A Musical, Writerly Journey
It's Big Bang season! So many fandoms are having them, and so many of my flisties are going for it, which is very awesome. I decide to dust this off as a belated Valentine's Day gift for you guys. ♥
In 2006, I graduated from college with a degree in Professional Writing. In the same year, I made this "mix CD" for some of the writer friends I had met in that college, who I loved dearly (and still do). It's amazing to think that even that recently, downloading large files over the internet was mostly impractical, at least as far as I knew. Did broadband even exist then? But yeah. I burned these to CDs, and made my own artwork, and printed out "liner sheets" with the lyrics.
Track List:
My Baby Loves a Bunch of Authors by Moxy Fruvous
The Engine Driver by The Decemberists
I'll Be a Writer by Soltero
Paperback Writer by The Beatles
Seize the Day by Carolyn Arends
Open Book by CAKE
Novel-Writing (Live from Wessex) by Monty Python
Song for Myla Goldberg by The Decemberists
Shadow Stabbing by CAKE
Breathe (2 AM) by Anna Nalick
There She Goes, My Beautiful World by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds
See the Flames Begin to Crawl by Five Iron Frenzy
That's How the Story Ends by Five Iron Frenzy
Escape (The Pina Colada Song) by Rupert Holmes
Included in the liner sheets was this little story. I've added a few parenthetical phrases and a PS to make it more applicable for my current readership.
A Musical, Writerly Journey
This album is a gift to some of my very favorite writers ever. However, note that the songs on this album are very eclectic. Therefore, you may not like one or two or ten. That's okay. While you're deciding whether you like them, enjoy the story they tell about the writer's journey.
First of all, I figure that pretty much every writer starts out by liking books. Having a spouse who shares that inclination would just compound the problem, of course. "My Baby Loves a Bunch of Authors," you may have noted to yourself. But that was okay, because you did too.
So there you were just living your life, as a cafe worker or librarian or student or perhaps even an Engine Driver, when you had an epiphany. "I'll Be a Writer," you declared one day. "It can't be that hard."
But deciding to be a writer was not enough. Then you had to decide what kind of writer you would be, a poet or a columnist or a critic or one of those people who write illogical letters to the editor (or comments on the internet). "I want to be a Paperback Writer," you declared further.
That was it, then. It was time to Seize the Day. Your life would be an Open Book, prepared for the perusal of strangers. You were ready to share all of your insights and wisdom, humor and love. It would be eloquent, moving, and entertaining, an instant best-seller.
And you began to write. It might have been more exciting with a commentator on some sports-like show, perhaps called Novel-Writing (Live from Wessex) or something like that. But no matter. You pressed on. Already you were thinking about an interesting, attention-grabbing title for you book. Song for Myla Goldberg, maybe. Or perhaps something a bit more ambiguous and poetic, like Shadow Stabbing. You had lists of ideas, but hadn't hit on the perfect title yet. It would come, you were sure. Well, pretty sure.
And now you were down in the real nitty-gritty of your novel. It was beginning to come a bit harder. You realized that you were sharing some rather personal things, and didn't know if you could write anymore. Either that or you realized that you were writing utter crud, and weren't sure what do about it. You kept trying, though, until one day you found yourself awake at 2 AM in the morning, clutching a pencil in one fist (or pounding on your keyboard with that fist), the other pressed to your burning temple as you blinked your gritty bloodshot eyes and struggled to Breathe.
It was that most dreaded of maladies: writer's block. It hit you hard. You could not get around it. "There She Goes, My Beautiful World!" you cried in despair. (Writer's block stinks a lot. It also inspires melodramatic cries of anguish.)
For days upon days, you fought your writer's block. You wrote pages of drivel, crumpled them, then smoothed them out to see if you had been wrong, then decided that they were definitely drivel and crumpled them again. At last you had piles of them, enough for a bonfire. So you set one, just to See the Flames Begin to Crawl. It was very satisfying, in a morbid way. So you decided that That's How the Story Ends. Rather easy decision, it was, in the end.
And now you just really, really needed to Escape. So you wrote your last creative effort, a personal ad sent to the newspaper, and you found someone who liked pina coladas as much as you did. Good for you! That's really the best final destination for your journey that you could have reached.
After all, this writing stuff, with its sweat and blood and many, many tears, is for chumps of the first degree.
The End
PS: Or you could always come to the dark side and write fanfic. IT'S SO MUCH FUN YOU HAVE NO IDEA.
Download from mediafire 100 MB, 54 minutes
Single tracks uploaded on request.
In 2006, I graduated from college with a degree in Professional Writing. In the same year, I made this "mix CD" for some of the writer friends I had met in that college, who I loved dearly (and still do). It's amazing to think that even that recently, downloading large files over the internet was mostly impractical, at least as far as I knew. Did broadband even exist then? But yeah. I burned these to CDs, and made my own artwork, and printed out "liner sheets" with the lyrics.
Track List:
My Baby Loves a Bunch of Authors by Moxy Fruvous
The Engine Driver by The Decemberists
I'll Be a Writer by Soltero
Paperback Writer by The Beatles
Seize the Day by Carolyn Arends
Open Book by CAKE
Novel-Writing (Live from Wessex) by Monty Python
Song for Myla Goldberg by The Decemberists
Shadow Stabbing by CAKE
Breathe (2 AM) by Anna Nalick
There She Goes, My Beautiful World by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds
See the Flames Begin to Crawl by Five Iron Frenzy
That's How the Story Ends by Five Iron Frenzy
Escape (The Pina Colada Song) by Rupert Holmes
Included in the liner sheets was this little story. I've added a few parenthetical phrases and a PS to make it more applicable for my current readership.
A Musical, Writerly Journey
This album is a gift to some of my very favorite writers ever. However, note that the songs on this album are very eclectic. Therefore, you may not like one or two or ten. That's okay. While you're deciding whether you like them, enjoy the story they tell about the writer's journey.
First of all, I figure that pretty much every writer starts out by liking books. Having a spouse who shares that inclination would just compound the problem, of course. "My Baby Loves a Bunch of Authors," you may have noted to yourself. But that was okay, because you did too.
So there you were just living your life, as a cafe worker or librarian or student or perhaps even an Engine Driver, when you had an epiphany. "I'll Be a Writer," you declared one day. "It can't be that hard."
But deciding to be a writer was not enough. Then you had to decide what kind of writer you would be, a poet or a columnist or a critic or one of those people who write illogical letters to the editor (or comments on the internet). "I want to be a Paperback Writer," you declared further.
That was it, then. It was time to Seize the Day. Your life would be an Open Book, prepared for the perusal of strangers. You were ready to share all of your insights and wisdom, humor and love. It would be eloquent, moving, and entertaining, an instant best-seller.
And you began to write. It might have been more exciting with a commentator on some sports-like show, perhaps called Novel-Writing (Live from Wessex) or something like that. But no matter. You pressed on. Already you were thinking about an interesting, attention-grabbing title for you book. Song for Myla Goldberg, maybe. Or perhaps something a bit more ambiguous and poetic, like Shadow Stabbing. You had lists of ideas, but hadn't hit on the perfect title yet. It would come, you were sure. Well, pretty sure.
And now you were down in the real nitty-gritty of your novel. It was beginning to come a bit harder. You realized that you were sharing some rather personal things, and didn't know if you could write anymore. Either that or you realized that you were writing utter crud, and weren't sure what do about it. You kept trying, though, until one day you found yourself awake at 2 AM in the morning, clutching a pencil in one fist (or pounding on your keyboard with that fist), the other pressed to your burning temple as you blinked your gritty bloodshot eyes and struggled to Breathe.
It was that most dreaded of maladies: writer's block. It hit you hard. You could not get around it. "There She Goes, My Beautiful World!" you cried in despair. (Writer's block stinks a lot. It also inspires melodramatic cries of anguish.)
For days upon days, you fought your writer's block. You wrote pages of drivel, crumpled them, then smoothed them out to see if you had been wrong, then decided that they were definitely drivel and crumpled them again. At last you had piles of them, enough for a bonfire. So you set one, just to See the Flames Begin to Crawl. It was very satisfying, in a morbid way. So you decided that That's How the Story Ends. Rather easy decision, it was, in the end.
And now you just really, really needed to Escape. So you wrote your last creative effort, a personal ad sent to the newspaper, and you found someone who liked pina coladas as much as you did. Good for you! That's really the best final destination for your journey that you could have reached.
After all, this writing stuff, with its sweat and blood and many, many tears, is for chumps of the first degree.
The End
PS: Or you could always come to the dark side and write fanfic. IT'S SO MUCH FUN YOU HAVE NO IDEA.
Download from mediafire 100 MB, 54 minutes
Single tracks uploaded on request.