Today’s theme is a tough one for me–I think I’ve mentioned before I don’t listen to music as I write because…well, here’s the confession. I got kicked out of typing class in high school. Yup, I was a trifle to rambunctious, and the teacher figured I could use the time better elsewhere. So did I, I headed outside and proceeded to work on my tan, but neither of us would imagine that years down the road I’d be wishing I knew how to touch-type!
I use a modified typing method–when I started writing two years ago I called it my ‘two finger typing method’. I’ve since progressed. I use both my forefingers, all the fingers on my left hand except my pinkie, and most of my right hand, although I rarely use my right hand ring finger. Still, I type pretty fast when I get going, not accurately, but thank you Lord for word autocorrect– I can power out over 700 word in 15 minutes when I’m flying.
But I’m looking at the keyboard while I do it. This makes for amusing (not) times when I accidentally hit the caplock key, and don’t notice for a while. You’ll see me do that on twitter occasionally, have a row of all caps. I’m not shouting, I’m just too lazy to go back, erase and retype,
What does this have to do with playlists? Even though I’m NOT touch-typing, my brain and fingers have begun to be mystically connected. There are so many times that I’ll be thinking something along the lines of “…she needs to know the real truth” and when I look up at the screen, there, typed correctly, is “her needs to know the truth truth.” In otherwords, I’m channeling a not very grammatically correct ghost with a warped sense of humour. Now you know where the stories come from.
Where was I? Oh yeah, playlists…
If I DO listen to music as I write, I go back later to re-read the new section and find gems like this:
Kyle glanced around as they paced the mile to the front door. The place was a little reminiscent of his whole childhood home, not that he’d tell her that, And if I grow old well I know I’m gonna be I’m gonna be the man who’s growing old with you But I would walk 500 miles only this house had something extra to it. Yeah, it was big, as in really big, makes a guy want to shift and start marking territory big, but it wasn’t all fancy-dancy like his Aunt had decorated their Colorado home.
Did you catch it? PITA!!! While amusing, after a few times it gets really old. So I don’t listen to music while I write, unless it’s something instrumental only, like Enja, but that’s got to have the right feel to match my WIP, and right now, writing about a 24 year old chasing his older cousin’s best friend, or writing about cougar shifters–Enja just isn’t cutting it.
So I’ll leave you with -one- musical tribute. Most of my books are set in places I’ve visited–and most of my travels have been with my hubby of almost 25 years. We’ve trekked many a road together, and this song by John Denver is one of our original inspirational songs. The one following? A more modern song that expresses the same thing. No matter where on this earth we travel, I love the man.
Now hop over to some authors who I know do use playlists–
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