Letting the music do the rest...

When I was a freshman in high school I lived my life for my music. The top ten hits that year were:
1. Hold On, Wilson Phillips
2. It Must Have Been Love, Roxette
3. Nothing Compares 2 U, Sinéad O'Connor
4. Poison , Bell Biv Devoe
5. Vogue, Madonna
6. Vision of Love, Mariah Carey
7. Another Day In Paradise, Phil Collins
8. Hold On, En Vogue
9. Cradle of Love, Billy Idol
10. Blaze of Glory, Jon Bon Jovi

There were three things I knew with 100% certainty. First, Jon Bon Jovi would eventually realize that I was the love of his life. Second, Roxette knew me, really knew me, like no one else (she clearly sang It Must Have Been Love for me alone). Lastly, Madonna was the best dressed human on earth. Everything else, from boys to school work was a little less clear to me. I spent so many hours alone in my room, listening to music. I didn't just listen to chart toppers, either. I liked the Pursuit of Happiness and their under-appreciated sudo-hit "Shave Your Legs", which I understand way more at 38 than I ever did at 14.


The book I'm writing right now has a music theme and I'm trying to relive those magic moments when a song didn't take me back to a memory, but compelled me forward to a hope. A time when life was a series of "what-it's," terrifying and tantalizing at the same time. A time when I had so many feelings I didn't know what to do with that it seemed like music was the only was to siphon them off and into the world.

My character is way more connected to music than me because she can actually create it. I spent years writing poetry for lyrics, but my complete lack of musical ability slowed my song writing way down. She has the ultimate way to get her energy out and in the universe. All I have to do is let her unfold on the page. I just have to keep track of that too-young, want-it-all, drowning-until-something-makes-it-all-better feeling and let the music do the rest.

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