Writing Ritual: Music as Muse 1
Manifesting Pain and Heartbreak
Music has always been part of my writing routine, though my particular method for tapping into this muse has changed with technology over the years. As a teenager, when I wasn’t holed up in my room writing poetry, I spent hours lying on the living room rug listening to music on my dad’s stereo. With eyes closed and headphones blocking out the noisy household, I’d immerse myself in the music and imagine characters and story worlds as mini movies in full technicolor.
I wrote my first novel in college by organizing my 45s in a story sequence and playing the stack of records over and over in order as I wrote down the plot and character interactions, scene by scene, record by record. I was experiencing gut-wrenching heartbreak at the time. The kind that takes years to bury, even after settling into a routine life. For much of my 20s and 30s, it was the music of singer-songwriters who poured their soul out in personal lyrics and haunting melodies laced with pain that moved me to buy an album, or later a CD. I’d set the turntable or CD player to repeat and write while whittling away at my own blues.
Along came the MTV era and with it, the ability to watch performance videos on television changing the experience from being one of introspective story imagination, to a shared interaction with the artist. Every now and then a performance came along that was so powerful, so mesmerizing, it worked its way into my psyche and hung with me for days, weeks, months even.
And now years later, browsing music on YouTube has become part of my writing ritual. Sometimes, I’ll come across one of those songs that singed the fiber of my being and inspired my writing years ago and I’ll watch the video. Often, emotions come to the surface that I felt the first time I heard the song or saw the video, uncovering the pain I so carefully packed away.
I came across one such song recently. The Sinead O’Connor version of “Nothing Compare 2 U.” I was looking for music to help with a short story I’m writing. The story is set in 1976 so I was browsing songs from that year to help set an authentic mood. I thought I needed time period inspiration to get me unstuck from a plot pothole I’d sunk into but somehow my YouTube rabbit trail exploration led me to Sinead’s soul-crushing music video. Released in 1990 it had nothing to do with the historical context of my story.
I watched it multiple times then watched some reaction videos to it which is another thing I do now because reaction videos always add fresh insight to familiar songs since the commentators are hearing it for the first time. I decided to look for Prince’s version since I knew he’d written the song and Chris Cornell’s version that was mentioned by some of the people reacting to Sinead’s version. This led me to reflect on how personal heartbreak impacted these three singers and the timeworn debate about whether artists need to suffer emotionally.
Prince had a larger-than-life persona with a playlist is full of party music that makes you want to get up and dance. However he wrote a few songs like “Nothing Compares 2 U,” the laced with pain “When Doves Fly,” and apocalyptic “Purple Rain.” According to an article in The New York Times after his death in 1976, “He was known to eschew alcohol and marijuana, and no one who went on tour with him could indulge either.” And yet, he died of a drug overdose from prescription painkillers. It turns out behind the supersonic energy and flamboyance was a man who was full of pain.
Chris Cornell, the lead vocalist and guitar player for Soundgarden and Audioslave took his life in 2017. Not as surprising perhaps as Prince’s death, Cornell suffered from depression, alcohol, and drug addiction for years and as one of the leaders of the grunge movement, his music was dark and despondent. Think “Black Hole Sun.”
Sinead O’Conner is thankfully still alive and performing again after spending a few years in “a nuthouse,” as she called it in an interview with The Guardian earlier this year. Much has been written about her abusive childhood and struggles with depression. “Nothing Compares 2 U” is not the only haunting music she’s recorded. “Troy” and “You Made Me the Thief of Your Heart” are two prime examples.
Did pain and depression enable these artists to deliver transcendent musical storytelling? Do you need to suffer like a method actor who shoots heroin to play an addict? Let’s hope not! But if one of your characters is experiencing heartbreak, you have to be able to express their emotions in a way that your readers can feel it.
It turns out what I needed wasn’t time period context but to dig into my story’s sorrow and despair and to do that, I needed to feel it. Weep, even. After my listening session, I was able to get back into my writing and develop the emotional hook that was missing.
My advice? Listen to music that triggers emotions from pain you’ve experienced. Tap into those feelings for your character in such a way that you can express their passion in words. Then write.
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