Posts Tagged JS Bach
Once a week I host a writer who uses music as part of their creative environment – perhaps to connect with a character, populate a mysterious place, or hold a moment still to explore its depths. This week’s post is by award-winning journalist and contemporary women’s fiction author Karen Wojcik Berner @karenberner
Soundtrack by Icicle Works, Peter Gabriel, The Indigo Girls, The Doors, The 5th Dimension, Bach, Phil Collins
I was a singer way before I was a writer. Nothing on a grand scale, although I was asked to try out for the Lyric Opera children’s chorus, which I turned down because I hated opera and didn’t recognize the value of the musical education I would have received. What did I know? I was only ten. I settled for local variety shows, high school musicals, and choirs. Wise? Probably not, but then I wouldn’t have discovered writing.
Only natural then that music helped me create the Bibliophiles series, which revolves around members of a classics book club. Not your typical series, each book stars one or two of the book club members and tells their stories. Tragedy. Coming of Age. Romance. You never know what you’re going to get.
Small and helpless
The first is A Whisper to a Scream, which I’m sure you’ll recognize as the title of an Icicle Works song from the 80s. Most people think A Whisper to a Scream is a mystery novel, but if you listen to the lyrics of the song, it’s really about feeling small and ‘ever helpless’ in the face of a greater force, which is exactly what the book is about.
Overwhelmed stay-at-home mother of two Sarah Anderson feels adrift in a sea of diapers, Legos, and school projects. Her workaholic husband is never home, and she longs for just 10 minutes to herself to reclaim the person she was pre-kids. When she finally gets out of the house and joins a classics book club, she meets Annie Jacobs, a public relations executive. Annie’s infertility treatments send her spiraling out of control. What starts as a mere notion, a small whisper of the promise of motherhood, consumes her, whipping her into a frenzy.
The song’s happy dance beat underscores the need to surrender to circumstance, something both Sarah and Annie eventually do at the end.
Tell me Y
Having never written from a male perspective, I was worried Annie’s husband John could easily become a stereotype. After all, who do you think of when a couple is dealing with fertility issues? Not the guy.
When John sensed his marriage was coming undone, I’d listen to Peter Gabriel’s tender, yet melancholy Blood of Eden, which perfectly captured what John felt as his wife spun out of control in a vortex of hormones, emotion, and deep craving that he cannot understand. He missed the intimacy of their life before sex became mechanical.
Was this guy married to Annie too? He tipped his glass to Peter Gabriel, comrade in misery.’
A Whisper to a Scream
Several years ago, I bought the Indigo Girls album Rite of Passage. One track is Galileo, which talks about reincarnation and how many times must we go around until we finally get this life thing right. But instead of reincarnation, I envisioned a young woman who kept reinventing herself from location to location. That became Until My Soul Gets It Right, about another classics book club member, Catherine Elbert.
She was a fraud. Had been for years.’
Until My Soul Gets It Right
I’d wanted the final book in the series to be a love story. Opposites attracting is always fun, so why not bring together fastidious Anglophile computer programmer Thaddeus Mumblegarden IV and the free-spirited daughter of Hippies Spring Pearson in A Groovy Kind of Love?
The chance to delve into the 60s and the Pearsons’ background was too much fun to resist. Only a small child when the Hippies embarked on their psychedelic journey, I was drawn to their sense of freedom, something I had never felt growing up as an only child.
Every day while writing Spring’s childhood, the velvety smooth vocals of Jim Morrison in The Doors’ classic Light My Fire showed me a window to their world and explored quintessential sixties sounds. I mean, does anyone use an organ like that anymore? Aquarius belted out by the 5th Dimension and originally from the musical Hair signified pure freedom. Anything was possible if you opened your mind and let the sunshine in. That bass line underscores the funkiness of the dance. You can’t help but move.
That’s how I felt about the Pearsons. Sure, they might be potheads who left their eleven-year-old daughter in charge of their juice bar, but you can’t help but like them.
In contrast, Thaddeus’s family is traditional, and he, himself, is more formal. The Brandenburg Concertos played on repeat while writing his chapters. They helped me focus on structure and complexity. While driving, Thaddeus puts on the local classical music radio station hoping for Handel or a medieval madrigal.
Instead one of John Cage’s twentieth-century avant garde sonatas accosted him, which he immediately turned off with disgust. Better no music than that trash!’
A Groovy Kind of Love
Music helps my imagination find its sense of time and place. It’s almost hypnotic. As soon as one of my inspiration songs plays, I’m back in the 60s with the Pearsons, bouncing from coast to coast with Catherine, or drinking scotch with John. I really cannot write without it.
Karen Wojcik Berner writes contemporary women’s fiction, including the Bibliophiles series. An award-winning journalist, her work has appeared in several magazines, newspapers, and blogs, including the Chicago Tribune, Writer Unboxed, Women’s Fiction Writers, and Fresh Fiction. She is a member of the Chicago Writers’ Association. When not writing, she can be found on the sidelines of her youngest’s football or lacrosse games, discussing the Celts with the oldest, or snuggling into a favorite reading chair with a good book and some tea. Find her on Goodreads, Facebook, her blog, Google +, and Twitter @karenberner
The Undercover Soundtrack is a weekly series by writers who use music as part of their creative process – special pieces that have revealed a character to them, or populated a mysterious place, or enlarged a pivotal moment. This week’s post is by mystery novelist Margot Kinberg
Music has always been a very important part of my life, and that’s just as true of my writing life as it is of the rest of my life. All sorts of songs – and the ideas I get from them – have been woven through what I write because quite honestly, I think in music. So when I write, music has a way of inspiring me. My second crime novel B-Very Flat is in a way divided into four musical ‘sections’, although I didn’t do that deliberately, nor are there rigid divisions among the sections.
The close connection between artist and instrument
Several of the characters in the novel are young musicians at university who are hoping for music careers. One of them, Serena Brinkman, is the main character for the first part of the novel – until she’s murdered. Triumph’s Magic Power really helped to put me in the state of mind where I could feel that love Serena has for music, and so understand her character better. Musical artists are absolutely passionate about what they do, and I wanted that to come through. Even the characters who aren’t musicians are young and passionate about life, and that song helped me tap into that energy.
Serena is a brilliant violinist, and music means a lot to her. In fact, she and a rival are preparing for an important musical competition as the story goes on. JS Bach’s Sonata No. 3 in C Major helped me get a sense of what playing a violin is like. It’s such a warm, tender piece, and yet with some real richness to it. To me, it captures at least a bit of the connection between the artist and the instrument. There are a few scenes in the novel where Serena is practising and one in particular where she plays a piece for her adviser. The Bach sonata helped me to tap that feeling of getting utterly lost in a brilliantly-played violin piece.
A sense of emptiness and devastation
About halfway through the novel, Serena is murdered. Her death leaves a gaping hole in several lives; even people who didn’t know her personally are affected by her murder. That includes my sleuth, who never does meet her. That sense of pain and loss is a big part of Billy Joel’s Nocturne, so that song helped me to focus on the emptiness and devastation left behind when someone dies. In a few scenes in the novel, people who loved Serena are coping with the realisation that she’s gone. Because Nocturne is empty and lonely, but restrained, it was very helpful to me as I wrote those scenes. Depicting sadness and loss without melodrama isn’t easy.
Towards the end of B-Very Flat, we find out who killed Serena Brinkman and why. In that sense, the story is resolved. But the people who knew her are not all of a sudden ‘whole’ again. They have to find a way to go on, especially her parents. They have to figure out what happens next for them. One song that helped me explore that sense of having to pick up the pieces after heartbreak is Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Another Suitcase in Another Hall. Admittedly the song doesn’t have to do with going on after a loved one has died. But it does deal with that need to be strong despite the pain. That song helped me to explore how the people in Serena’s life might begin to pick up their pieces.
Margot Kinberg is a mystery novelist and Associate Professor at National University, Carlsbad, California. She was born in Pennsylvania, where she graduated from Indiana University of Pennsylvania. She taught at the University of Delaware and Knox College, then moved to California where she lives with her husband, daughter and dogs. She is the author of the Joel Williams mystery series which includes Publish or Perish and B-Very Flat.