens?:
All the images of what the story could be like flash over your head, all the possible characters and scenes, the possibilities, the potentia-
And then you get a pen and paper, and everything comes out in a muddled mess that looks like a dictionary just had a seizure on an A4 notepad.
This is the point when I usually try to discern what on earth I've just written down. Of course it makes sense in separate components, but together? What? Just..no.
It makes no sense, and the whirlpool has left me with a string of mismatched concepts, taking away the thread that held it all together. A load of ink and paper with so many half-ideas and no actual solid material to work with.
I think my muse has diarrhea.
Labels:
aghhhh,
diarrhea,
dictionary,
discern,
frustrated,
ideas,
inspiration,
muse,
seizure,
sense,
string,
thread,
whirlpool
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